At the End of the Line.

Prologue

Most people think that a race is made up of a start, that stuff in between, and the most important part. The finish line. That's not totally the case. I keep running and running, but I never have felt the sweet relief of crossing the finish. There are those few days that I am able to keep pushing forward, and barely feel the soreness of my legs and feet. Those days are rare. Most every other day seems to drag on forever as I continue to give all I have. When all I can hear is my heart pounding, and all I can feel is the pain shooting up my leg with each stride. But, the race I'm in isn't a race against people. My race, is a race against depression.