Poetry of Running

Last Sunday I posted the video from my daughter’s band competition at state. Two days earlier, my son ran at the cross country regional meet and had his best day.

He wouldn’t like this poem. He’s already working to beat his time.


Sixty-four degrees and the wind

is shifting north when you

take off in your flame-colored

shoes. I follow you from checkpoint

to checkpoint around the course

my teeth grinding my hand slapping

my thigh urging you on ever faster,

while I forget what you said last

night, set aside the things you’ll

never forgive me for, simply cheer

for these 17 minutes and 44 seconds

in which everything is right.


  1. Forgiveness will come, even forgetting. Give it time, lots of time. And maybe some space, too. Cross-country is grueling and I have nothing but admiration for anyone who even attempts it. If I were there I woud be shadowing you around those checkpoints, cheering your boy on. . . and cheering you on, as well.

  2. this breaks my heart…
    not that this means anything to anyone.
    i guess what i’m trying to say
    is that i can really feel it.

  3. I know, from this elderly vantage point, that grace slowly but surely fills in those places where forgiveness seemed a hopeless cause. This is so touching Megan. I do love your poetry (I think I may have mentioned that a time or two!)

  4. You are amazing.

  5. Simply cheer, yes. This is what he will remember.

  6. Love how you set things aside to enjoy his race.