The grass is just beginning to dry as the cool air of the autumn morning chills the people jogging along on the field. The place is relatively quiet, with only the sound of foot strikes on the grass and gravel to disturb the morning. Everywhere you look, there is a sense of motion. No one wants to sit still. Instead, people move around in small groups, attempting to stay warm and keep the muscles loose as the time ticks down until the race. The people moving around the course look more like a bunch of layers than anything else; a far cry from what they will look like in an hour. Jogging pants, mittens, and toques are seen on most runners. The only indicator of team unity is a common jacket.
Every day, you change as a person. You do something just a little different than the day before. It’s not large. In mathematics, it’s called an infinitesimal change. Day to day, this change is so small that it is difficult to discern.
It’s not what most people want. It’s indeed there, but the truth of the secret would frustrate people. There is no quick fix. The secret isn’t a shortcut to a faster time, a better race. There is no such thing. If you want to be the best, you have to be capable of willing yourself to move faster than anyone else in the race.