One day, my friend and I quit drinking/smoking to run a marathon in a year. They started to work hard, run, watch food. Results are wasted. After half a year, we ran 30 km through the crossed terrain without any problems. Down there, up there. Well, once our comrade, a drunk alkas, who drank vodka for breakfast, decided to run with us the standard route of 6 km. We laughed, but we took him with us. Corche, this guy ran 6km in 24 minutes, against my best score at 28. Sport is shit.