The Long Run

I step out the screen door into the world and leave behind the stress of homework, grades, chores, parents, expectations, and college

Society has no hold on me; it cannot keep me here,

for my legs are my getaway vehicle, and I’m speeding out of town.

My legs will carry me away, far away, until they explode with freedom.

The sun highlights the ground where I land, my own personal spotlight.

It follows me wherever I turn.

Around the street sign, up the hill, across the road, it follows.

It even imprints on me, at first a warm hug, then a burn from holding me too long and too tight.

My feet are indeed touching the ground, but they are flying more.

Each bound a takeoff, followed by a landing

equally graceful.

The feet’s pillows are tempurpedic, but they cannot sleep.

I will them to stay alive, no

stay vibrant, stay excited to take each step.

I am a metronome: steady, even

Left, Right, Left, Right I go.

I won’t break the tempo.

The aches-ignored, the exhaustion-discarded.

My soul is forever young and feeling fiery as ever.

Most may have given up, but I keeping striking.

I’m a ticking time bomb, a boiling teapot, a gasoline fueled fire, a relentless storm-I blow through every cross-walk with incredible strength and power.

I am unstoppable, the downhill propelling me and my spirit, increasing my confidence.

Rather than a clunk, clunk, clunk, it is a boom, boom, boom.

I am not a cumbersome, old boot banging on the floor, I am a firework

    bursting with light, color, and strength. My power is hard to capture in a photograph.

A cautious hare appears, he wants to cross the street-but there are cars.

He does not understand the rules of the road, he does not have the right of way no matter what.

I don’t have time to wish him good luck, but I wish the best for him.

This rabbit still plagues my mind, his innocent face burning in my heart, which is now racing with fear

I am scared for him

    No I am terrified for him.

There’s a difference between natural death and man-made death.

I hope he is smart enough to stay away, fast enough to run away, and kind enough to warn his friends.

I will him to escape, he scampers into the bushes.

Thank goodness he heard me and listened.

Here is the predator. The howling creature that stalks the streets of Poinsettia and El Fuerte hoping to devour innocent little kitty cats.

The coyote.

When I look at him, I see mystery, curiosity, and bravery. I see an equal.

I do not see a danger, a threat, an unpredictable, mad beast. I see an animal with the same survival needs as humans.

He does not attack me, run after me, bark at me, lunge at me, or bare his teeth at me.

Holding eye contact, staring but not judging, wondering but not asking-I run on.

Yes I do it for the medals, the praise, the relaxation, the peacefulness, but also for the adventure.

You never know what the next run will bring.

Who knows what you’ll see: a hawk, a car crash, a friend driving home from school, a provocative bumper sticker, a puffy cloud that looks like a turtle.

Who knows what you’ll smell: Pizza Port’s freshly made pepperoni pizzas, gasoline from the 7-11 gas station, grilled hamburgers from someone’s backyard, fertilizer applied to the white roses along the Poinsettia.

Who knows what you’ll feel: rain, wind, an overgrown Bird of Paradise, a bee stinging you for no reason, a bird pooping on your head.

Who knows what you’ll hear: a police’s sirens chasing a speedy driver, a child demanding a hot chocolate from Peet’s Coffee, screeching of tires who forgot to take it easy on the turns.

The sun starts to set, the traffic starts to fade, the temperature starts to drop, I start to reach the end of my route.

    The end of my journey for today, but certainly not for long.

It will start again tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and even after my race.

For every time I lace up my running shoes, I resume my adventure.

I’m in it for the long run, but I am going everywhere.

This poem is about: 
Me

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