What is it about
running in the cold
That is so wonderfulI mean really cold
Twenty five below zero cold.
Is it dressing head to toe in wool
Wearing the sweater that
Makes me flashy hot indoors and
Here feels cozy and smart
Is it the childish pretend of artic exploring
Feeling the wind bite the small sliver of face left naked
Joyfully watching the wind whip snow over ice
Perhaps it’s the Icelandic blood
Genetic belonging to the ice and snow
Hating the heat and sun of summer
Perhaps the wind swept solitude of the deserted street
No other runner in the dark and cold
Physical and raw and real
The wind at my back carries me down the street
Around the corner against the wind
I fight to keep my head up
Determined to persevere and finish
An escape from warmth and ease
Adversity and struggle
Testing resolve and courage
Against the raw strength of winter
With wise preparation triumphant
A metaphor of life
Lived in just thirty minutes
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