Archive for the ‘Running’ Tag

After A Morning Run With Shorts In Hands   Leave a comment

After a Morning Run In The Woodlands, Texas With Shorts In Hands (05/21/09) — Image by joy

“Running releases more than just sweat.” 

— Anonymous

Once A Runner, Always A Runner   5 comments

Sprimt for LifeSprint for Life, May 2010 — Photo-Artistry by kenne

The last time I ran in Houston’s MD Anderson Cancer Center “Sprint for Life” fundraiser was May 2014. I ran the 5k in 30 minutes, coming third in the over 70 age group. For now, I have given up running, replacing it with walking and hiking. Whether I start running again or not, running will always be in my blood. 

In case you are wondering, in the May 2010 run pictured above, I was 3rd in the 65-70 age group. Also, I no longer wear white crew socks!

— kenne

“Run when you can, walk if you have to, crawl if you must; just never give up.”

— Dean Karnazes

Days of Running are Getting Fewer   Leave a comment

Muddy Trails BashDays of Running are Getting Fewer with Each Passing Day (April 2010)  

Muddy Trails BashMuddy 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.