They said I couldn't run

I often share my own writing with my students. Sometimes they get a bit bored. Maybe it’s because I’ve written over their heads. Maybe it’s because sometimes my writing is just plain crap. Sometimes though, they like my writing. 

They loved my blog posts about my cat Zach, even though I thought I should have edited a ton more. They liked my posts on running the 2002 New York Marathon, though I was kind of long-winded with those too. 

Yesterday, as part of a poetry study, I read them one of my poems. I wrote it many years ago, when I first got back into running.  Here is something interesting: At the same time I got back into running, I got back into writing. For me, writing and running go together. One of these days, I’ll have to write about why. 

This particular poem was published years ago on a marathon poetry website. I didn’t win a contest or anything. A friend who runs marathons had created the site, and kindly put it on for me. 

Since appearing on that site, my poem has been copied and used by other people, but always credited to me, thank goodness.  Every now and then, I google the poem, to see what kind of a life it’s living and to remind myself that my words matter, and that I matter too. 

Once, I found my poem on the website of the Texas branch of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Team in Training program. I’ve found my poem on other runners’ blogs. Yesterday, I found the poem in a beginner triathlon training forum.  

Here’s the poem.  It’s about running. But it’s about a ton of unsaid things too, at least to me.

They said I couldn’t run

By Maureen Mullins

They said I couldn’t run.

So I ran at night in dreams,

And chased myself all day.

At least that’s how it seems.

They said I couldn’t run,

But I knew that they were wrong.

I worked and slept, control I kept,

And I seemed pretty strong.

‘Til one day they said I couldn’t run,

I realized they were right.

And so I stopped and took a look,

Then thought with all my might.

And realized some running wasn’t all

it was cracked up to be.

Because instead of running toward a goal,

I was running far from me.

So I got me some new sneakers

And I laced them up real tight.

Threw on my pants, my shirt, my hat,

And stepped into the night.

Where dreams are always waiting

For strong hearts to set them free,

unshackle fears, stoke raging fires,

banked down repeatedly.

They say, “Look at her run” now.

Mile by mile I make my way.

I’m getting back to being me.

Right here. Right now. Today.