Real athletes are not hedonists. They have no interest in pleasure, and though it seems impossible, they derive pleasure from pain, and are invigorated by their own suffering. It is said suffering is the precursor to change. That the rending of the flesh is a reminder of our fragility, our transience, our impermanence.

The rationalist argues that the athlete endures what she endures because there is the promise of reward in exchange for her suffering. Rationalists are always forward-thinking; in this way, nothing comes as a surprise for them. But the rationalist confuses the symptom with the cure. For the mere aesthete, whom you have mistaken for an athlete, tries to shape a statue out of sand, and the sand shifts between her fingers no matter how ambitious she endeavors to be. For the reward is superficial and momentary, and the pursuit of it will only rekindle her desire in the same way that running headlong on a treadmill is not fortuitous.

Life is the treading on the track and the lifting of the weight and the loathing and the fear and the hideous strength.

Life is suffering.