last night, i laced up

patient running shoes in the corner.

it was time.

and miles between here and the last marathon

and i parked my car.

watched my boys and their friends

play hide and seek

the way teenagers do

when they still want to be

little kids.  silliness, and don’t tell them

where we are.

walked to the corner.

unsure if i could pull it off.  just 3 miles.

i turned on the silent watch

that sat on the shelf for two weeks

because i was never going to run again.

ever.

turned on the music.

dueling banjos, from that long run and

the pit bull.

and i was springing down the street.

fleet feet.  grinning.

 and the roads that i look at with disdain

on most days

were opening their arms to me. once again.

and welcoming me home.

and as much as i complain about them

not the hill again. not the field. it’s too cold.

i’m sick of these bricks and the streetlights

that mock me.  saying.  hurry.

there they were.  embracing my gait.

 over the catwalk at dusk and looking up and asking

again?

and hello.  and thank you.

down through those wicked paths where

i’ve left my sweat and tears and joy

and my pace.  i didn’t even care.

because i was running.

meant to do three.  did five.  didn’t

want to stop

wanting to celebrate this non-run

this anonymous feet on pavement night

knowing that

my heart will go on.

and i can survive anything.

because.

i am a runner.

 

*From Silver Lined Heart, by Taylor Mali

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3 thoughts on “spontaneous celebrations of nothing at all*

  1. Beautiful! I often feel like that. So glad you got out there and enjoyed a good run! You ARE a runner and you can do anything!!!

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