Why I Run

One night, my mom told me
“If you’re going to keep
running, why not do a race?”
With no retort, I signed up for a 5K
and came in third place.

It started long ago.
A kid, tired of sleepless nights
and tired of looking in the mirror,
decided to create his own inner-might
and uncovered a dormant furor.

At first the miles dragged on
and his successes proved few.
Yet, as he struggled to center himself,
the soreness gave his thoughts a different hue.
He took another breath
and carried on.

As friends’ faces faded
and his mind grew jaded,
running became a constant.
An anchor in a sea of answers
non-existent.

After four years of breath and sweat,
two injuries and countless cramps,
three worn-out pairs of treads,
and hours chasing champs,
I run still.

When the doubts start to infiltrate,
when the anxieties at the edges slink in,
I follow the most natural instinct:
I run,
heart, mind, and limbs working as one.

Now another year breaks over the horizon.
Do not let the unknown rule over us:
gather your courage and forward, rush!
Charge into the rising sun.

Yeah, you could run with me
if you wanted to
One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.