Over the Hill

He gets up before the dawn, grabs his pack and shoots down his coffee. It's Western 100 race day as he's climbing devil's thumb down to another canyon. Those burning rays are wearing down his body. The 100 miler's bucket is worth the price of gold, always a struggle that never goes easy. But he's still holding on. He just takes the trail another round, climbing up and going down the other side of the mountain, and sends up another prayer. He say's Lord, I never complain, I never ask why, please don't let my dreams run dry, underneath this ultrarunning sky. That Leadville DNF back in 01 sure did a toll on his vision. But he stayed strong and carried on. The very next year he slammed, not just 4 but all 5, and stayed stealth in the shadows. On his knees every night he prays please let my friends and me keep running, cause that's all we've ever known.
He just takes the trail another round, watching ridge and valley passing by running towards the beautiful distance, and sends up another pray. He always says, Lord I never complain, I never ask why, please don't let my dreams run dry, underneath that ultra running sky.