While boarding the flight back, I felt an uncomfortable stomach-churning. I called up home to ask about Misri, and my mother gave a satisfactory answer. The uneasiness continued all through the journey. Once we reached home, Misri was running a high fever. Upon consultation, the doctor prescribed some medicine. We fed Misri and went to bed.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and decided to quit at that point rather than try and finish the race and worsen my injury. It took a lot more mental courage to pull out than it did to sign up and train. I had promised Sumit I would come back whole and not broken. Next morning, I took the flight back home. I cried for many many days though. I will go back another year soon, because I know I am persistent.