Running Poetry XXII

I still remember the pain. It was a pain that won’t let me run anymore. Walking was ok. I somehow got by with plenty of rest. It rears its ugly head from time to time.

Exhaustion is equal to
An hour of injured running
Plus only five hours of sleep
Plus four more of singing

I thought I had missed
Seven minutes per KM
Had excuse ready

Near perfect pacing
Need to raise mileage next
Ignore injury

I have succumbed to
Pancakes and hot chocolate
Should have kept going

Had to walk again
Still within target pace though
So it is all good

Fourteen days to go
No time to sit on my hands
Must keep mileage up

The overpowering dread
Only pain remains

Stubborn as a rock
Running at boulder pace
Sleep like a stone…NOW!

Unusual route
Hills and runners aplenty
I forgot to walk

The water hates me
Graceless, I sank like a rock
Sad slow journey home


Running Poetry XV

How time flies.. These old poems from 27-year old me are amazing! It’s a wonder how I can keep describing pain and endurance after every single run. My fear is that I will eventually run out of words to say about these topics. Only time will tell.

Dusk before Christmas
Danger assailed the senses
I’m saved by His grace

This oblivion
A self-imposed food coma
No Elysium
Foreshadowing a trauma

I felt it tugging
Towards a dark eerie place
It’s chill beckoning

Started new year right
Went to church, updated blog
Met a girl and ran

I knew pain again
Never thought I’d forgotten
The mem’ry tastes..sweet

Need a miracle
Botched training and kept saying
Please don’t get injured

Running while I’m aching
Singing while I’m coughing
This ceaseless suffering
Needs an abrupt ending

Pain wracked the vacuum
As mettle filled its absence
Resolve is renewed

3rd since the thirteenth
Was I this headstrong?

There was dissonance
And I failed at remembrance
Shaky and craven
All my thoughts longed for haven
Until the embers
Sparked an undaunted temper

Running Poetry XII

I am currently battling a host of ailments. The marathon last week really did a number on my immune system. Moreover, the Sinulog merriment did not help. I would never trade both experiences for a few weeks of health though. Maybe I am masochistic after all. My obsession with running is a very strong indicator of that. Here are a few more poems to prove my point.

I am without words
For these runs get me on the verge
Of the utmost high
Yet still hankering for the sky

I jog, he ran
I jog, she walked
Strayed from the plan
Numbed from the talk

Early rising moon
Staring at the unfolding
Failure of a run

I am on the mend
From my weakened legs and side
To my aching heart

The man called in awe
To which, he replied simply
“Just sweating it out.”

My life absent drive
Grudgingly paid a steep fine
Fiction was cheaper

A star’s fearless gleam
Fought biting wind and cruel clouds
Alone in the end

Concealed in layers
The agony found a way
Through hushed surrender

You expect its arrival
But bracing yourself will not matter
Neither fiery denial
Nor boldness will stand once the scenes blur

Slow and steadily
Building up speed until I
Slingshot through the crowd

Running Poetry X

Solo runs or group runs? I’m always on the fence with this question. Almost all of my profound running experiences have happened during my solo runs. However, group runs are undeniably more enjoyable. The poems below illustrate my point and frustration.

First group interval
First belly laugh while running
First barefooted sprint

One equals a hundred
Forgive my crazy math
But times are filled with dread
And ’tis the prudent path

Ignored filling the black hole
This yawning tear in my soul
Gaining mass yet never satisfied
Pain, past and present, is magnified

Caught in a quicksand
Each kilometer has me
Hastening my fall

Felt a tiny spark
My spirit became kindling
Then I’m set ablaze

Space folds before me
Time is absent then present
The sun skips ahead

Let your feet take you
Away from pain, doubt, and fear
Enjoy the moment

This bored fantasy
Has got me shooting myself
Every seventh lap

The crescent moon froze
This chill demanded layers
The count glaciates

His manliness stoked
Twin daggers dug at his side
The man kept running

Running Poetry IX

The runner’s high and unrequited love conspired to light a fire at the end of my pen. How I envy the me from back then. Surely, the me from back then would envy me of now as well should two points in time meet. For now, I’ll just savor these sweet words from my bygone days.

This unending loop
Of relentless despondence
I will escape this

Clumsy and crooked
The driven newbie sprinted
An inspiring sight

Pain fell away and I just
Felt ordinary

My focus swam in quicksand
Then I drown in waves of lethargy
But all these I will withstand
To achieve falling trajectory

The lure of controlled falling
Made overpowering in their presence
All my restraint collapsing
Falling without fear of consequence

The hard fought freedom from pride
Quickly retrogressed into boredom
Falling oversimplified
Stared at the sky to crush the doldrums

Weather turned ambivalent
Begot errors in judgement
To satisfy sentiments
The truth became evident
I am an unrepentant
Sucker for discontentment

Do I fall to exhaustion?
Do I break from starvation?
The miles carved away at the answers
And all that is left is crashing thunder

They started with sweet whispers
Then promised undisguised threats
Courage became mere slivers
Yet enough for an upset

Proper arm swing
Corporate douchebags
The Plank

Running Poetry VIII

By the time I wrote these poems, I had grown my circle of friends at the track. Week after week, I had invited people to join me. I was rarely successful but I took heart at the fact that I at least had a good impact on the people who did answer my invitation. In some ways, my friends have influenced me as well. A marathon finish found its way into my dreams.

I did not go unscathed
As I tested my limits
My hand clenching my side
As I limped to the exit

I took to the road
After the tedious grind
With pain as reward
Another lesson to mind

Worry weighed me down
My lips formed a sweaty frown
A trespassing rock!
Must remember to wear socks
It took them a while
They tagged along for a mile
One great meal with friends
Begins and hastens the mend

How much farther could I have gone?
How much longer could I have gone?
Without the pleasure of their company
Thank you my wonderful jogging buddies

No watch, no warm-up
The gold moon was distracting
Forgot my socks too

Lethargic and sleepy-eyed
Challenged and wakened
Endangered, hungry, and filled

Nowhere near my best
I plod at my leisure – OW!
Stop poking me Jane!

Two learned men and
A 42k problem
Seven weeks to go

Sweat obscured vision
And disembodied voices
Annoyed my shadow

Near my breaking point
Lightning flashed forebodingly
Cringed with each step til
The end came mercifully

Running Poetry I

I have this weird habit of writing a few poetic verses after every run. The topics are usually running related but my mind does tend to wander during long(ish) runs so I included all sorts of subjects. Furthermore, some of my runs proved quite eventful hence the changes in length and style. I know you’re probably bored with this pointless introduction so here are the poems. Enjoy.

No preamble
No rain
Only white
And the pervading gray

The reaper sneers
The reaper smiles
An ally appears
I welcome the miles

Forgot the pace
Recalled the pain
Escaped the haze
My fears restrained

Time pressure
Peer pressure
Abdominal pressure
Directional pressure

Golden moon shone down
Lording over dark rain clouds
The track turned lonesome

Held the chain
Through the pain
Stopped at red
Lost instead

Breathless at the third
Nineteenth made us stop at red
Man, that bat was huge

Two cousins
Twelve laps
Some heavy breathing
And a bit of gab

What a mess
I digressed
Then ran less
So I egressed

Fear itself
Came bearing limits
Though agony cut short
Its damning visit