“As we climbed the hill close to Foster Avenue, I came close to a complete stop. I was in agony. Tears of pain ran down my cheeks. I felt like an idiot. I stood at the side, just inches from the encouraging spectators. I was in no mood though to embrace their encouragement. In fact, it irritated me. I felt like giving up, but I knew I wouldn’t, I would reach Merrion Square and that finish line, even if I had to crawl.
As I stood immersed in self-pity, I felt an arm come around my shoulder. By now a steady trickle of tears was making its way down my cheeks. I felt embarrassed and had my head bent over, shielding this visual sign of my condition. I needed to know however who my guardian was, so I raised my head feeling its weight like never before. I was met by the sight of an elderly man perhaps in his late seventies. A man whose face offered sympathy, empathy and encouragement all together.
“Dont worry. They’re all feeling it,” he offered. I had neither the energy nor the will to respond verbally. Even if I had I could scarcely have mouthed a response as I had nothing left in the tank. “Just put one foot in front of the other,” he continued “and I promise you that you will reach the finish.”
Continue Reading
Outside the comfort zone... 