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.

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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

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