Quick, quick, quick³⁶

There were runners poorer than me. I felt sorry for them. And the people who were going ahead of me, I was admiring like anything. No jealousy, absolutely none! I was adoring them. It was an impossible task they were performing.

Sometimes old people — at least ten or fifteen years older than me — were going ahead of me. There was no competitive spirit on my part; only my admiration was coming forward. “These people are older than me and look how they are doing.” They had such short strides — about half the length of my strides — but quick, quick, quick.