Respect to the runners who are neither slim nor speedy

Respect to the runners who are neither slim nor speedy

who worry what others think
who are embarrassed by their bodies
or their speed,

yet run regardless, finding joy and freedom along the path.

Respect to the runners who know

that finishing last beats not finishing at all,
but a Did Not Finish trumps not even starting

Every.
Single.
Time.

Respect to the runners who run through grief and loss 

of identity
of loved ones
of missed opportunities and unspoken dreams

who lose themselves in running, and discover themselves there, too.

Respect to the runners whose bodies jiggle

and wobble
and leak
and hurt

yet they show up and train
and find a path through the pain,
which leads to self-belief.

Respect to the first-time parkrunner, who knows no-one

who will take over an hour to finish
who walks more than runs
whose body feels so unlike their own

whose clothes are loose (to hide the belly and boobs)

who wants the Earth to open up and swallow them whole, yet visibly

Keeps.
Moving.
Forward. 

Then shows up again next week.

Respect to the runners who don’t have the 
right clothes
right shoes
right watch
right language
right form
right body
right pace
right distance

yet participate, care-free and joyously, anyway.

I see you.

I salute you.

Welcome to the club.

x