Sunday January 6th, 2013

The exercise:

Today we write about: the marathon.

The NHL lockout finally ended this weekend, after several marathon bargaining sessions. A shortened season is set to begin later this month and I'm looking forward to sharing Canucks hockey with my son.

I made my less than triumphant return to the gym this morning, after time away due to the holidays and, more excusably, the flu. Hoping to get back on some sort of regular schedule now that all that is in my rear-view mirror.

Either way, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sore tomorrow.

Because I am already sore right now.


Legs faltering,
Lungs shriveling,
The finish line
Must be retreating.

An extending
Course pretending
That it is not
Actually unending.

That's the sole reason,
Not physical depletion,
That I shall never
Ever reach completion.


Lynn said...

Honored to be the first to respond. Hope you are not overdoing it at the gym. Don't want a relapse of the flu!


The Marathon
The throngs of hopeful runners stood shoulder to shoulder while they waited for the starter’s pistol to go off. The energy in the thousands of people waiting to start the race was electric. Many would start but only a handful would finish. The mob pushed forward down the street lined with buildings whose windows held cheering people, well wishers, prayer senders, hopeful that the winner and the dozen or so that would cross the finish line after him would be the people best suited to lead the country for the next year. The political parties of the past had long ago disappeared as the cost of running a campaign had become prohibitive, so this manner of selecting the person best suited to take the reigns was chosen. There was no age limit, but those too old or too young were easily pushed aside before the race really got going. Others would be knocked out by the government snipers that peppered the tops of the buildings, their pray identified in a random selection by computer and texted to the gunmen as they waited and watched. Slowly as the runners pressed through the city streets and onto the bridge, the numbers began to diminish, and the race became one of who would be the first, the leader for another year.

morganna said...

In honor of a great battle
In honor of the messenger
(He died in carrying the news)
Hordes of men and women push themselves to their limits.

Iron Bess said...

Twelve hours was the duration of my marathon over the last two days. It was freakin awesome! I got to watch all three extended versions of the Lord of the Rings with someone who has read the books as much as me. We chatted all the way through, checked facts on our iPads, ate junk, baked cookies, and had sooooo much fun.

Lord of the Rings marathons are so much better than real marathons in almost every concievable way possible except one. I still have my shirt and medal from the marathon I actually ran. That race was long and arduous, and it taught me a lot about myself. It taught me that I am so much tougher mentally then I am physically. It taught me that I can set a goal and accomplish it. It taught me that sometimes doing something hard, harder, hardest will make you a better person.

Marc said...

Lynn - yeah... overdoing it at the gym is kinda what I do :P

That seems as good a way as any to choose leaders. Sure beats the way we've been doing it here in Canada lately, at any rate.

Morganna - I'm surprised that story hasn't been turned into a movie by now. Or has it and I'm just not aware of it?

Iron Bess - that does sound like a heck of a lot of fun :)

And I like the way you contrasted it with your second paragraph, very effective. That's nicely done.