Slowtwitch interview with Henry Forrest

That feeling lasted until I had reached the turn-around point of the marathon. I don’t know why, but it seemed that for no reason I was getting tired extremely suddenly, like when a car runs out of gas. One minute you’re going along great, and then it sputters a few times and you’re coasting to a stop. Just like that. I was through. My good stride had been reduced to a shuffle. I was not just tired; I was tired of being tired. I was tired of hurting. I was tired of just shuffling. I was tired of running in the dark and not being able so see well. By that time I had only about three miles to go; I knew I was going to finish. There was no question of “could I;” I was just going to keep putting one foot in front of the other, and sooner or later I would see the finish line.