She put her arms around her husband’s neck, kissed him and thanked him for all of his support - then quickly slipped out into the dark silent night. Driving up the boreen, only a dim moon for light, the palms of her hands grew clammy. She could hear her heart thump in her chest, her stomach felt tight. “Was she doing the right thing”, she thought. '”Was it too late?” Turning onto the N17 heading towards the city, the memories started to flicker through her mind. That old familiar voice rang in her head. “Please come back. Promise you will come back. You're the one”, he had said. “This is the place for you!”

It was so long ago - too long ago. Was it thirty years? Was it too late? Why had it taken her so long to make up her mind? Could she even find the place now? Her stomach tightened with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. Shouldn’t she turn back - go back home to the waiting arms of her ever-faithful husband?

The memories were like a magnetic force from the past, pulling her closer to where she needed, no wanted, to be. Driving through the city, the tears welled up in her eyes. She could remember his face, the busy city lights obscuring her view.  And then she saw it. It was as if her car new where she wanted, had to, go - that same old small dimly lit road. Looking to the right - sadness, excitement, regret, a mixture of emotions, formed a gentle smile on her face.

There it was at last - the Dangan Athletic track.

The place had changed, but yet looked so familiar. The day so many years ago came flooding back. Once the home-place of a then prestigious athletic club, she had taken part in speed-trials that day for membership to the club. The coach had been so impressed with her speed that he pleaded for her to return the following week as a member. “Promise you will come back”, the ghostly voice echoed. Circumstances however had prevented her from ever returning - until now.

The club was gone. The coach was gone. But there it was - the Dangan track.  She felt a lump in her throat as she stepped out onto the tartan track and started into an easy jog. Tears mixed with sweat and rolled down her cheeks.

She was back!

It took thirty years but she was back - for the Tuesday night track sessions, with the now even more prestigious Athenry Athletic Club. And she would be back again, and again, and again...........and every Tuesday night.

Nothing will stop her now.

Martina Passman.