End of the Means

We stepped to the edge of a view. We were panting and sore, and our heads bobbed up and down, rotated left and right. Sweat clogging our pores, snot lining the insides of our throats, arms raised to foreheads, forcing sweat farther into our pores. Shirts wet, hair dripping, we stared at victory.

We were disappointed. I was disappointed. All it was was a good workout.