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Swotting for my exams, feeling sorry for myself Mum insists I take our hyperactive pup for a walk along the beach. I resist but mum is on a mission.  Off we go, me lead footed when I let her off her lead. On she goes she wont stop!  My tearaway dog she bounds into the distance chasing another dog. She runs across the infinite beach of charcoal sand glistening in the late autumn light.  As I chase the mad mutt my legs begin to throb as if millions of shards of glass are being exploding into them the pain, the pressure, transports me on throbbing limbs to my first Weet-Bix Triathlon.

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The hot afternoon sun beamed down on my down on my flushed face making me look like a swollen black doris plum. I ran along the endless concrete path, eyes squinting against the glare. The path has no foreseeable end as it snakes up the dreaded hill. On my right the calm glassy sea gently laps at the edge of the rocks. It looks so cool, it seems to make me even hotter. My mouth filled with the nauseating flavour of salty sweat as it runs off my face into my gaping mouth.  The paths edge is lined with ...

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