Every time he runs he feels what he does is a representation of his heart, mind, and soul. He doesn't give anything less than his full effort. He feels that his body can do anything. He tries to make it do everything.

His training is tougher than yours. The only limit to his training is injury. He builds to the highest volume and intensity he can until he is on the brink of an injury or illness. He hates days off. He gets bored with easy workouts. He loves the real workouts. He doesn't feel that they are preparation for a race, but they are an event themselves.

He'll do a 12x400 workout and get negative splits the entire way, because he knows that as the workout gets longer, the body should be slowing down. He always gets faster as he gets further into the run. Once he knows he's come so far, he knows that all he has left to do is go faster. His last interval will always be his fastest. He'll always go faster as those around him get slower.

He looks forward to the pain. If he's hurting, he's having fun, because if he's hurting, he's running fast enough. He enjoys the toughest part of the race the most. His favorite lap in the outdoor mile is the third, when the ease of the first two is gone and the adreniline of the fourth is not yet available. In the Boston Marathon, he'd laugh at heartbreak hill. He accepts the challenges in his workouts and races and seems to insult them with his effort.

He goes into a race with more confidence than anyone. He feels he's capable of anything. This drives his training. Nothing is out of reach to him. Tell him he can't do something, he might die proving you wrong.

He's relaxed on race day. Extremely focused, very prepared, but still, relaxed. He doesn't worry about the race. There’s nothing for him to worry about. He lives to race. Euphoria exists at the starting line.

He's gutsy in every way possible. If he feels he can win the race, he'll go out with the lead pack and hang on until one of two things happens; either he breaks, or he breaks the pack.

He's a smarter runner than you. He knows his pace. He knows his your pace. He'll be sure to keep everyone honest. He doesn't bite the rabbit. He laughs at those who try to catch it. He’ll passes the frontrunners halfway through the race.

He's never too far behind. He does not give up. Don't ever count him out, and don't ever be surprised if he steals the race from you in the end. If you're racing a 5k against him, you better be ready to run the best 5000 meters of your life, because if you falter at 4999, he'll take it from you there. He's always ready to strike.

He can taste your weakness. He doesn’t have any. He'll be smart enough to run the race in a way that empowers him and weakens you. One move won't be enough against him. He'll always answer it. Don't expect to slide past him and stay there, he'll fly by you later in the race.

He always has more surges than you. He'll always have a devastating move ready to put on you. You'll never know when it's coming, but you'll know when it does. You'll be thunderstruck. You'll wonder why you can't keep up with him. He'll build his lead. When he passes you, you’re done.

He might not remember much of his race at all. He is so focused when he competes, it's like a dream. He only gets faster, his spirit only rises higher, and his body only becomes stronger. When he runs, you can tell by the intensity in his eyes, that Jason Sapunka is out for all that he can get. Whatever is there, he'll take it.