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A few years ago, I lived in Santa Monica, California, right on the beach. There’s a great bike path that goes along the ocean for seven and a half miles. So, fifteen miles round trip. On weekday afternoons, it’s almost empty. It’s perfect for going full speed. So a few times a week, I’d get on my bike and go as fast as I could for the fifteen-mile loop. I mean really full-on, 100 percent, head-down, red-faced sprinting. I’d finish exhausted and look at the time: forty-three minutes. Every ...