Drenched from head to toe, I was still a couple of miles away from shelter. The chilling rain fell quickly with little remorse. My body grew numb as the rain grew colder. Jogging along, the precipitation felt like frozen, miniature daggers stabbing me from all over. Every ounce of me wanted to throw in the towel, but I knew that wasn’t an option. This was for my own good.
At some moment in time it felt as though I allowed my mind to lose all consciounsess. I allowed all senses to shut down. At this point I could only hear the faint sounds of my choppy breathing, ignoring the ocean of pelting rain that surrounded me. I can’t even imagine what traffic passing by me must have been thinking. Once in a great while a thoughtful passerby would stop and lower their window a crack to offer me a ride. Oh, how baly I would have loved to jump in and enjoy the warmth of a car ride home accompanied by a perfect stranger.
My feet and legs just kept moving and the comfort of my dry home was only blocks away. My stomach grew tight, my breath grew short and the urge to vomit came and went over a dozen times. Disregarding it all, I kept moving forward. The quicker I jogged, the more overwhelming the sensation of nausea became, bit if I stopped to rest, I would only remain soaked, freezing, miserable and unaccomplished. There was no comforting outlet. I kept my pace and fought the disgusting stomach acid that I could feel making its way up my esophagus.
You’re going to be one of the best someday. I said this to myself all the time.
Thinking back to s little as three years ago. How far I’ve come in such a short
time. I’m not the same person I used to be. I’m one of the rare few who choose
to take this big step. Not only have I grown up physically, but mentally as well.
I’ve disciplined my brain to accept all aspects of physical conflict. Nothing,
I repeat, nothing, could have stood in my way.
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