I ran until my throat closed up,
cold air came and went,
wrenching and weezing
tears from my eyes desent...

My legs trembling from my strides,
remembering why I stopped,
I breathed my break into the morning,
to stop my eyes from seeing dots...

Its hard enough eating well,
which I'm not very good at either.
Self care is tougher than most things,
but nature is a pretty good teacher...

She reminds me to stay grounded,
on earth I'm forever bound.
No matter where I go,
I'm stepping on Holy ground...

My body is my sanctuary,
unlike me to believe.
I must keep going,
otherwise I will freeze.

The winter shows a greater lesson,
that nature slumbers and rests.
Leaves fall and decay,
and snow will bury their death.

Still the roots sit idly,
waiting for their need,
while the world turns to ice,
there is warmth radiating beneath.

I take one leap forward,
continuing my run.
My legs may sting and burn,
yet still soothed from the heat of the sun.

"You've got this." I chant,
only a few hundred feet more,
Body don't give up on me yet,
end here or there you'll be sore...

Dirty dishes and laundry,
a lost Job and missed texts,
all doesn't matter here now.
My worth isn't all "what's next?"

Your worries and your stress,
don't matter when your dead.
Just do this for you,
and I promise we'll go back to bed!

Self care is one thing,
and tough love is another.
While this river is beautiful,
I run for no other.




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