Breakfast of Champions

I cannot explain this
shuffled-off impasse
I fail to define it:
A sloth’s-worth grind,
re-exhausted,
down-town route,
and then, breakfasted,
but slow-up, finished off (again).

Still only fifty-one (I think),
here’s the rub:
I struggle more uphill,
gradient-grabbed:
Racked, wake-tired,
this foot-journeyed track;
Give me inner strength,
please, to make it back.

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