The Book

It's a Dollar Store composition notebook.
The type with the pages sewn in and a black
and white marbled cardboard cover.
I've been journaling on and off for years
but this particular one is special.
Taped to it's pages are pictures I've printed
off the Internet that show speed skaters, young
and not so young, racing.
Some of these stills capture an arm swing,
or the angle of a foot, but they are all of
things I want to emulate, all things I want to
make my own.
Some simply capture a look of determination.
It's said that everything starts with an idea,
and my notebook is full of them.
Quotes, words of advice from pro athletes,
reviews of what went on at each team practice,
my current action plan.
These serve to help keep my eye on the goals
I've chosen, help to keep my thoughts positive,
and act as a navigational beacon to keep me
heading in the direction I want to go.
Just where would that be?
Why, up and over the limits I've placed on
myself.
Limits I mentally accepted because of age,
and lack of natural talent.
One of those goals is to push against the
confines of my own personal speed skating
envelope.