How running has changed for you: a confession of a Runnaholic

I remember the days

When I ran wild and free

Running was just running to me

There was nothing to correct

Nothing to do

Just find a path and away you'd go

No cares for the world

Or where your arms were

Or what your foot strike were

It was all about running

The road, the freedom and you

You ran when you were happy

You ran when you were sad

You ran from situations 

That often got you mad

Over fields and meadows

Across grounds and streams

You went where the road lead you

With absolute glee 

There were no markers to tell you

How far you had been

It was just you and your senses

Trying to judge where you had been

There were no watches to tell you

What pace you did take

Just breeze of the air

As it brushed your face

No phones and earplugs

No apps or music to listen to

Just the sound which nature provided you

The rustling of the breeze

The chirping of the birds in the trees

The joyful yelps of pet

And cheers of your friend

There were no races to be won

No podium to stand on

No medals to bite on 

Once you were done

Just cheers and howls

of your friends who were around

Even though you ran out breath

But it's the joy that you felt

Breathing in nature

Telling you that you're alive

The years have gone by

What was fun now a passion

Complexing what you once knew

Your run is all about mileage

And maintaining a form and pace

Where your hand is 

How your arms swing

How you lean forward

And where your foot meets the ground

You run on a track 

Or on an empty road

But it's Your race that dictates 

where you train 

On a flat route or a slope

Up inclines and down declines

But holding on to the form

Keeping your hands 

where they should be

Ensuring you're taking breaths 

To coordinate with your strides

You race at a pace 

As fast as you can 

To achieve your best 

Then post about it 

And share it with all

Then preen and pose

For selfies and pics

And if it ain't your best

Blame the weather and your health 

A niggling injury that flared up

Even a mismanaged race

Everything that can be blamed

Is sure to be blamed

Though running now is competitive 

The passion burns bright

But that spirit that you ran with

Still lingers with you

Trying to burst out

Making you long to run with

No cares of the world

No form no technique

No pace to keep

Just you and the path you run on

All wild and free