I’ve never been accused of being fast,

I’ve always finished almost last.

But that doesn’t mean I don’t like to run

Those days when I get up with the sun.

 

I may not be getting Olympic gold,

But twenty below, frigid cold

Never stopped me from hitting the road

Even when the air turned white as it snowed.

 

I ran twelve miles with a badly sprained ankle

Although it did quite a bit to rankle

My parents who thought that was too much. 

But I’d rather run fast and then walk with a crutch

As opposed to not running and walking just fine.

If you asked about nightmares, I’d tell you mine

Was waking up with no legs or feet

Not hearing my heart’s thumping beat

As I pound on the pavement through high water and hell.

(Just saying, if you asked, that’s what I’d tell).

 

I’m just not that fast, it’s a real simple fact.

It’s won’t be me that will attract

College scouts and Olympic coaches.

The only real fact is that I run in the dark

when the sky is still black.

I’ve got everything to gain and nothing to loose,

When it’s just me, my thoughts, and my running shoes.