R.O.I.

When both my kids were young, we’d run
Together, both for health and fun.
I wasn’t very fast or strong
But I could always last as long
(Or longer) than my offspring could.
I’d like to think it did them good
As surely it did me: The time
We spent together was sublime.
I wasn’t training stars. I wanted
Them to understand the vaunted
“Runner’s high,” though truth be told,
My hope was really, when they’re old
And wondering where their leisure went,
A run won’t seem like punishment
But more like an escape, a gift,
A pleasant break…you get my drift.
Running doesn’t have to be
Their sport of choice. It is for me,
But that’s a fairly recent change.
My grown-up friends might find it strange,
But as a teen I only ran
When forced to do so. I began
To run for pleasure fairly late,
But soon came to appreciate
The relatively inexpensive
Exercise, and non-intensive
Structure of an evening jog,
Especially with kids or dog
(Or both) as company–the bliss
Of ignorance is naught to this.
So, how’d it go? They’ve moved away
To find their own paths, but today
They each agreed to let me run
Half-marathons beside them, one
This summer in Chicago, and
The other close to Disneyland
In late October. I’d explain
My feelings…but I have to train.

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About Michael

Silliness is good
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2 Responses to R.O.I.

  1. Daddy says:

    Cool! Dates?

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