Marathon Poem: The Strength Of The American Woman

The rain came down in frozen sheets,

the temperature was thirty five degrees.

There were no high fives or happy smiles,

just the furrowed brow of twenty six miles.

A marathon is always a challenging thing,

but it's worse when winter is the Hopkinton Spring.

Mothers and daughters, side by side,

soaked by the rain, but saturated with pride.

They worked together in the freezing rain,

and moved through the cold, withstood the pain.

Heads down, but striding, running tall,

there ain't nothing stronger than an American gal.

And on Boylston Street, when the race was through,

the wet pavement was bright red, white and blue.

I saw strength on the street that day,

a strength that would not float away.

They had given birth, they had heard the bombs,

mother nature was no match for our American moms.

You can measure strength in a lot of ways,

by what a man can lift or the sport he plays.

But, for me, the strength that wins the gold,

is the strength that can lift a soggy soul.

From California to Portland, Maine,

these women arrived to defeat the rain.

Through brutal weather, most unkind,

these daughters stepped past the finish line.

They defeated their doubts, they defeated the weather,

these American sisters who ran together.

These women generated their own special light,

the dark gray day was colored blue, red and white.

We were gladly reminded, when the day was done,

that these colors will always run and run and run.

Let's applaud all these women, who deserve to stand tall,

there ain't nothing stronger than an American gal.

PHOTO: Getty Images

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