when i was young i started running in an attempt to catch up to my life which was ready to begin somewhere just up ahead. as an adult i kept running because i had it in my head that if i just kept moving i could outrun stupid. then i gave up running for a long time while i worked on building strength from the inside out. now i run because i’m inspired, restless, and because, gosh darn it, i can! and i’m willing to stick with laborious runs while anticipating those easy, strong legs & lungs runs. i might need a new outfit soon though; the running shoes have lost their pumpf.
in other sports, i was desperately worried i had flubbed the juggling and disappointed the kiddies. my daughter was so proud of me for opening my heart & mind at an age where a lot of women just throw in the towel and embrace solitude. but my suitors lost interest and reunited with ex-lovers leaving me to feel like a female-formed bookmark, a mere willie-warmer if you will. it hurt. and i lost my dignity. and i did the math and could only come up with = i must be unlovable. then i started having dreams. sweet dreams. first this one, then that one, and even one from long ago who i played house with once. and i am embraced, and necessary, and nobody wants to leave. a little bit of hopeful sparkly dream essence lingers making me glad i got to play. so glad i got to feel things again. i think that makes me a winner.