A Runner's High Poem               [Part 1 of My Sports Trilogy]


An original poem by Chrome Dome Mike Kimbro


Please read along to my Spoken Verse Performance.



I have found that a runner's high was most easily achieved while running on a dirt road along a canal in Phoenix, Arizona, in the Valley of the Sun.



I'm a distance runner.


Use my muscular quads,


To elevate my knees skyward.


All my workouts are funner,


Soaring high with the gods.


Yeah, the feeling's far from wired,


When I'm on a runner's high.





But there's an answer I seek:


Where am I supposed to land,


On the heel or further forward?


Please tell me which technique,


Improves the feeling so grand,


Because I feel kind of tortured,


When I don't hit a runner's high.





But when it comes to running form,


I hear many calls to conform.


But I'll keep on embracing the norm,


Until I find a better runners high.


Image Credit: Tattoo artist extraordinaire Ashley Dawn        

If it gets me there the fastest,


Makes my ecstasy the strongest,


And keeps me there the longest,


I'll tell my heal striking ways: "Bye, bye."



I'd gladly do my workouts in goose step,


With a tattoo of Liberache on my bicep,


Not giving a care as to the impact on my rep,


If it delivered a better runners high.





New shoes were bought with interesting devices.


From U4ic midsoles to foams made of plastic,


And 3D overlays and even zero drop.


Given the pounding they take, I don't mind the prices.


And while some might consider this approach drastic,


The monthly sport shoe store visits will never stop,


Until I find a better runner's high.


That's Piestewa Peak, formerly Squaw Peak, there in the background of this pic taken in Phoenix, Arizona.




I maintain that, as God is my witness,


While a marathon is my longest run,


A daily hour jog I need direly.


But some say that, if running for fitness,


Thirty minutes is all you need to "get 'er done".


Anything more is for something else entirely.


Like say maybe a runner's high.



Part of the canal system in the Valley of the Sun, possibly run by the Salt River project.



If you think I'm spending hours,


Like a mouse in a metal wheel,


Just to stay in primo shape.


You underestimate the power,


Of the addiction which I feel,


From it's grasp there is no escape.


Yep, I need that runner's high.



The End



Copyright Michael Kimbro 2017.  All rights reserved.



Keywords:  Poems about running, Distance running poetry, Poems about running shoes, Proper running form theory.