Not Being Dorando

The finishing line is in sight. Having matriculated back in August of last year, I have spent two months on-campus, six weeks on my first teaching practice, completed Assignment 1 (3500 word essay), four weeks on-campus; six weeks on second teaching practice (passing with full merits); completed Assignment 2 (3500 word essay); and am now on my final (four week) teaching practice.

By the end of this practice, I am required to submit another 3000 words of research (while having an almost full timetable). Following that, I have to prepare a 15-minute presentation on said research project, and pass a final interview on-campus.

I kinda feel like yon wee Italian bloke at the 1908 Olympics. Dorando Pietri was the guy who - having trained hard and targeted the marathon for a gold medal - bust a gut during the race to outstrip his main competitor, arrived at the stadium exhausted and badly dehydrated. Queen Alexandra had asked for the race to be extended by 385 yards so that she could see the finishing line more clearly from the Royal box, and the wee man was forced to endure an ultimately crushing final lap - collapsing repeatedly and being helped back to his feet. Although crossing the line first, he was disqualified for having received this assistance, and the medal went to the other bloke.

Having put in all the effort over the last eight months, I feel like I have arrived in the stadium, can see the finishing line and know that my legs will give way sometime real soon now.

I just need to make sure they give way sometime after June 6th.