The First Run of the YearIt has been months, and just as I plannedThe holiday fat and winter sloth demand The sun's warmth invites, and the roads they implore So I pull on my shoes and head out the door And so I am off, on my first run of the year The air is crisper, and every step is a hill My breath gets short, my stride shorter still I race the sun home, and see just beyond The geese standing idly beside their frozen pond Yet I press on with my first run of the year The final hill is unyielding, each step is a climb Still I reach the end in rather good time I hurdle over ice, as my breath forms a cloud My lungs burn from the chill, and so I say aloud Perhaps it's too soon for my first run of the year Steve |