When her feet felt the upward slope for the second time, Kitasan Black instantly sensed that something was wrong.
The last time she had climbed the slope on the side straight had been shortly after leaving the Start Gate.
Back then, her stamina had been like a surging tide poised to break, full and overflowing.
With that kind of stamina, every step she took seemed to carry endless momentum, enough to crush through every obstacle ahead.
But now, she had already run more than 2,000 meters.
In the races she had run before, after covering 2,000 meters, the Finish Line would be right before her in just a few, perhaps a dozen seconds.
She might even have crossed the Finish Line already, basking in the glory of victory.
But in this Kikuka Sho, nearly another 1,000 meters still stretched out before her.
Even as she gradually increased her speed, the remaining distance would likely take a full minute to cover.
It was not as though she had not known this before the race, or had failed to prepare herself mentally.
But now that she had truly reached this point and experienced it firsthand, Kitasan Black suddenly felt as if a heavy hammer had smashed into her heart, making it jolt violently.
At the same time, she was stunned to discover that the stamina she had always been proud of, which rarely left her tired, was now hissing away like air leaking from a punctured ball.
The uphill stretch, entering the Third Turn for the second time—so far, she was still fine.
Her breathing remained in its familiar rhythm, as did her arm swing and stride.
As she entered the turn and cut forward along the Inner Lane, her rhythm still did not change much.
The changes began when she entered