THERE is no one who has ever competed in any sport, at any level, who won't recognise the feeling.
When Eamonn Coghlan came around the final bend in the 5,000m at the 1983 World Championships, looked over at Dmitry Dmitriyev and realised that he had the Soviet athlete beaten, that he had nailed it, the whole nation recognised the feeling.
There was no trace of arrogance in the moment, no sense that Coghlan was rubbing his opponent's nose in it.
Rather, here was a sportsman at the peak of his powers, an athlete who had previously suffered the pain of defeat in major championships, not because of any lack of talent or effort, but just because of slightly misjudged timing.
This time he got it absolutely spot on. He had already achieved more than most would dare to dream of, but you got the sense that he needed that win to fulfil a personal need. He deserved it.