A celebration of running’s
To love is to relish the mundane. As runners, we invest deeply in a sport of repetition, failure and loneliness. And still, we love it – not despite these things, but because of them. This shared passion creates a secret language, a lingua franca that transcends pace or prominence, culture or creed. And that's running.
Sometimes a simple morning routine is the finest part of the day.
I know this,
because I know
that the ones who ask for rain
are the same as the ones who ask for warmth.
Like a baby bird, reassuring it
and ourselves, that it’ll slow down
that it can last.
Here It Is
How often do we catch ourselves
in a nondescript Tuesday, and say
“Well, here it is”.
In the turbulence of a spin cycle,
things will bounce and roll and maybe even get a bit left behind,
but in the end, most of it comes out in the wash.
Maybe somewhere along a quiet street,
on a simple afternoon,
the wind might bring about everything
you've ever looked for.
At what point does pain become pleasure?
Or vice versa?
Certainly there must rest a moment between the two
teetering on the cusp of both simultaneously.
For one fragile &
I sit effortless
Out of Step
I’ve come to be known as someone
who has picked a fight
with the weather.
The birds hush. The rustling stops.
And your heart tells you that it thinks it can go on forever.
And in that moment, you say to your heart.
Even though you know it can’t be true.
I believe you.
Did you ever stop to marvel
at all the skills of which
we’ve come equipped?
Then, maybe you round a corner and you see
the way a tree moves.
Or, you feel
the way your neck can house a heartbeat.
We find out early on
that we all become the tailors
of the fabric of our story.
Do you know
how long it takes
for your blood to travel around
the entirety of your body?
Although the mailbox arrived in 1858,
It seems as though we’ve been set on finding
new meanings for everything since it all began.