I escape from the park
Leaving babe behind
With my Venezuelan secretary
Who is not only an incredible poet
But an incredible person
Who took pity on me
And my first world problem.
Mile 1 is smooth
Zigging and Zagging out of
The Broken sidewalks
I try to make a mental map
In my mind of what my 11 mile route
Will look like.
Mile 2 takes me into
Acassuso, next to Pablo's
School, where I never go
With tempting pastries
Lined in the windows of Confiterias
Colorful and sending
Dares to come in.
Mile 3 is when I start to
Enjoy what I am doing
The air is crisp
It might just be the first real day of Southern
Hemisphere autumn
Which means blissful running weather
Mile 4 takes me by a familiar route
But normally I am a passenger
It's funny how you know where you are
But you still have to pay attention
Because you never know what's going
To come out of Buenos Aires sidewalks or
Corners
Mile 5 and 6 are fun ones.
I buy a bottle of pomelo Gatorade which
Makes it even better. Still,
The sidewalk has no become a jagged trail.
My only fear is my clumsiness
Which would send me tumbling into a
Lane of traffic
Food for the bus and fastly zipping cars.
Mile 7 takes me back to civilization
Alongside the Hippodrome
I catch up with the runners who
Aren't training for races Or
Stick it safe with city built running loops.
Mile 8 is when I start to drag.
I stop to stretch and then continue.
Luckily I cross the train tracks and
The weight seems temporarily removed
From my shoes which had suddenly felt
Like bricks were in them.
Mile 9 along Libertador.
Another stretch.
Not so much longer I tell myself.
You have as much time as you need.
Mile 10 the slowest one yet.
And another stretch
And another stretch
Mile 11 down.
A cool down walk in La Lucila.
Strava off/ mission accomplished.
Next week's 13 miles are going to be rough.
Leaving babe behind
With my Venezuelan secretary
Who is not only an incredible poet
But an incredible person
Who took pity on me
And my first world problem.
Mile 1 is smooth
Zigging and Zagging out of
The Broken sidewalks
I try to make a mental map
In my mind of what my 11 mile route
Will look like.
Mile 2 takes me into
Acassuso, next to Pablo's
School, where I never go
With tempting pastries
Lined in the windows of Confiterias
Colorful and sending
Dares to come in.
Mile 3 is when I start to
Enjoy what I am doing
The air is crisp
It might just be the first real day of Southern
Hemisphere autumn
Which means blissful running weather
Mile 4 takes me by a familiar route
But normally I am a passenger
It's funny how you know where you are
But you still have to pay attention
Because you never know what's going
To come out of Buenos Aires sidewalks or
Corners
Mile 5 and 6 are fun ones.
I buy a bottle of pomelo Gatorade which
Makes it even better. Still,
The sidewalk has no become a jagged trail.
My only fear is my clumsiness
Which would send me tumbling into a
Lane of traffic
Food for the bus and fastly zipping cars.
Mile 7 takes me back to civilization
Alongside the Hippodrome
I catch up with the runners who
Aren't training for races Or
Stick it safe with city built running loops.
Mile 8 is when I start to drag.
I stop to stretch and then continue.
Luckily I cross the train tracks and
The weight seems temporarily removed
From my shoes which had suddenly felt
Like bricks were in them.
Mile 9 along Libertador.
Another stretch.
Not so much longer I tell myself.
You have as much time as you need.
Mile 10 the slowest one yet.
And another stretch
And another stretch
Mile 11 down.
A cool down walk in La Lucila.
Strava off/ mission accomplished.
Next week's 13 miles are going to be rough.
This line, "Food for the bus and fastly zipping cars." unfortunately was accompanied by the movie in my mind playing out your demise. Yikes! Your half next week might not be pretty, but you'll make it.
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