FIXED POINTS
I can see the light long before I reach it. Like a twinkling star in the night sky, it promises to be a yearned for place to rest my weary legs. I imagine biting into a juicy hotdog at the next petrol station and getting jacked up on coffee and Coke for a double portion of caffeine. The forecourt guides me in. Just a few hundred yards to my salvation. As I bridge the gap, a quiet inkling turns into a deafening truth. Closed.
Every last ounce of strength leaves my body as I stare into the gaping hole of emptiness. But I can‘t go easy on myself for too long or there‘s no chance of me finishing within the time limit. I jump back in the saddle, re-focus and carry on. The next petrol station won‘t be too far away.