Days of Running are Getting Fewer with Each Passing Day (April 2010)
Muddy Trails Bash 5k — Photos by Joy
My running has become walking 5k each day. Trying hard to hang on to what I still have.
My current goal is to not become one of the stumbling undead.
By the way, there are some things that do change for the better —
I no longer wear white crew socks.
— kenne
This poem was written by a 19-year-old English army officer, Charles Hamilton Sorley, during World War I.
The Song of the Ungirt Runners
We swing ungirded hips
And lighten’d are our eyes,
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
We know not whom we trust
Nor whitherward we fare,
But we run because we must
Through the great wide air.
The waters of the seas
Are troubled as by storm.
The tempest strips the trees
And does not leave them warm.
Does the tearing tempest pause?
Do the tree-tops ask it why?
So we run without a cause
’Neath the big bare sky.
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
But the storm the water whips
And the wave howls to the skies.
The winds arise and strike it
And scatter it like sand,
And we run because we like it
Through the broad bright land.
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