At 4:45 this morning,
Kashmir came on.
It was too dark to be bothered,
So I cranked up the volume,
Leaned back from the steering wheel
And absorbed the heated seat’s warm-up efforts
While the music did its best to wake my tired soul.

Outside, the threats of rain
Sought to sully my workout interest,
Mother Nature could not have known
How I had already cut her out of my morning equation.
Zeppelin had sealed her fate
As I would do battle with the early morning fitness foes
On my terms, not hers.

She cried, letting loose with a torrent,
While I laughed dripping sweat on a rubber floor.
Aching hamstrings and a doubting spirit
Were not to be coddled as the lyric,
“Let me take you there,” kept the swing in my hips
And a swerve in my groove
That took me through to the end.

After coffee and a post workout conversation,
I walked out of the gym and into a cool rain.
With liquid contentment, I loped through the puddles without care.
Back in the truck, wet from sweat and rain,
I turned the key, a random song came on,
But it couldn’t move the needle the way Kashmir had.
The wipers swiped. The day went on.

Drizzle,
Putting it to my commitment,
Shoved aside,
As positive peer pressure
Proved it’s worth
For a ten spot.

Darkness,
Having dominion over me,
Sent worn legs napping
As a recovery began
Following a hilly run.

Springsteen,
Monopolizing my creative soul,
His stories, his lyrics,
Just his effing energy
Making me think differently
About how I became me.

Hoops, burgers with tots,
Boring ass football, and
Some Irish spiritual hydration
Are putting this long day
Back into a fuzzy haze similar
To the drizzle that challenged me earlier.

Thank goodness I accepted…