Lotsa

This day,
One where singularity
Fell to Murphy’s Law
When on LSD, a long, slow run,
And totally channeling my carnivore cravings,
I locked in on the thought of a burger
To pass the hours on the repurposed train bed.

Unfortunately,
A broiler was broken leaving only the King’s chicken,
I’d much rather have had a three-cheese sandwich at that point,
But since there was no option for that,
I went ahead and ordered the fried bird my way
Only to get it
Their standard way.

Oh well.

It’s been cool this week,
The focus being taut, stretched across so many thoughts
Retirement, too far away…
Rising Juniors, unfortunately unfunded…
Running, each step another in an awesome journey.
Keeping my mind focused has seen a casualty or two,
Crossword puzzles, journaling, anger. Each I’m okay letting go of.

There was a discussion about needles moving for aging men,
My friend claiming his youthful age was starting to accept stagnation
Something I could never think would happen,
For to think things like that cannot happen again
Is to accept the beginning of the end
Acceptance of decline,
Quitting.

No way, man.

I can’t allow my mind to go there,
Never, sometimes, always maybe and ready,
The idea of being prepared is appealing
To a guy who is up for a run,
Down with a swim, or cool riding a bike,
Distance, time, whatever, it all feels good
Because to be in the race is the place to be.

So bring all challenges,
Turtles in the road,
Ship’s ladder climbs,
Humid half-marathons,
Unwanted fast-food chicken,
Dreams of emptying the tank, and
Whatever else life can bring.

Age loses here, Chief.

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