Marathon To the Finish Line

 Marathon to the Finish Line

The finish line is near. She can feel it. Months upon months of  practice - building muscle, refining her reflexes, regulating her heartbeat. She hears the crowd, cheering her on. Is it her they are encouraging or another? She can’t distinguish their words, but their energy and enthusiasm are palpable and urge her forward. There is no turning back now. She has prepared all her life for this marathon. She is aiming for under 3 hours, but knows that others have taken much longer, and even some who have not made it to the finish line.

She thinks back to the beginning of it all. Seems so long ago now. That time when she was just developing, building up to this moment. Each week she could tell she was getting stronger, growing into who she would become, this athlete. Her mother grew along with her. Ever present, supporting her every step of the way. Together they would commit to this cause, their combined life goal, a bond so strong it would endure forever no matter the outcome. She feels her mother now, with her at this moment, urging her on, pushing away all the doubts and “what if”s, existing only in this moment, the one they have both prepared for.

This home straight is taking longer than she had anticipated. Much longer. Its like she is treading water, floating in a translucent mire that traps her, stymies her progress. For now. She slows down, takes some time to gather her wits and her energy ready for the final sprint to the finish line. So close yet so far. She sees it now, a dim spec of light at the end of the tunnel. Push on, she tells herself as she speeds up with a final burst of energy. In her soul she feels her mother again helping her, and the crowd making muffled, indistinguishable sounds and words but becoming ever clearer. But then, she stops. An invisible force halts her progress as she “hits the wall”. Unable to push on she is suspended in time and place. Frozen but at the same time warm in her invisible but impenetrable bubble. This was not in the plan, not rehearsed or expected. What can she do? To relinquish her place and accept help now would be a blow to both her and her mother. A let down, a disappointment for them both. She hesitates. A millisecond turns into a minute turns into many. Stopped. She has stopped. She feels her energy depleting, nothing left. She hears her mother’s voice, again urging her on. “Come on, you can do it! You’re young and strong! I have nurtured you to this point, now you must go on!”, but it’s no use. She feels weak, powerless in the capsule in which she finds herself. She feels her heart rate drop and is conscious of her oxygen level depleting. Slowly she tucks her head down and begins to fall into a state of semi-consciousness. Barely aware of her surroundings now she closes her eyes and awaits the silence and peace that will engulf her.

What could have been? What could she have been? A champion of the world? A household name for years to come? A source of unending pride for her parents who had worked so hard to bring it all to fruition? Months of planning, training, their shared goal binding them together in its glorious pursuit. Her father an athlete of some repute in regional competitions – always in the top three in his age group. A fit man, tall and muscular with an intense gaze, focused on the goals ahead. Her mother an athlete in her own right – an Olympian twice over. A swimmer excelling in middle distance freestyle events. Fit, strong and determined. Superior genes passing on to her. There is no reason to fail, to falter. She can do this! She MUST do this, for them who have given her so much and have been with her throughout her preparation.

She hears a shout and can distinctly hear the words and feels the panic in the voice “Do something! She’s fading fast!”. With that she feels a strange pressure on her head, a pulling sensation, reefing her back into consciousness with startling suddenness. An out of body experience. She opens her eyes again and sees the finish line once more only this time it seems closer, and the world looks brighter than before. With one mighty thrust she launches herself forward, garnering the last atom of strength and energy. Her head is pounding now, it feels like it may detach from her body. The pain is intense, but she knows she must keep going until the end. The pain is essential for her survival at this point. So close now, nearly there!

“Aaaaaagh” she screams as she plunges headfirst over the finish line stretching her neck out and throwing her head back. She takes another deep breath and screams again – this time an expression of her relief and utter exhaustion. She gulps in lungfulls of air, oxygen surging through her bloodstream. Made it! She’s made it! Her eyes adjust to the bright lights around her and the deafening roar of the crowd. One of the team wraps her in a warm towel and smiles at her tenderly. Her eyes search the crowd for her mother.  It’s so bright now and the light hurts her eyes. Where is she? This was their journey together and her achievement is due to their combined effort, mother and daughter. She starts to cry. “shshshsh” comforts the team member “you’ve done so well Sweetie, lets go and find your Mum”.  She relaxes now, her effort finally rewarded. She breathes in the sweet, cool air and closes her eyes against the bright lights. It has been truly an out of body experience, never to be repeated – goal achieved. She briefly wonders about her father. Without him this journey would not have been possible, yet he remains remote, distant. She has always been so much more attached to her mother, this woman who gave her life, nurtured her.

And then she sees her. Eyes shiny with tears she reaches out to hold her child and together they cry. These tears are not borne of sorrow or despair, but from love and relief. Mother and child united once more.

“What will you call her?” asks the nurse as the doctor cuts the umbilical cord.

“I think I will call her Olympia” replied her mother. She snuggles into her mother’s chest and takes in her scent. They have completed this marathon together, just as her mother promised.