My high school track career was cut short
by a stress fracture in my right tibia.

I always felt like it was because of nutrition.
Mom recently blamed herself and dad
for not getting me good shoes.

It was probably both, but I’ve also had it
in the back of my mind that it was God.

I would be an Olympian of another sort,
casting off mental weight and sin,
running with endurance the race, the
training for which would profit me,
for now and for eternity.

These days, it seems, my track failure
is being redeemed, seeing that, at 40, I’m
running each week at least five days,
training myself to run, in 30 minutes, 5k.

I might have never had the mind for this
had poor nutrition and bad shoes never
intervened. But now, I have the Mind.

It tells me it’s okay to buy Brooks and
that I must eat well if I want to run well.

The Mind tells me to keep running so that I
can at least keep up with a friend and
keep her on her toes,
which keeps me on my toes,
which keeps her on her toes
which keeps me on my toes
It’s become a cycle.

I keep running because
I’ve got the Mind for it now,
and the running gives me a high in
my mind and makes me want to run more
which is the Mind’s natural provision of motivation.

Running is showing me that perseverance and
consistency are indeed possible for me, and that
makes this mother-of-four-different-directions happy,

which keeps me running.