Long Way Back.

The circle was near complete. Two years of tears, heartache and then being told "No, it wasn't possible." But Kathy persevered. Call it determination, guts or just plain pig-headedness, she didn't care. Today, she closed the book on frustration.

One Monday afternoon almost two years ago, Kathy's life changed. A series of events led to her losing her right leg below the knee and her left foot, just above the ankle. She had had both amputated within days of the incident.

The initial outpouring of love from friends and family was much appreciated. Fundraising efforts went a huge way toward financially supporting her recovery, but then the support ended. And depression set in. A sense of loneliness that Kathy had never once felt before.

It began to consume everything in Kathy's life. Her husband, despite his best efforts, was pushed away. He was emotionally scarred from the events of that tragic day too, but when pushed, he fell. He wasn't as strong as Kathy.

When the medical bills kept pouring in, the funds dried up. Kathy was left with the most basic of prosthetics. Budget spending cuts in the health system meant Kathy was out of time and money.

Her day-to-day life continued, but the pain and darkness was enveloping her. Her family were soon at arms length, as her dependency to painkillers and other softer narcotics increased. She was soon seen as an embarrassment to be around.

Then under the neon glow of a flea bag motel, clarity came calling.

Kathy happened to be limping along a dank hallway, when she heard a gun go off. She hobbled back to her room, spotting a gunman escaping down the fire escape.

After being interviewed by police for her statement, a local news reporter called Lauren Justice, saw the deep despair in Kathy's eyes.

She recognised her from the terrible tragedy that cost her the natural ability to walk. She asked if she could do a feature news piece on her struggles since the accident. Lauren wanted to point out the deficiencies in the health care system and the vulnerable people that it left in it's wake.

Kathy initially hesitated, sensing that this stranger in the lemon suit was just out to make a name for herself. But Lauren didn't push too hard. She handed Kathy her business card in a handshake, with a hundred dollar bill wrapped inside.

The turning point was Kathy seeing her own face on television.

She was disgusted at what she saw.

Cracked lips, greasy blonde hair that once was flowing and pockmarked cheeks that showed a malnourished soul. That was enough.

The pig-headedness that drove her down was now working in reverse. She called Lauren, asking for a meeting. She agreed to an interview and made a startling claim. This story could be beneficial for both their lives. Lauren would get her exclusive and Kathy could save herself from an early, despairing death.

That day was the turning point. Kathy had achieved everything and more, since that meeting on camera. If any person thought that during that interview that Kathy was anything other than a nut job, they would have been correct.
But they didn't know the spirit within Kathy.

In the eleven months since the exclusive interview, Kathy had gotten clean. With Lauren's help, she had got a job and her own place. She had reconnected with her family, who were very happy to aid her recovery. With the exposure from the interview, Kathy had reestablished the victims fund.

With one major selling point - she was going to run the marathon that had crippled her.

She was told it wouldn't be possible. But after seven months of physical torture in training, here Kathy was lacing up her sneakers. There was only twenty minutes before the start.

She had done fourteen interviews, with all the major networks and radio stations. She was the inspirational story of the year. Several agents had approached her, asking her to do motivational speaking. 

And none of this would have happened, unless she was standing in the wrong spot at the wrong time, two years ago. But now Kathy was ready for the race of her life. A life chapter closed.   

Debut.

Jamie hadn't really slept all night. His father had told him to try and relax, but the excitement and the impending prospect of what might lie ahead - was making his hands sweat at the mere thought.

Jamie had just turned seventeen and was pursuing his lifelong dream. He had taken the advice of his dying grandfather, and took the boat across the Irish Sea. Many had failed in their quest before him - but he was determined to succeed.

And now he was within touching distance of achieving it.

The whistling hiss of the boiled kettle woke his father. He had paid almost four hundred euro for a late flight to Manchester that lasted only forty minutes. But because he didn't have time to book a hotel, he had to endure a night on a lumpy sitting room couch.

Jamie was delighted that his father had dropped everything and come over. He always had been there for Jamie - and he sure as hell wasn't going to miss this special moment. Jamie urged him that today might not be the day.

"I might not get a run out Dad. It could be next week or next month before I get my chance."

"I will pay the same for every weekend for the next year just to be in the crowd to witness your moment. Son, I'm gonna be there to see this with my own eyes. No matter what the cost!"

The small two bedroomed flat was home for the past two months. Jamie shared it with another Irish lad called Matthew. He hadn't been called up to the first team squad just yet. They had followed more or less the same career path, but now Jamie had pulled ahead of him.

Jamie packed his gear bag, double checking he had everything. Before leaving the flat, his Dad stopped him.

"I have something for you. Something that your grandad wanted you to have. He made me go out and buy these for you before he passed."

"What are they?"

"Arm sweatbands."

"Oh! Didn't he wear something similar when he played?"

"It was his trademark. He used to get stick for it, but he still wore them. He wanted these for you, if your special day ever came."

"So grandad held these?"

"He did. And he wanted me to buy them in your colour - red."

The trip in the taxi to the ground was made in silence. Jamie listened to his ipod, drowning out the nerves. The noise level around the ground was relatively quiet. Within an hour that would change. Forty four thousand excited people would change that.

They walked through security and this is where Jamie had to part ways with his father.

"If today's the day, just do what you always do. Play your best. Be yourself. And listen to what the boss wants you to do. Don't let anything distract you from what you can achieve. You are special."

With his father's ringing endorsement, Jamie entered the changing room of the matchday first team for the first time. A murmur from some of the senior players in his direction made Jamie nervous. He didn't really know many of the senior players all that well. Glances and nodding in his direction mildly reassured him.

The club captain and giant of a man that was Ashley Nicks, walked over to him. He asked for everyone's attention. He said that it was the club's tradition that any new matchday trainees had to perform a rite of passage. They had to go around the room and kiss the leather of every players football boot. Jamie hesitated, not knowing if this was an actual tradition or a very silly prank of induction.

The silence told him that it wasn't a prank. He rose seeing almost twenty sets of eyes on him. It was only as Jamie kissed the boot of the last player that the laughter started. Belly laughter. But captain Nicks gave Jamie a big hug and the tension that Jamie was feeling earlier was gone.

The manager walked in just as the laughter started to die down. Seeing all the boots lying on the floor in a semi-circle, he realised what had just happened.

"So I see that the boys caught you out Jamie?"

The boss knew his name?

"Well don't worry Jamie - they'll all be kissing your boots in the days, months and years ahead. Because you're starting today on the left wing - I hope number twenty one sits well with you?"

Jamie could barely utter a response. He managed a nod.

He pulled on the red jersey and shorts. He checked his shin pads were in place about five or six times. He laced up his black boots and drank some fluids. The bell rang inside the dressing room. The boss spoke passionately, giving everyone instructions on their role.

The last thing Jamie did before entering the maelstrom of noise was pull on his granddad's arm sweatbands.

The long journey was over. Jamie stepped onto the turf to make his debut. His father cried tears of joy.