The park was never as dark as this morning,
One truck was already there,
No one was inside,
It weirded me out.

The back of the truck was loaded with weights,
Waiting to fulfill their duty
Of being picked up and put down
By an apprehensive and slightly nutty band of runners.

As the sun rose,
The bars began to stir,
The planning came together,
The group chipped away.

There was music,
There was laughter,
There were geese,
There was a good time.

In the end, there was also enlightenment,
Okay, more of a realization,
Twenty-thousand is just a number,
Will and support, that’s how we are.

Cranking out repetitions,
Churning out the miles,
All because we know we can,
All in the presence slightly nutty friends.

So, the creek didn’t rise,
Cottonmouth didn’t stop a workout,
No “doubtful” messages from the 8-ball,
Just an honest probing of us…success all around.

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