February 19, 2011
My breath is heavy, my face is bright red.
My legs are becoming weak and useless,
My hair is now matted to my head,
From all my gross sweating i don't look my best.
The turns seem to grow with each step of mine,
I concentrate on the cracked lane lines.
Blood pumps through my veins, my heart is the source.
When I run my world quickly whizzes by.
Running lets me forget all of my troubles.
My options seem to extend to the sky.
Running around the track my slow pace doubles.
I start to head home, looking for the end of the meet.
Cleansing my mind and body, running is my retreat.

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