Marathon Man

Our son Caleb ran his
first marathon this morning -
so proud of his run,
and his character.

Training for the marathon began four months ago,
and it paid off. His time was under what he'd hoped for.
Spent and aching, sitting in the shade alone a bit,
convincing calves and thighs that the torture was complete,
they'd done enough and served him well, would
get to rest now, he began to be reacclimated to
the stillness, rhythm of the pounding pavement
gone.  But only minutes passed before he grew
concerned about his friend, the faithful
partner who had trained beside him all this time.
Separated miles before the end, the man should be here
now. He might be hurt, discouraged, something could
be wrong, and so the weary, younger runner rose from
grassy, cool embrace of unmoving ground,
handed off the medal he'd been given just for finishing,
wet cloths that cooled his still-overheated form, and jogged back the other way to find his friend. It seemed a long time,
though it really wasn't, till they came around
the bend and as the finish line came into view the
younger runner stopped so the other could receive
applause and glory all alone. Training for the race
began four months ago, and it paid off.
Training for that moment when he shook off weariness
and trotted back to find his friend began quite long ago.



(c) Ellen Gillette, 2014