The weight of it all caught up with me today.
Running just wasn’t happening,
Legs, lungs, lethargy all working together
To prevent anything meaningful.

The social stuff, the pandemic stuff, the school stuff
A confluence of life’s issues making the day tough,
One where I felt like not doing anything,
Just sitting watching sports like I should on a Sunday.

But that wasn’t possible, I was left with news,
Something I needed to escape from, the talking heads
Having told me all about the houses burning down
And the lack of awareness by that guy acting as President.

So I ran, passing a gaggle of geese less than half a mile
From home, and that’s when the weight took over.
This route, one I’ve run hundreds of times, owned me,
A few seconds of running, a few minutes of walking.

I got my time in, took a chance with a restricted area,
And made it home for dinner.
The Fugitive was on, so I recited the lines for kicks,
Avoiding anything connected with reality.

Tomorrow will come soon, I’ll have to decide,
Rest or continue pushing my limits,
One thing, though, I’m avoiding life,
Sad, but I am worn out. Maybe I should stay in.

Sacred idols bought at dime-store prices
Mean just as much
As the ones found on a mountain or
Buried in the sand.
Eons do not make meaning,
Guts do,
Reflection does.
Power to change, to be inspired,
To get on with life in a positive way
Rests within,
The external symbols bringing little to our games
Unless a mountain was climbed or
Sands were traversed
To understand their meaning.

Get going.

How about it?

What makes a class
Work so hard
And another
Piss the time away
What makes some kids
Willing to push through boredom
And others
Become drooling zombies

Today I saw the brighter side
Three classes so in tune
With the energy of the lesson
That I barely had to do anything
Except stand there and appreciate
How hard they were working


May the rabbit come
Out of the hat
Again tomorrow.

Finding that most uncomfortable spot
Where the tension of
Power and instability convene
To make for the perfect deadlift
Is one of the happier
Pains of life

That moment just before the agonizing pull
When all of the slack has left
The bar, back, arms, and
Leaving only certainty across the whole system
That this weight was made for lifting
Is one of the happier
Illusions in life

The instant will defies gravity
The pushing, the pulling
The tensile tenacity of muscles straining
When thoughts are squeezed beyond consciousness
Bringing effort to the pulpit
Allowing enlightenment to shout out aggressively
The peace of a successful lift

Ah, deadlifting…

Insensitivity is leaving
Graduating is more like it
To the next phase
Where insolence is tolerated less
And to get something
One must do more
Than show up
Or play an emerging sport

Let the banners fly high
For future development
At the next level
And let their motors run
Like Potential has always suggested
For all is possible

[If you expect more from yourselves]

Too tired to grab my camera
Because I’ve been pushing snow around
For a couple of days
And lounging on the couch
The rest of the time
The couch took more away from me
Than the shovel
Because the mindlessness of the recline
Just got to be too much
With the shovel
At least
I was purposeful
Moving the mounds around the driveway
Clearing a space for the dog
To drop
Just being mindful of the task
Seeing the results of efforts
Everything work could be
If I produced anything in my job
I love moving the snow
Fluffy or heavy
I love the sound of my breath
Or the patter of sleet on my coat
The bending of knees
The tossing of a load
Because it’s something
Stepping back and seeing the driveway black
Contrasting against the transplanted mountain white
The monochrome leaving no gray
Where work is concerned
I’m not reliant on feedback from apathetic teens
Parents too long removed from adolescence
To remember those years
Or higher ups that pick random metrics to measure success
As if grades or scores really determine
Our lot in life
I prefer the skills of hard work
Where at the end of the day I can account
For what I’ve done