What's it time to do? It's time to remember. Time to dig through the drawers and look for that swimsuit/tri-suit from last summer. That suit that still has the mud stains on it from when you did that one race and the water was so mucky that it left a neat long forever-there dirt-from-the-earth stain right down the middle that will never wash out. Remember that race? 

Remember how the bike was a little hillier than you thought, and you were reminded that you have that back injury from when you were 21 and doing trail maintenance work at that state park when you thought that you could move that really huge rock, but you really couldn't? What you could do was cause a disc herniation that would haunt you on hilly races, but then remember how you toughed it out and you rode your bike like the wind, herniation or no, and that wind was so amazing and it cooled you with the amazingness of convective cooling and you were super thankful for Newton who discovered/described this law: "The rate of heat loss of a body is proportional to the difference in temperatures between the body and its surroundings while under the effects of a breeze." Thank you, sweet Isaac, thank you for your happy discoveries.

Then remember how the run was so hot that you thought you were going to pass out and you grabbed that icy sponge out of the bucket and it felt SO AWESOME you guys, to squeeze it over your head? But then, there it went, trickling down your back, into your drawers, and down into your shoes, where your feet were now suffering from jungle rot for the rest of the race. Remember how it made your feet go 'squirk, squirk' and every time you ran in the proximity of someone else, they looked at you like, what is that sound? THAT SOUND IS SO ANNOYING. But you were like, whatever, man, I'm on my way to the finish line.

Remember also how there was that one skinny line of shade on the left side of the running path, and you ran in it like a bee looking for its hive, dodging people, running the tangents of the course so that you didn't have to take ONE SINGLE MORE STEP than you had to. Your main survival goal was to STAY IN THAT SHADE, dangit, STAY IN THAT SHADE, because the second you stepped out of it, it was like being beamed up directly to the surface of the sun where you stared the sun-god directly in the face and stuck your head into the sun-oven where he was baking his sun-cookies with sprinkles on top.

But then, like all things do, it came to an end when you ran across the finish line and remember how you could barely lift your knee so that they could remove your timing chip. And you were like, NEVER AGAIN, NEVER AGAIN. But then remember when that music was bumping bumping oonce-ing oonce-ing and they gave you your medal and everyone was like, GREAT RACE GREAT RACE, and you were like IT WAS! IT WAS A GREAT RACE! I WONDER IF I CAN STILL GET INTO THAT RACE NEXT WEEKEND.