for myself as a young runner by Katherine Charters
Mile 1
The thrill of making an impression.
The first race you won at twelve
wearing a skirt, brushing past
the boys. You can’t run for them,
only from them, when they grab
for you on midday roads.
Mile 5
You will soon know how it feels to escape
through emptiness until your hair falls out.
What is a muscle but a hungry heart?
Graham crackers at midnight
without anyone to call.
Mile 13
Trust your coaches don’t know
what a female body is capable of. Exceed
well past the year they set for you to fail.
Someday you will look back and see bones
it will scare you. Why did it not scare anyone else?
Mile 19
Someday you will track beats over pounds.
Stop that too - stop counting
the seconds between each breath and
wondering how to succeed. Listen -
the crowd calls for women. Splitting the seam
of rotten fruit, push through presumption of loss.
Mile 23
Explore the deepest parts of the pain
cave with a paintbrush - each step flames
agony outrunning the despair of his name.
You trained for deprivation and still hunger.
Swear to the sky you can go faster.
Mile 26
Go past each peak into blue, thrumming
tunnel vision of a victorious view. Finish
and cry. You never thought your body
could withstand such trauma and survive.
Katherine Charters Bio: Raised in Seattle, Katherine Charters studied poetry at Gonzaga University. Previous poems appeared in WA 129+2 digital chapbook and Gonzaga University’s Reflection. She currently teaches English, writes and runs the trails of Spokane, Washington. Katherine finds solace, joy and inspiration in running and movement. Her next chapter is the Boston Marathon and some epic trails in Europe. You can follow her running and poetry @katherine.charters
