Chris and Judson are training for the Chicago Marathon (right?). Ginger and Rick are training for the MDI Marathon (right?). Tom and I are training for the Bay State Marathon (right!) and will be volunteering at the Maine Marathon. It would be great to know what other events (dates and locations)people are training for so we can learn more about them (why did you choose that event?)and offer course (or other) support when possible.

by Elizabeth Coatsworth

Swift things are beautiful:
Swallows and deer
And lightning that falls
Bright-veined and clear,
Rivers and meteors,
Wind in the wheat,
The strong-withered horse,
The runner's sure feet.

And slow things are beautiful:
The closing of day,
The pause of the wave
That curves downward to spray,
The ember that crumbles,
The opening flower,
And the ox that moves on

by A. A. Milne

I've got shoes with grown up laces,
I've got knickers and a pair of braces,
I'm all ready to run some races.
Who's coming out with me?

I've got a nice new pair of braces,
I've got shoes with new brown laces,
I know wonderful paddly places.
Who's coming out with me?

Every morning my new grace is,
"Thank you God, for my nice braces:
I can tie my new brown laces."

by Langston Hughes

In time of silver rain
The earth
Puts forth new life again,
Green grasses grow
And flowers lift their heads,
And over all the plain
The wonder spreads
Of life,
Of life,
Of life!

In time of silver rain
The butterflies
Lift silken wings
To catch a rainbow cry,
And trees put forth
New leaves to sing
In joy beneath the sky
As down the roadway
Passing boys and girls

Tom and I are planning on taking the train (Downeaster 6:20 AM, return at 8:50 PM) from Portland to Boston on Patriot's Day to scream our lungs out for Edenistas fast enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon. A huge accomplishment worthy of much screaming and celebrating. If any Edenites want to join us, we have extra rooms at our house and you may spend the night on Sunday and/or Monday.

Questions:

by Ron Rash

Ours was an easy courage.
Noneof us college prep,
we did time in Crest High's
vocational wing.

learning nothing
that would save us
from trailer parks and mill work,
or even a winding down war.

So we ran against time,
lived for stolen seconds,
finding or measure
brassed in trophy cases.

Tight as the baton,
we gripped our certain knowledge:
that running in circles meant

by Francis Webb

This runner on his final lap
Sucks wildly for elusive air;
Space is a vortex, time's a gap,
Seconds are shells that hiss and flare
Between red mist and cool white day
Four hundred throttling yards away.

Each spike shaped muscle, yelping nerve,
Worries, snaps at his stumbling weight;
He goes wide on his floating curve,
Cursing with crazy hammering hate
A rival glued to inside ground

Runner
by W. H. Auden

All visible visibly
Moving things
Spin or swing,
One of the two,
Move, as the limbs
Of a runner do,
To and fro,
Forward and back,
Or, as they swiftly
Carry him,
In orbit go
Round an endless track:
So, everywhere, every
Creature disporting
Itself according
To the law of its making,
In the rivals' dance
Of a balanced pair,
Or the ring-dance
Round a common centre,

by Langston Hughes

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor-
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps

Sonnet 33
by William Shakespeare

Full many a glorious morning have I seen
Flatter the mountain tops with sovereign eye,
Kissing with golden face the meadows green,
Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy,
Anon, permit the basest clouds to ride
With ugly rack on his celestial face,
And from the forlorn world his visage hide,
Stealing unseen to west with this disgrace:
Even so my sun one early morn did shine

by Emily Dickinson

Feather

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird

by Betsy Sholl

Wharves with their warehouses sagging
on wooden slats, windows steamed up
and beaded with rain--it's a wonder

weather doesn't wash them away. In time,
they seem to say, you'll be gone too,
your belongings left on a quay for the taking . . .

What's there to do, but stroll over cobbled streets,
listing letters you owe, books, food, anything solid--
cement stairs, bike chains, manhole covers,

TUSAY
Good news: I got a new job that I'm very excited about and all that that entails like health insurance, pay check every 2 weeks
Bad news: Honey the Wonder Dog will be home alone, can't run in the middle of the day on a whim, can't stroll about my work place with frozen vegetables duct taped to my ankles.

by Mary Oliver

When for too long I don't go deep enough
into the woods to see them, they begin to
enter my dreams. Yes, there they are, in the
pinewoods of my inner life. I want to live a life
full of modesty and praise. Each hoof of each
animal makes the sign of a heart as it touches
then lifts away from the ground. Unless you
believe that heaven is very near, how will you
find it? Their eyes are pools in which one