running in a thunderstorm.

pause for a second. i just want to give myself a pat on the back for posting something other than a list. aka, i'm posting a poem. go me. it'll probably be awful, but that's just fine with me. and the title of this post is not the title of the poem like it normally is if i'm posting a poem. i don't know what the title of the poem is. i suppose you could just say it's untitled. but that's besides the point. here:

There comes a point in time
when you’re running, maybe
a minute in, or maybe
you’ve already been running for ten
miles. When you don’t know,
when you’re not quite sure
if it’s the sweat that’s swimming
down your leg or if there was a sudden
downpour of rain. Or if in the dark,
black sky you’re seeing lightning
take over like a shark takes over a
small lake or if you’re actually
just a second away from blacking
out completely into the asphalt below
your tingling legs. You get so far
and so concentrated on just continuing
that maybe you even forget why you
started running in the first place.
Making your way down a soccer field
to score a goal? Playing tag in your muddy
backyard with the newly adopted puppy—
trying to avoid all the slobber you possibly
can? Running to lose a few extra pounds
from that night you broke down after
he felt like just packing up and leaving?
Or was that an entire week of breaking down?
Or maybe. Maybe you never even knew
why you were running in the first place.
And that actually. Actually, you might
never know until you end up someplace else.