An Opus for Opie

Before I met Matt Baldi, I met his sneakers - red, Converse “Chuck Taylors”, size 14. I had forgotten mine at home and desperately needed a pair for my freshman high school gym class. Another friend of mine had recommended that I borrow Matt’s since our feet were similar in size, or so he thought. I grabbed them from his open locker and quickly put them on only to discover they were about four sizes too big! Needless to say, gym class that day was a bit more interesting while wearing Matt’s “clown” shoes.

Status Report

Not a whole lot of running going on at the moment. It's been a little over a month since the hamstring incident and the only thing that's kept me from completely losing it is that I've been able to ride my bike. First with my mountain bike and now with my road bike I've been doing about 20 miles per day (in the rain) with a longer ride to come this weekend. It's not the same as running, but at least it gives me something to do (besides PT) while I wait for my injury to heal. Unfortunately, in the meantime, I am missing out on some of my favorite summertime running events: GCS Outdoor Track, The Pineland Farms 25k, and The Mount Greylock Half Marathon. Plus, I was hoping to finally have a go at the Hollis Fast 5k. Alas, twas not meant to be ...

Hopefully I'll be able to get back to running regularly sometime in June and maybe try a race in July or August. I really miss being part of the TEAM. Right now,  I just feel like one of the "invisible" injured.

Krummholz

Up in the mountains above the great north wood
There grows a tree where nothing else could
In a place where only the strong survive
This twisted wood has learned to thrive

Growing up close in groups of kin
They protect each other from the wind
Working as one against the cold
These trees can live to centuries old

Molded and shaped by ice and snow
That controls the pace they’re allowed to grow
Rebellious branches that go too high
Are quickly frozen and exposed to die

The bitter wind it is forced to fight
Is the cause of its irksome plight
Their seed is brought by the breeze below
Where its larger cousins are free to grow

From along the trail their look is rough
But a hikers friend when things get tough
They form a shelter in the wind
A place to rest and begin again

God bless the krummolz this alpine tree
A model of living for all to see
Its life may be hard from death to birth
But its view is unlike any other on earth

- Dedicated to my Mom who has been my shelter in the wind on more than a few occasions. Love ya' Mom!

If you liked this poem, I have a few more here.