Runner (NaPoWriMo 16)

The days of marathons shall come again.


The most impossible step
Is step one
Followed closely by two and three
And whichever steps pound earth
At the two-thirds mark
Or before your round the final bend

In between you are sailing
Breeze-cooled cheeks
Wet with winning
Paper cups drained and crumpled
The pursuit of the woman just ahead
Until you surge and she is is beside, Behind

There are instants you forget to breathe
Forget to feel your weight give in to gravity
Every muscle in your legs tenses and relaxes to the beat of your playlist
You are bounding
In flashes, flying
Above the weary world

You don’t have to do this
And that is the point
The river bends along the curve of your steaming body
The branches herald your intention with spring perfume
You are here timeless,

This may go on for minutes or hours
What was it that worried you, again?
What reason did you give yourself for this being impossible?

The most glorious step is the final stride
Your entire body thrown across the transom
Your untouchable declaration that you are Here
Collapsing into waiting and waving arms
In the heavy world

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