Running when it’s hot, I’m slow.
Today was graced with overcast!
I put in extra effort, though,
Explaining why I’m still not fast.


Planning For Plan B

My hope for every marathon
Is that before my legs are gone
And all my giddy-up has git
I’m nearly mostly done with it.
Failing that (as oft I do)
I’m smiling as I’m running through
The finish chute despite the time.
Who’s ready for tomorrow? I’m.

On A (Rock ‘n’) Roll

Training for a marathon
Has highs and lows, and often on
The self-same day: A tempo run
Can hurt like hell but still be fun,
And likewise, you can do your best
And feel unequal to the test
On Saturday; on Sunday, though,
You might be fast while feeling slow.
Today in Portland’s half I rocked–
I held my pace and never walked–
But what that means a fortnight hence?
A coach might know, but I’m too dense
So, like a kayak on a river,
I’ll just let the day deliver
What it will, and stay afloat
As best I can. I trust my boat
(And legs) to master every mile
Till I finish with a smile.
Whether (likely) slow or fast,
Two weeks from now it will have passed
To make it eighteen in row
(And counting). Why? I still don’t know.