There you are.
50 meters from the finish line after a grueling 4950 meters that preceded it.
You pushed your way past runners, dug deep to will yourself up the hills, and fought through the pain that accompanied it. Physically and mentally, you were exhausted, but seeing the end was all the determination you needed to carry you over the remaining distance.
Then suddenly, and unwillingly, your legs are no longer there.
This isn’t euphoria striking where your body is taking over and doing the work for you.
No.
It is something much more sinister than that. The pain has overtaken your body to the extent where you’re numb. Adrenaline isn’t the driving factor behind your performance anymore since it has been used up. Your mental state has been shaken to the extent of delusion, so that’s out the window. It has all narrowed in on your physical capabilities that the rest of your body has been rebelling against since they are nonexistent.
So what is left beyond that?
Nothing.
You try to grab any bit of power from the energy that is radiating from the cheering and ecstatic crowd encompassing you down the stretch, but your reel is falling short and isn’t latching on to anything.
Your vision is redirected from the line and now focused on the sky.
Contradictory to everything and everyone that is rushing over and around your limp body that is sprawled across the grassy plain, time is moving slowly. You can see the actions in your head that you are trying to will to be carried out, but your mind and body are no longer in synch. The spirit that was able to propel your deteriorating state forward has now ascended from the captivity of internal and external torture.
A piece of you has left as well, and as you look down upon yourself, you realize that you are just an arm’s length away from crossing that beautiful white line.
5th, 6th, 7th, 8th… You’re placement is decreasing in a direct relationship with your dwindling pride. Similar to a baby first learning to crawl, you try to scoot the weight of your body forward since that is all you can muster up. The shouts of elation turn to cries of agony… and this isn’t you that we are talking about. From within the crowd, a parent on the sideline is fighting their way through the coaches that have their hold on them. Teammates fidget with water bottles as officials block them off from the course.
“DON’T TOUCH THEM!”
“But they’re hurt!”
“THEY’LL GET DISQUALIFIED!”
“Can’t you see they need help?!”
The bickering between those who are concerned for your well-being and those who are just trying to do their job turn into empty echoes that vibrate off the walls of your brain that are devoid of any thoughts. The shell of your being has zoned in on only one mission, which was to finish what you started. You have been programmed to automatically turn away from any aid and ignore those who ache and itch to bring you warmth and restore your comfort once again. After all, you’ll earn it on the other side of the finish line, which is what matters most, right?
Maybe. Maybe not.
It all comes down to a matter of opinion and where your priorities may lie, but jeopardizing your condition for the sake of pride AND being penalized for it if you decide against it is a topic of debate that has been up in the air for quite some time. Fellow competitors have just recently been granted the ability to lend a helping hand without being scolded for their selfless act of kindness, but only if they do so before they complete their own battle to the end. Beyond that, you’re essentially all alone out there in an already individual-based sport. If you have already clamored your way to reach your destination that is located at the tips of your fingers, what is the harm or shame in knowing that you gave it all you had to the point of drained exhaustion to be carried by a kind soul the last bit?
There is a thin line between health and heart, and we are literally running (or crawling) it.
So what do you think is the true cost of crossing a race off your checklist, no matter what it takes to get there? Is it worth it in the end to say that you did it as your faint body is hauled away in the back of an ambulance? Or would you have rather taken a hold of that hand that was extended out to you in a yearning plea of assistance to prevent you from further damage?