It's 7 a.m. and drizzling
The Willamette Valley's
late winter chill
I am not a runner.
but here I am, starting
the incline
2,064 feet up, up, up,
it's Sunday and
The butte is my church
Celebrating the running god
I am not a runner.
and
my shirt is soaked
with sweat
and I'm only a mile in and my
faith
is in question:
where my mind is reminding me that
maybe I can't do it
and I know that I have flaws
where instead of praying, I'm thinking
**** **** **** **** ****
During the ascent to the
Running god,
I'm not a runner.
When I wonder if I'm devout enough
strong enough
dedicated enough and
good enough,
when I'm
constantly tempted
by the allure of the downhill,
the seductive persuasion of the
descent
I am not a runner
and the butte is my
Church.