"How longst this sordid season must we endure, I bore ?
Snow storm after snow storm and what now, yet more ?
No plow. A shovel. Good exercise I profess.
To dig out this past storm a chore, I confess.
Snow, sleet and ice has put thou to test.
Curse you, Winter! Stop snowing. No more!
But that’s not the sole purpose of protest; of tis’ lore.
The lament and grief of a New England Runner to explore.
Not bitter cold or dark of night it is I most dread.
Rather slip of foot on slick road before car; render me dead.
Stop Winter! Cease this instant! Have you heard what I said?
Enough with the snow already. I wish you nevermore!
So the dread of treadmill I take my plight.
Others ridicule this action. I know it’s right.
Forge ahead. Endure. With desire and shear might.
Mile after mile going nowhere. Yes, what a bore’
Training can not yield, else find oneself mileage poor.
When will Spring arrive? I fear a Winter forever more…
Any diversion to endure each tenth of mile pass.
A television, an I-Pod or thoughts of race past.
Dreams of victory. Redemption. Hum out a Rocky movie score.
Think me insane? Crazy? Mad to the core?
Think what you will. Inspiration at last.
This Winter without end I wish nevermore…"