The perfect day, my spirits high,
For a race beneath an overcast sky,
Thirteen miles to a half marathon,
I’m halfway there, somewhere near mile seven.

Found my stride about mile three,
Now chasing the pacer, after stopping to pee,
Feeling good and running with intention,
Comfortable in my stride, somewhere near mile seven.

I smiled and spoke, the only time
To an elder couple as I passed them by,
He nods and she waves, with a warmth softly given,
Somewhere near mile seven.

How I wished they were you, Mom and Dad,
Cheering me on like you always had,
Displaying your pride, an encouraging token,
Somewhere near mile seven.

I can hear your laughter, to nature’s delight,
Your steadfast love always made things right,
Like waves on the shoreline, your presence unbroken,
Somewhere near mile seven.

It’s mile eleven, each breath is a chore,
My legs feel like anchors grinding the floor,
I miss the rhythm I had back then,
Somewhere near mile seven.

The finish line’s ahead, I can see the end,
Each step brings me closer, my will does not bend,
The crowd’s energy, as I had imagined back then,
Somewhere near mile seven.