Day Two

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It’s my second day back on the road once more,

Chasing a feeling I can’t ignore.

Is it a new PB? A glory to boast?

Or pictures online with captions and post?

No, not the medals, the likes, or the praise—

Not Amsterdam’s loud, applauding haze.

Though once my drive had all but died,

A quiet truth still lives inside.

I run because it makes me whole,

It clears the static, feeds my soul.

It gives me purpose, carves out peace,

A space where all my doubts can cease.

There’s millions running paths like mine,

Yet when I’m out there, it’s all divine.

Alone, I breathe the morning air,

And thoughts take shape with room to spare.

My steps become a kind of prayer,

A rhythm found most anywhere.

In streets, in trails, or skies turned grey,

My mind finds colour, come what may.

No longer do I need the drink

To cope, escape, or stop to think.

The glass once held my darker days,

But now I’ve found much better ways.

So what’s the goal? It isn’t fame,

It’s not a title, prize, or name.

It’s just to run, through sun or rain,

To move my body, ease my brain.

To run each day, a mile at least,

From city streets to forest feast.

Even on days I want to hide,

I’ll lace and go—I’ll choose that stride.

To live a life that breathes and flows,

Where sweat becomes the rose that grows.

It’s day two now, the start feels true—

A long, bold road, and I’ll break through.

Image Generated by ChatGPT - Day Two