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Many years ago I entered a cyclocross race when I wasn’t really fit enough. First lap I can hear some knucklehead has forgotten to lube his chain. Eek eek eek eek. Next lap in a thinned out pack I hear it again. Eek eek eeek. Third lap I’m alone and yeh, it’s me. But it’s a squeak from my lungs. I shit you not, my lungs.
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