I first starting writing this post a couple of weeks ago in response to the Post-40 Bloggers writing prompt“Write about the most courageous thing you’ve done.”

At that time, I thought I was going to write about the day my twin sister and I walked over hot coals at an Anthony Robbins convention. (I only knew how brave we had been about a year later when news reports broke about a man who had done the same thing… and contracted first degree burns for his trouble.)

Although, saying ‘we’ had been brave is a reach. Usually the one to take risks, it was actually my sister on this occasion who stepped up to the plate and took the whole thing in her stride. (Being hot coals, strides were of course a good option.) Anyway, in the queue to follow her next, I suddenly had what I know now to be a very rational thought: “What if this doesn’t work and my feet are fried?”

This was not the pep talk Mr Robbins had rehearsed with us. In a trance-like state, we were supposed to chant whatever it is idiots chant who decide to spend their weekend walking over hot coals.

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