The Zone

Some running poetry. Something I wrote a couple of years ago.


The Zone
by Jerry "Geronimo" Nairn

It could be anywhere.
Any piece of pavement
running in the midst of normal people passing
oblivious in cars
Any remote trail
dirt collecting in the sweaty creases of my skin
Any night in a park
dodging through tree trunks, ducking branches, dimly remembering
things ancient ancestors did
I've never done.

I can only ever get there after several stubborn miles
miles going nowhere
until something brings me out
Maybe someone passes
or I glance at my watch
or I'm struck by a desire
to just finish this run

A step quicker
suddenly I'm there

The legs move without effort
My friend momentum follows
flows
one footstep to the next
until footsteps blur
striding so easy there are no strides
only moving
only flowing
I am running but it's not running
which now moves me
my feet play on the ground
as the earth passes under me
effortless
breath flows in and out
on its own
it isn't running now that moves me
like swimming downstream
in a deep, fast river
and becoming water
it isn't running now that moves me
It's the world I set in motion
running miles ago
days ago
years ago
and all the rushing air, all the rolling earth,
all the flowing body
asks in return
to run like this forever
is to never stop





Photos by Steve Craft