The Runners

Fifty thousand runners ran
Or walked or limped or jogged;
Through the streets of New York City,
Past the cheering crowds they slogged.

In their singlets or their t-shirts,
Where their numbers were displayed,
There was fierce determination
In a colorful parade.

Though the winners finished quickly
Most would need all afternoon
And the finish line in Central Park
Could not appear too soon.

As I watched them and applauded,
They impressed me with their spunk
And I had the realization
That my own has somehow shrunk!