Today is for running,
And this is how she feels.
She will run the crap out of this day, she will.
She will ignite her inner goddess,
and
she will be fearless.
She will be a Badass.
She will get it done,
and then some.
She will not count miles, or work on her pace.
She will not think about her next race.
An oiled machine,
she will show the world
her tenacious game face.
She will not work on her time,
or veer away from a long, steady climb.
She will push it, she will.
Damn, she will push it,
push it good,
with churning legs, like solid wood.
She may even push it twice.
Because she can, you know.
She can.
Hills? Keep em’ coming.
She will turn her music up, and put her head down,
she eats hills for breakfast,
sour, bitter, then gloriously sweet.
And today is the one day she will not be beat.
You see,
today is for running,
And this is how she feels.
Depression is her bitch today, every stride a door slammed,
in the face of,
in front of,
“it.”
A profound and vicious fuck you to the eating disorder
that bent her over,
figuratively, literally,
for all those lost and lonely years.
Sometimes she even breathes them out,
those wicked words,
as she goes, she does,
she has to, you know.
To keep it away,
she can’t be polite.
You see,
today when she runs, when she chooses to run,
she’s running away from “it”
that shit that still haunts her.
Away from her demons,
and away, away,
ever away,
from the facade, the walls she used,
to close herself in, so she could survive.
Today is for running,
and she will run the crap out of this day,
run the crap out of it,
she will,
and she doesn’t mind,
if you know.
Yes, she will put on that obnoxious neon hat
you’ve seen it, the orange one
you’ll see her
coming, going
Just slow down, okay?
Give her extra room.
The goddess, her,
she will make eye contact,
she might even look a little mean,
because she’s not afraid,
anymore,
she knows who she is.
She’s that Badass,
the one who knocked a screeching monkey off her back.
And you’ll give her a wide berth,
if you know what’s good for you.
She deserves that much from you,
she does.
Because you will see her,
but you will not see through her,
for she is made of stuff tougher
than unyeilding steel
with sturdy shoots
of confidence, of self respect,
that only grow stronger with every step.
They sprout anew,
in parts and places within her soul,
they do,
and they weren’t there before,
before the running began,
but now they appear,
every time
she firmly says, “no more.”
You think she’s slender?
Like a soft, bending stem?
Oh buddy,
She’s as solid as they come,
and she willed it to happen,
do you understand?
she willed it,
she willed it,
her will is why she’s here.
Today is for running
and
she will run,
run the crap right out of this day,
toward her own divinity, toward possibility.
Do you see them?
Those intangibles mentioned?
They are but just on the horizon,
her horizon,
and she’s pressing ever forward, she’s cresting, right now.
With fists clenching, and legs pumping,
with eyes blazing like the fiery sun,
do you see her?
Oh, I know you do.
Today is her day to run.