Rain Run

“I’m gritty,” I think.
It makes me laugh out loud
because it sounds boastful, but
I mean it literally -
my calves and the back of my shorts
are speckled with silt and other bike path debris.

If I listen closely,
I can hear each little splat
as my feet slap the wet asphalt.
My breathing is steady and calm.
The effort is honest, my cadence is quick,
but I’m at home in this moment,
in this body.

Then the rain picks up again,
and soon my hat, clothes, and shoes are drenched.
My feet now say squish, squiiish
and I notice a nagging imbalance -
one foot spending a little extra time on the ground.
I scan my body, from my shoulders down my spine
all the way to my toes.
I make tiny adjustments to my landing
squish, squiish
remind my hamstring to engage
squish, squish
Nature is helping me improve.

My slight open-mouthed grin
becomes a broad smile.
I’m connected, to myself, to everything.
I am in tune with my body,
which is in tune with the earth;
we’re both soaked -
rinsed, refreshed.

 
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Kudos
 
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Kudos

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