I seen this article in the Chicago Tribune Sunday paper in the Metro section and right away I thought of Melissa over at My Back Pages and I wanted to put it into my journal today.
It is called: The rhyme and reason of running
(With marathon day dawning O'er the streets of old Chi-town A runner and non-runner Both decided to sit down) The marathon was on Sunday
To talk about the meaning
Of the long and winding race
Which to the one who didn't run
Seemed like a senseless chase.
"Please tell me," said the non one
"oh please tell me why you run
That huffing and that puffling!
Oh please tell me why that's fun.
"I look at all the joggers
As they trot along the street
And all I think is man oh man
That's murder on their feet
"They're grimaching and grunting
And they're limping like lame ducks
My friend, I have to tell you
Why I think that running......"
The runner took offense then
And he cried, "How wrong you are!"
He laced his new New Balance shoes,
He munched his Balance bar.
He'd loaded up on carbos
And he'd quaffed some Gatorade
He didn't want to hear this whiner
Pout on his parade.
"I run to feel I'm flying."
said the runner: full of glee,
"It's only when I'm running
That I feel I'm really free.
"I know that when I'm jogging
I may look just like a dork.
But thanks to all this exercise
I've trimmed off pounds of pork."
The runner tapped his belly
It was lean and hard as stone
He winked at the non-runner:
"Maybe you could use some tone?"
"Oh, hush," said the non-runner,
"I am not done with my rant."
She finger'd the top button
Of her strangely shrinking pant.
"I used to run the big ones,
Oh yes, I was once like you
I thought that bliss when I was young
Lay in a Nike shoe."
She flet her heart rate rising
Tho she hadn't run an inch
It's true her waist had widened
And her jeans begun to pinch.
She went on:
"Two dozen miles and then some
With my wing-ed feet mid-air
I floated like an angel
As I ran away from care.
"With spurs that pierced my heels
Just like a thousand tiny pins
With toenails that were blackened
And with splinters in my shins.
"My knees were crushed to gravel
And my hamstrings tight as wire
Oh yes I still remember
Running's rush and thrill and fire."
A teardrop filled her eye then
Did she miss her running days?
Oh no! She must resist! She
Must resist the running craze!
"Your running is not healthy, dude!
You're hooked on runner's high!
You ought to switch to yoga
It's good even for a guy."
The runner gave a chuckle
While he did a runner's stretch
He pitied the non-runner
She was such an old kvetch.
"You say that I'm addicted but
I'll tell you what I think
An overdose of milage
Is far better than a drink.
"That pounding on the pavement
Sure beats knocking back the booze
It's also a lot cheaper
Even with these pricey shoes.
"I live to run!" he carried on.
"My running keeps me sane!
So what that when I'm sixty-five
I'll hobble with a cane?"
And just like that he sprinted off
And left her in the dirt.
She watched him with a wishful gaze:
She'd miss the race-day shirt.
I hope one day to be able to run in a marathon but first I have to start walking. LOL I hope you like it Melissa.