The Morning Sprint

Morning breaks, and champions do not linger on the sidelines. I set my sights across the expanse toward the front doorway. Between me and the threshold lay a formidable obstacle course: an untamed tangle of thick shoelaces trailing off a massive leather work boot. I didn't hesitate. I dropped into an explosive sprint, seized the thick braided cord with both fists, and hoisted it taut over my shoulder like a championship cable run. One stride, two strides—I vaulted clear across the leather tongue, landing firmly on the rubber tread. The perimeter is breached. The day has officially begun.