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Out of breath and legs burning, he kept running. The sweat poured from his brow and into his eyes, searing them as he futilely shook his head from the pain. Passing the checkpoint up ahead, he told himself just one more lap. His chest heaved wildly in l**t for oxygen and he kept running. He pumped his arms and legs mechanically, as if he no longer had real control over them at this point, but that they were on a biological auto-pilot. Seeing the checkpoint in the distance he pushed just a little bit harder. As he neared it he told himself just one more lap and kept running.
Muscles sore from day after day of being brutalized and punished, Zeflan enjoyed most a cool shower after a long, tough workout. As his body returned to its natural temperature, Zeflan stood underneath the cleansin
