her water bottle, but then today that didn’t seem to surprise her at all, and despite not having eaten she felt strong and physically able.
On the bottom of the hill path Abbie knew today was going to be a big effort, but she was psyched up for it; it would not hurt her today. She refused to look up at the hill summit, setting her gaze only on the path a few feet ahead of her. Steadily and slowly she thought, but the gradient kicked in and tugged at her leg muscles, making them tired and sore. Her breathing became more rapid and her heart was beating strongly, blood pumping around her system.
Steady, steady, she said to herself, as though somehow this would help her to pace herself and not overdo it.
At just past the halfway point where the gradient increased again Abbie now began to struggle, and she dug deep into her energy reserves, lifting her head and looking up at the top of the hill. She tried with all her might to lift her aching legs and take larger strides, but she couldn’t; burning muscle pain swamped her body and, her breathing out of control and dizziness rapidly filling her head, she had to stop short of the summit. She was pleased though as this was the furthest she ever had got. She began to walk the final part of the path, gasping for air as the rain continued to poor down.
After a few metres Abbie picked up her pace and start running again, her speed did quicken but the gradient proved too much. She was getting very tired very rapidly, all sense of power seeping from her limbs as she pumped her arms and legs, willing herself to go faster, until again she was barely moving and she accepted that the hill and its gradient had defeated her.
Abbie continued to walk with her hands on her hips, taking rapid mouthfuls of air. At the summit she gazed back down the path. She wondered how many times she had attempted this run now, 3 or 4 maybe, she didn’t know. How much longer would she be incapable of running these final 200 metres or so? She felt a sense of failure creep in, that despite her best efforts this was not enough, and maybe it would never be, maybe physically this was beyond her ability.
Abbie stood and, as her breath returned, she began to cry, she couldn’t stop it; her life she thought was doomed to misery and failure, in everything. She was soaked to the skin, her body damp but hot beneath her clothes, her hair wet inside her woollen hat, and she now hurt both inside and out.
Abbie knew that she had reason to feel this bad, but even if it killed her, even if she was never able to run this up hill, she was not going to stop trying, no, never. Likewise there was vague opportunity that she may be able to see Peter again, even if it was imagined or dreamt, and as long as it seemed real, as long as it felt real she would not give up. Never, even if she descended into utter madness, this was too precious to stop.
…………………………………………………………….
Later that day, when she had showered, dressed and finally forced herself to eat something, Abbie decided that now was the time to deal with the one thing she had been avoiding for days; she didn’t want to do it, not ever, but her mother’s persistence had paid off: it was time to pick up the ‘phone and speak to Peter’s parents.
Abbie knew deep down that they too would not want this difficult conversation either, but the cruel circumstance of life that had pushed them together at this time made it necessary.
Peter’s father answered the ‘phone and Abbie was glad it was him and not Peter’s mother. After they had exchanged the usual pleasantries, Abbie explained what she was planning regarding her return to work the next week. She knew from the clipped responses that he thought it was too soon, and she could picture Peter’s mother snivelling into her handkerchief in the background: how could she
On the bottom of the hill path Abbie knew today was going to be a big effort, but she was psyched up for it; it would not hurt her today. She refused to look up at the hill summit, setting her gaze only on the path a few feet ahead of her. Steadily and slowly she thought, but the gradient kicked in and tugged at her leg muscles, making them tired and sore. Her breathing became more rapid and her heart was beating strongly, blood pumping around her system.
Steady, steady, she said to herself, as though somehow this would help her to pace herself and not overdo it.
At just past the halfway point where the gradient increased again Abbie now began to struggle, and she dug deep into her energy reserves, lifting her head and looking up at the top of the hill. She tried with all her might to lift her aching legs and take larger strides, but she couldn’t; burning muscle pain swamped her body and, her breathing out of control and dizziness rapidly filling her head, she had to stop short of the summit. She was pleased though as this was the furthest she ever had got. She began to walk the final part of the path, gasping for air as the rain continued to poor down.
After a few metres Abbie picked up her pace and start running again, her speed did quicken but the gradient proved too much. She was getting very tired very rapidly, all sense of power seeping from her limbs as she pumped her arms and legs, willing herself to go faster, until again she was barely moving and she accepted that the hill and its gradient had defeated her.
Abbie continued to walk with her hands on her hips, taking rapid mouthfuls of air. At the summit she gazed back down the path. She wondered how many times she had attempted this run now, 3 or 4 maybe, she didn’t know. How much longer would she be incapable of running these final 200 metres or so? She felt a sense of failure creep in, that despite her best efforts this was not enough, and maybe it would never be, maybe physically this was beyond her ability.
Abbie stood and, as her breath returned, she began to cry, she couldn’t stop it; her life she thought was doomed to misery and failure, in everything. She was soaked to the skin, her body damp but hot beneath her clothes, her hair wet inside her woollen hat, and she now hurt both inside and out.
Abbie knew that she had reason to feel this bad, but even if it killed her, even if she was never able to run this up hill, she was not going to stop trying, no, never. Likewise there was vague opportunity that she may be able to see Peter again, even if it was imagined or dreamt, and as long as it seemed real, as long as it felt real she would not give up. Never, even if she descended into utter madness, this was too precious to stop.
…………………………………………………………….
Later that day, when she had showered, dressed and finally forced herself to eat something, Abbie decided that now was the time to deal with the one thing she had been avoiding for days; she didn’t want to do it, not ever, but her mother’s persistence had paid off: it was time to pick up the ‘phone and speak to Peter’s parents.
Abbie knew deep down that they too would not want this difficult conversation either, but the cruel circumstance of life that had pushed them together at this time made it necessary.
Peter’s father answered the ‘phone and Abbie was glad it was him and not Peter’s mother. After they had exchanged the usual pleasantries, Abbie explained what she was planning regarding her return to work the next week. She knew from the clipped responses that he thought it was too soon, and she could picture Peter’s mother snivelling into her handkerchief in the background: how could she
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