Physical training topic for Bonus Chakra (private)

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Hanikaro stood, once again, amongst the shifting sands of the legendary, infamous desert of the Land of Winds. No cloak today to shield him from the suns scorching rays. It was nearly one o'clock, according to the suns positioning in the sky, though it nearly blinded him to look up and confirm this. The city, with its towering high rises, even visible despite the valley in which it lay, was a few miles away, the haze of heat obscuring it's magestic modern sight. During the day it simply looked like a series of buildings, but at night, it was a beacon of light, and activity, shining out in the endless, isolated emptiness of the desert. And it was this isolated emptiness that Hanikaro Senju needed this day. He was in a crouched position on a relatively large sand dune. His hands, fingers extended, were pressing into the sand. He counted in his head, calmly, not a single sound around him for miles- so calm that it made his thoughts seem loud. "One... Two... Three..." As his mental timer went off, Hanikaro burst into motion. He hurled himself into the familiar crouching stance that was used by most shinobi for long distance sprinting and movement. His sandals surged through the sand, as he charged forward across the desert, sun beating down on him, eyes always dead ahead. Sand sprayed up behind him, as the lose footing of the dune worked against him, making it all the harder to run like this. Had he so desired, Hanikaro could have quite easily channeled a sufficient amount of chakra to his feet, allowing to step across the dunes as if using snowshoes- however, efficieny wasn't the point of this days excercise. The point of his all out sprint agains the hostile conditions of desert was for a single, defining reason. To grow stronger. It was the second half to the formula for increasing ones own reserves of chakra and stamina: physical endurance training. He pedaled against the dunes, already having run nearly a mile, going at top speed the whole time never once slowing. Still, the distant spires of Sunagakure had barely moved in the distance, despite his fast progress. His goal? To run a full circle around the city from this distance: a forty mile run on the whole, without slowing, without resting. Such activity would kill a genin, and was even dangerous for a chunin to do, especially in these hostile conditions. Nevertheless, unperturbed, Hanikaro surged forward, eyes, always focused straight ahead. Nearly four miles. He owed this to his Kazekage, to the man who had given him everything: Hanikaro had survived the tulmutous civil war because of Lord Howl, had been taken of the streets, and found a reason to live because of the great man whose wise reign kept Sunagakure the beacon of prosperity, culture, and modernization that it was today. The least he could do in return for the enormous charities the lord of Sunagakure had bestowed upon him was become stronger, so that he may become an even more useful tool in his hand. To serve Lord Howl, and the village, was Hanikaro's purpose for existing, and if fufilling that purpose meant pushing ghimself to the brink of death, then so be it. Twenty miles. The city had moved nearly 180 degrees in his periphiral vision, but Hanikaro was tiring. He had been going 100% of his speed the entire way, and every muscle in his body was beginning to ache and protest with each wide step. Because of how the dunes inhibited ones progress, Hanikaro's body felt as if he had gone almost double that distance. Still he pressed on, dozens of beads of sweat rolling of his bronze skin. Almost 30 miles. His feet ached, his sandals so full of sand that it felt as if he were running barefoot. His entire body screamed in protest with each additional step. Still he pressed on, determination keeping him standing, moving forward, forward, grimacing through the cries of agony that his muscles sent spasming throughout his entire body. The sun was beginning to set in the Horizon. His body burned with each step, his pace having slowed considerably since he started. He panted, his lungs aching with the heavy deep breaths, as he jogged forward. Determination was pherhaps the only thing keeping him up. At long last, stumbling, barely still standing, the sun having recceeded beneath the desert horizon, he stumbled to the gates of Suna, collapsing from Exhaustion, unconcious, but succesful. It was three days until he awoke in the medical ward.