The last time

We were not prepared for this
for having to grieve a body
that is still alive
but a thief of life.

I do not remember my last run
can’t recall if I made good time
or if it was one of those
never ending
count the cracks of the pavement
the broken backs of all mothers
be it yours or mine,
kind of runs.

I remember the doctor telling me no more
like he was some God I forgot to pray to
did not pile enough at the alter of
gratitude for every stride
now
I drown dried petals in tears
do not recall my last real stride.

We were not prepared for this.

I do not remember the look on my mother’s face
forever remember the words engraved,
“what was that running doing for you anyway?”

It was everything
but you cannot translate everything
это все
in Russian
without also saying,
“that’s it”
все!

We were not prepared for, “that’s it,”
for hang up your jersey
I held onto my track spikes
new
like one day I’d fit back healthy
take em for their first spin
beg to know if it would also be their last
at least I could bury them in song
gather everyone who once saw me strong
we could tell stories,
reminisce
like that one time I ate major shit
three stepped to a hurdle
when I knew it would take me five
almost got spiked in the head
from behind
but finished the race anyway
bandaged up and went again
don’t you remember me then?
I want to remember me then.

We were not prepared for this.

For last season on the mountain
for no official goodbyes
let me kiss every flake of snow
avenue of every ride
for last ride
for last climb
for any of it.

I wonder
if god has a god he can pray to
when every part of him starts to hurt?

it seems that somethings can only be solved through prayer
which means no things
which means nothing

when they tell you to grieve a thing
that still holds your bones inside
how do you show up to your own funeral
how do you explain feeling dead
when everything still indicates alive
but it feels like barely
and barely
feels like you’d rather not be

but you still get to be
and there’s some things you still
get to do
like
I get to walk into the gym still.
Get to put weight on my back still.
The other day I jumped onto a box
and my knees did not scream stop
I have those good days
where I pedal harder than I remember being able to
where I stand up from my chair and don’t consider it a miracle
but for some of us it’s a fucking miracle

waking up without head pain
waking up without migraine
always just waking up
waking up
and hoping this will be one of those good days
where we forget about the bad days
spin circles till the no days
until the last days

until the last days.