Although I lived in the United States for a year as an AFS student in 1962-63 and although I spent more than two months in US while I was on my first sabbatical leave in 1976, it wasn't until 1985, while I was on my third visit to the country, that I ran in America. On that occasion, I ran in three separate states during a two-and-a-half week stay in the USA. My next trip to the US was three years later – when I was at the apex of my abilities as a runner – and I enjoyed running in two more states. Nine years went by before I next ran in the USA, but while on a climbing trip to the United States in 1997, I again increased my running states' tally by two.

Towards the end of the following year, I spent five weeks in the USA and ran in four new states. After each run, I emailed a "poem" (for the want of a better word) to my son, Evan, The poems didn't mention the names of the states I'd run in, but – instead – contained clues as to which states they were.

After that, I was hooked. Not only did I devote considerable efforts to increasing the number of states I ran in, but I also continued to write poems about each of the new states that I ran in, and – for better or for worse: well, almost certainly for worse! – the poems, or rather the poor instances of bad doggerel, got considerably longer. My first poem – about my run in my eighth US state – was a mere two lines long; some of my later poems reached 24 lines …

To qualify, a run must fulfil two conditions (and as I set the rules, they're both intelligent and inviolable). A run must be at least 5 miles / 8 kilometres long; and it must be on the ground (as a result of the latter rule, I once vetoed the prospect of running on the spot on a bus I was travelling in that spent 45 minutes passing through a corner of Kentucky!). Following these rules, I've thus far run in 33 of the states of the USA. They are shown in the jig-saw map in the photograph in the top left-hand corner of this web-page (click on the map if you'd like to see a larger version of it).

This web-page also contains the poems that I wrote for each of the states. (It should be noted, though, that the poems for states 1 to 7 were written well after the event, to complete the record.) Each state's poem is also accompanied by a photograph illustrating either where or with whom I ran, or some aspect of the state's identity. You are welcome to see if you can work out which states the poems refer to. The states are indexed in the left-hand side bar on this page (i) by the order in which I ran in them and (ii) by their names in alphabetic order, so – if you want to check whether you've correctly guessed which state I am referring to in any of my poems – simply click on the state's name in the second side-bar list to see whether you were right or not.

I have had a lot of fun running in the various US states I've visited, and I have also had a lot of fun doggedly composing doggerel about them. I hope that you have fun reading these poems, and – for those of you who appreciate statistics – here's a graph illustrating the number of new states I have run in by the year in which I ran in them.

State number 1:
RUNNING ALONGSIDE THE RIVER THAT RUNS THROUGH IT

My first-ever run in the US of A
Was in '85 – on the 14th of May,
And although I did not know it then
'Twas in a state I'd visit again and again.

I first went to the state to work on a book
That I helped write and which took
Three countries – America, Israel, and New Zealand –
And studied "pol. tol." in them at first hand.

Then fifteen years later, Evan went to the very same state
To do his PhD, and from there too he did graduate.
Heather and I thus visited him year in and year out,
Which is why I've run most in this state, of that there's no doubt.

The Mississippi River doth begin in this state and flow
Through its two main cities, so that's oft where I do go
To run beside the mightiest river in the US.
So which state was number one? You'll easily guess!

My first run in the United States was on Tuesday, 14 May 1985,
and was along this riverside boulevard. Since then I have run
here more often than anywhere else in the United States.

**********

State number 2:
WHERE THE REVOLUTION BEGAN

The second US state in which I ran
Was where the American revolution began:
The tea party; minute men; and Paul Revere –
That the state's a source of history is very clear.

Unlike the first US state in which I ran, I'd been
To my second running state already and had seen
My aunt, uncle and cousins there twice before.
Running in the state thus brought memories of yore

Of how I visited the state alone in 1963,
But how in '76, both H. and E. came with me.
They're all the clues to this state's name that I'll allow.
Surely you can work out where it is now!

On 18 April 1775, Paul Revere rode through my state number two,
mythically shouting "The British are coming; the British are
coming!" Two hundred and ten years later — on Wednesday,
22 May 1985 — I first ran in the state, shouting nothing ...

**********

State number 3:
THE ATLANTIC'S ROCKY SHORE

My run in state number three
Was from my aunt's house by the sea.
I ran to the harbour village store
Close to the Atlantic's rocky shore.

The name of the third state in which I ran
With the same letter as states one and two began,
But whereas state one was pure mid-west,
For state three, its last two letters are best

Used as a clue to its unique location
In an uppermost corner of the nation.
I'm sure these hints won't be in vain:
They'll inform you – as well as entertain!

A photograph of the rocky shoreline near my aunt and uncle's seaside
cottage in the 3rd US state in which I ran. The only run I have ever had
in this state was on Friday, 24 May 1985.

*********

State number 4:
ROYALTY, PRESIDENTS, AND FRIENDS

From Elizabeth I, England's Queen,
My fourth state got its name.
Since then, too, it has also been
A source of Presidential fame.

Washington and Jefferson came from this state.
The Jameses – Madison and Monroe – did too.
And 'twas in this state that I had a date
To meet someone whom I knew.

I'd known Neville in Africa at school
But thereafter hadn't seen him again
For quarter of a century – that's not cool –
Till we met in this state, and when

We renewed our bonds as friend and friend.
Older now but wiser, we also found
That to running our interests did extend,
Thus together along the Chessie Trail we bound.

In 1988 I went to see a South African high school friend, Neville
Richardson, who was then a visiting professor of theology at an
American university. This is a picture of NR-squared (i.e., of Nigel
Roberts, left, and of Neville Richardson, right) on the lawns of the
university campus. Together with Neville, I went for my first run
in my 4th US state on Thursday, 26 May 1988.

*********

State number 5:
'CROSS GRASS AND SAND

When I was twenty
Of fun I had plenty
Driving through Europe with Dave,
Gary and Bill: it was a rave!

Then when I was forty-four
I saw Bill and Gary some more
And with those two I went
To a Danish US-settlement.

From which we drove north to reach
Dave's house, that's near a shell beach,
And there – to get exercise after the drive –
I ran 'cross grass and sand in state number five.

Which state was that? I will allow
Just one more clue for you now.
No state has a bigger population
In the entire American nation.

On Tuesday, 31 May 1988, I ran for the first time in my 5th US state. Earlier
that day, I was photographed (see the bottom right-hand corner of the
picture) taking a photograph of a Danish windmill. A Danish windmill in
the USA? Where on earth (or, rather, which state) can it be?

*********

State number 6:
"DON'T CALIFORNICATE THIS PLACE!"

Amanda and Roger Marcus I first met
When they were in the Peace Corps,
And 'twas always a good bet
That I would see them some more.

Two years later they came to stay
In NZ, and after another nine
It was time for me to head their way
And see them in a state so fine

That the residents there do say,
"Don't Californicate this place!"
Keep our coast and mountains, they do pray,
A clean and pristine space.

'Twas there that Roger and I ran with ease
Along the banks of the river that flows
Through all the state's main cities
While from south to the north it goes.

"Which state is this?"
I hear you say.
"Is it a state of bliss
Between C and W, eh?"

On 12 December 1985, I reached the top of Mt Kilimanjaro together with
Roger Marcus (who is seen on the right in this summit shot), and on
Sunday, 15 June 1997, I ran together with Roger in my 6th US state.

*********

State number 7:
THE GREAT ONE

My running state seven acquires fame
From a mountain with the name
The Great One.

In area, too, the size of this state
Any of the others it doth out-rate.
The Great One.

To this large state in the north I went
To climb – 'twas opportunity heaven-sent –
The Great One.

For a first run in any state, this was by far my longest
Because, in preparing for the climb, I was my strongest.
The Great One.

I'm pleased to say both run and climb went like a treat:
Running at sea-level; climbing at twenty-thousand feet.
The Great One.

On the run I felt good all the time I did go,
And on the peak, I topped out in the snow.
Ah! Great One!

When I ran along the coastal trail next to this inlet (which is named after
someone closely associated with New Zealand — namely, Captain Cook)
on Wednesday, 18 June 1997, it was the 7th US state in which I'd run.

*********

State number 8:
OH, SO IT'S A FRENCH NAME ...

The Green Mountain state
Was Nigel's number eight.

Because it was early winter when I first ran in my 8th state on Thursday,
3 December 1998, the mountains were brown rather than green ...

**********

State number 9:
AN OLD HOME OF MINE

State number nine
Was an old home of mine;
'Tis the Buckeye state.
The run was great
And I'm feeling fine.

My first run in state number 9 was on Monday, 7 December 1998, and
was round the western half of a pair of lakes known as Twin Lakes.

**********

State number 10:
WHOSE WHERE?

The Hoosier state was my number ten.
On the campus of the Fighting Irish
My run was so good that I wish
I could do it all over again ...

My first run in state number 10 was on Wednesday, 9 December 1998, and
was also round twin lakes (nicknamed "Mary" and "Joseph"), which are on
the campus of a well-known Roman Catholic university.

**********

State number 11:
LEGS ELEVEN

I'm pleased to say state number eleven
Was the land of enchantment.
It was, of course, pure heaven –
What else could the phrase have meant?

From Jane's house I made my way
to the mighty Rio Grande
Late on the year's last day
Along hard roads and soft sand.

I ran for more than an hour
In the state of Nouveau …,
And after a nice hot shower
There are now only 39 to go!

The first run I had in state number 11 was on Thursday, 31 December 1998,
and — as I note in the above poem — left from Jane's house, which is
typical of the architectural style of many of the buildings in this state.

**********

State number 12:
LAND OF LINCOLN RUN

To hear this, you'll be agog,
But the saluki is a dog.
Whence it hails, you'll never guess.
It's from Egypt, no less!
Said saluki is the mascot --
It's neat, it's great, it's hot --
Of the varsity round whose lake
I ran twice this eve to make
The Land of Lincoln -- what joy, what fun --
The twelfth state in which I've run!

My first run in my 12th state was during the evening on Monday,
25 June 2001, and was round this lake, which is on the campus
of the university with a saluki as its symbol.

**********

State number 13:
RUNNING ON AN UNCONFUSING DATE

7/7/01 was the date –
No confusion there; that's great –
When I ran in state
Number thirteen
Which is found between
IL and KS, if you know what I mean.

Wow, it was hot!
95F is a lot
Of scorching degrees
Even when measured in Cs.
Thirty-five to be precise –
Far too warm to be nice.

I ran five miles in Forest Park.
I was perspiring; it was no lark.
Who cares though? It's one more on my slate,
Because I've now run in the Show Me State.

I ran in my 13th state on Saturday, 7 July 2001, and used the
'facilities' in this art museum — which is often known as
SLAM — for getting into my running clothes beforehand
and for washing and changing afterwards!

**********

State number 14:
THE STATE OF MILK AND BEER

Well, I came here
To the state of milk and beer.
It's the fourteenth one
In which I have run.

Georgia O'Keefe was born in the state
In 1887 – that was the date.
Of her works there was a major show
So I came north from the state below.

It was a quick trip, just overnight,
But Georgia's art was a real delight.
So too was my lakeside running fix:
It just proves sport and culture do mix!

Georgia O'Keefe's art was on display in this new museum, which is on
the shores of the lake that I ran alongside when I ran in state number
14 on Friday, 20 July 2001.

**********

State number 15:
STATE OF MY IGNORANCE

If ignorance is bliss
And 'tis folly to be wise,
Then you should listen to this.
It could cause some surprise.

I'd not known prior that the city where
I ran in State fifteen – no less –
Was its capital. For the fact I cannot hear
Your disdain, I'm grateful, I guess.

I did know, though, that the city is the home
Of country music and the Titans.
But of its capitol without a dome
I knew nought. My ignorance frightens

Even me, I am sad to say.
But I'm not down in the mouth.
Far from it, 'cause today – hooray! –
I went arunning in the South.

The "capitol without a dome" in the capital city of state number 15,
where I ran on Wednesday, 25 July 2001.

**********

State number 16:
AVERAGING ONE STATE PER YEAR

To run in my sixteenth state
On the Metro I sallied forth
And from D.C. I headed north.
3 August '01 was the date.

I went to green and leafy College Park
Simply to run there, for you see
Sixteen's a major milestone for me:
'Twas back in '85 I began this lark.

My average is now one state a year
Sixteen is thus a cause for pleasure
But it is at the same time a measure
Of the task ahead of me, I fear.

For if I keep running at this rate
I'll finish my quest
And be able to rest
When I'm 91: oh what a fate!

I ran in my 16th state on Friday, 3 August 2001. It was one of the
13 colonies that signed the Declaration of Independence, and I've
thus chosen to portray it using this photograph of John Trumbull's
well-known painting of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

**********

State number 17:
MILE HIGH RUN

The last time I ran
In a new state
Was August '01 in Marylan'
Now after a 16-month wait
I've added one more
US state to my score.

A long gap between flights
Was the chance I needed
To run up in the heights.
It was a call that I heeded.
So out of the airport I went
The opportunity was heaven-sent.

In a state with many beauty spots
I ran four times round
The airport's parking lots!
But it was outside and on the ground
So, yes, it does count. It's fair.
I was running in thin mountain air.

The run was one mile high.
It was also five miles long.
Snowy peaks pierced the sky,
So my running was not strong.
State seventeen is almost square.
Can you guess where?

I ran in my 17th US state on Monday, 2 December 2002 (but I didn't take this
picture: it's part of a postcard I bought as a souvenir because it shows the
parking lots that I ran round).

**********

State number 18:
GAMBOLING

The eighteenth state
In which I have run
Bids you tempt your fate:
Have a flutter, have some fun!

Ace of spades, ten of clubs,
Black jack, poker, and roulette.
I shunned them all, plus the pubs,
And on my run off I set.

Along the path and up the hills I ran.
In the east the plains were dusty;
Mountains to the west. All went to plan.
My legs felt good, they were not rusty.

John and Susan told me where to go.
Oh irony! Nought was left to chance
In the state with many a casino,
And 'cross its dry hills I did prance.

Can you tell where I have been?
Don't give up. Try harder.
After all the clues you've seen
Surely you know it is _ _ _ _ _ _ .

On Friday, 6 December 2002, I ran in my 18th state. My run was along part
of the Tom Cooke Trail in the treeless foothills of the Snowy Range (to
use an English translation of the name of the mountains).

**********

State number 19:
TARLESS HEELS

It was in the tar heel state
When on a spring morn I set out
For a run that was just great.
With blossoms and green leaves all about.

Although the state's colour is light blue,
The skies were dull and grey.
That mattered not. The state was new:
'Twas my nineteenth. Hooray! Hooray!

But I did not have tar heels –
No way! There was spring in the air
And in my steps. You know how it feels
When you run with speed and flair.

Dogwood, cherry, pine, and oak:
The lush verdant greenery was fine.
And the light drizzle did not soak
Me in state number nine plus ten.

Dogwood blossoms formed part of the scenery when
I ran in my 19th state on Wednesday, 9 April 2003.

**********

State number 20:
TWO-FIFTHS DONE

Did you know that Civil War began
In the twentieth state in which I ran?
It was the shelling of Sumter's Fort
That started the war the North and South fought.

The shots were fired on 12 April 1861,
Exactly eighty-three years ere my life begun.
Linked by a key date,
Running here was my fate.

Twenty states: my goal is two-fifths done
And thus far it's been good fun.
However, there are still thirty states to go
So I cannot stop to rest, you know.

On Monday, 14 April 2003 (two days after I turned 59 and two days
after the 142nd anniversary of the start of the Civil War), the state
where the war began became the 20th US state in which I'd run.

**********

State number 21:
ON MY MIND

When I was at Scott Base amidst the snow
There was a brief poem that I got to know:
     The ice
     Is nice,
     But Ch'ch*
     Is peachy.
Having run in a new state today, I find
The state, like that brief poem, is on my mind.

The states in which I've run
Now add up to twenty-one,
And my new total I did reach
In the state best known for peach.

The USSR, too, had a state with this name.
From the Soviet state came the leader we blame
For millions of deaths, tortures, and pains,
While the US state gave us Jimmy from Plains.

'Twas in Crooked River State Park
In late afternoon, but well ere dark,
That I ran through bushes, palm, and pine.
States left to run in? A mere twenty-nine!

(*: Ch'ch -- pronounced. "Cheechee" by some US personnel in
Antarctica -- is an abbreviation for Christchurch.)

On Wednesday evening, 16 April 2003, I ran along the Palmetto
and other trails in a park in the 21st state in which I'd run.

**********

State number 22:
UNLIKE AL

'Twas just two minutes past seven
When the bright red orb of the sun
Rose in the eastern heaven.
How do I know? I was on my run

In state number twenty-two.
Days are hot here: 85.
So carefully I planned what to do:
Start running early to stay alive!

The sun soon turned from red to orange to yellow.
So too the air began to warm,
But I was fine and feeling mellow.
I was running well and true to form.

The state is famed for 'gators, Disney and space.
It was here too that Al Gore
Lost his presidential race,
Which led, I'm sure, to the current war.

But, unlike Al, I won my race.
I ran before it got too hot.
Although the sweat poured off my face
Did the heat beat me? It did not!

Two bridges too far? My run on Saturday, 19 April 2003, was in my 22nd state,
and the route I took included crossing both these bridges (going out on
the left-hand bridge and returning to my motel via the right-hand one).

**********

State number 23:
FEET NOT CARVED IN STONE

The 23rd US state in which I ran
Was one to which I'd gone
Not to see Presidents carved in stone,
But to study campaigns with Evan.

Even our run had a political theme,
Because Evan's T-shirt was way out of tune
With Republicans such as candidate John Thune;
"Run Against Bush" it said: a futile dream.

The state's bird is an intruder, a pheasant,
And though we didn't see one
During our riverside run
Along the Big Sioux, 'twas most pleasant.

Evan in his T-shirt with "a political theme" after our run
in my 23rd state on Wednesday, 27 October 2004 — six
days before George Bush won his race (for re-election
as President of the United States).

**********

State number 24:
THE UNICAM STATE

In the 24th state in which I ran in the US
What was the object, what was the lure?
Why I went there, you'll never guess.
It was a unicameral legislature.

'Tis the sole single-chamber state house
In all the US there's no other one.
For pol sci professors it's famous
And thus it demanded my attention.

So I went to the state especially to see
The capitol building with its tall tower.
The designers used marble and art aplenty,
And Evan and I viewed it for more than an hour.

But then the time came to go for a run,
So across the town and around the uni we went
In the late afternoon; 'twas good, 'twas fun
To run in the capital named for a President.

On Thursday, 28 October 2004, I ran in my 24th state —
the only state with a unicameral legislature.

**********

State number 25:
HALF WAY

There are fifty states in the USA,
So it's really good to be alive
And to have run in twenty-five,
Which means I'm exactly half way

Towards my goal, towards my quest
To run in every state.
Oh wouldn't it be great
To also run in all the rest.

The state where I reached half way
Is middle America through and through
Which strikes me, and I hope you too,
As apt and not something you'd gainsay.

Herbert Hoover, a Quaker, was born
In the 25th state in which I ran.
He was Pres when the Depression began
Which, sad to say, made many forlorn.

Bill Bryson came from its capital city.
Someone had to be born there, he said.
It's a line in his book that many have read
And thus scoffed at the state. 'Tis a pity

Because cows and corn are not that bad.
What is more, the undulating farms
Of the state have certain charms.
To have been there and run, I'm truly glad.

On Friday, 29 October 2004, I ran in my 25th state, and have
chosen to illustrate it with a photograph of a ceramic tile
I inherited from my parents that depicts a scene from
the state.

**********

State number 26:
NEITHER AWOI NOR IIAWAH

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Which states are the fairest of them all?
    Of course the states that I’m a liking
    Are those with mirror-writing.
And which states might those be?
    Oh, you fool, it’s plain to see:
    One is the state where you first did live;
    And another’s symbol is the beehive –
    ‘Tis the twenty-sixth state in which you ran.
Oh, mirror, thank you, I began,
I see now as you do. I know
The first state I lived in was OIHO,
So another favoured state for you
Must, I see, be HATU
For today that is where I did run
To make my tally half the states plus one.

To beat the mid-summer heat in the 26th state in which I ran, I got up at
5:30 am on Wednesday, 12 July 2006, and ran round and round a nearby
high school's running track.

**********

State number 27:
POTATO EGO (OR IS IT ID?)

Twenty-seven is a favourite number
Of mine, so I did not lumber
Along when I ran in this state.
No, my early morning run was great.

I ran up Highway 30 – the old wagon route
To Oregon and California to boot –
In this state whose agricultural fame
Is based on spuds, or so they claim.

Twenty-seven – the day in January my Dad
Was born; ‘twas also the number our house had
In PTN. Twenty-seven, too, was the age
That caused Tonia to think Heather was a sage.

So which was the twenty-seventh state
In which I ran? Well, as I said, fate
Decreed it is the home of the humble ‘tater.
Still don’t know? Well, I’ll tell you later.

On Thursday, 13 July 2006, I ran in my 27th state on an out-and-back route
along former wagon trails that had taken nineteenth century pioneers
to Orgeon and California.

**********

State number 28:
THIS STATE COMES LAST -- TWICE

Today’s run made it twenty-eight
States in which I’ve run, which is great.
But though this state is very nice
It also happens to come last – twice!

The United States number ten plus two score
But alphabetically after this one there are no more.
And of all the states its population is the least.
Its scenery, however, is a visual feast.

The state is popular with tourists all year round.
In the winter they can be found
On snow mobiles and skiing all a shiver,
While in the summer they’re rafting on Snake River.

So have you worked out which state
I ran in today? If not then contemplate
The fact that Dick Cheney is from here:
He whom George Bush holds so dear.

On Friday, 14 July 2006, I ran in my 28th state. It may have the smallest
population of any state in the Union, but it also has one of the USA's
more distinctive state flags.

**********

State number 29:
BIG SKY HIGH

My run in state number nine-plus-twenty
Was in an area with altitude aplenty.
Running above seven-and-a-half thousand feet did usher
In a new height record, beating seven-thousand in Russia.

Myron Tripp, my Tas Uni POLS lecturer,
Served in the House in this state’s legislature
Hundreds of times he told us about it –
A lonely Dem in a mainly Republican outfit!

Many a top-selling New Zealand wine
That come from Blenheim and taste just fine
Have the same name as this state.
Why, and where I ran, are two mysteries to contemplate.

If you think more clues are still in line
To help you work out my state number 29
Then here’s the last one for you to try:
Just think of the phrase, "Big Sky".

On Sunday, 23 July 2006, during a short rest between two climbing trips,
I ran in state number 29. The base for my rest and for my run was this
small town, which is 7,600 feet / 2,316 metres above sea level.

**********

State number 30:
DIRTY THIRTY

On my run in state number thirty
I got all muddy and dirty
Because I ran in light rain in a large central park
Where tourists are warned not to go after dark.

The run was at a well-paced velocity
In the most famous park in a city
That shares the same name as its state.
Both have slogans, though, that aren't great.

Why the state likes the name Empire
Is hard to imagine. It's really dire
In a country that broke with the crown
In 1776, when the empire went down.

And why's the city called the Big Apple?
It's a slogan that really does baffle.
In a metropolis with eight million folk
Space for orchards aint really bespoke.

Despite these oddities I must say
Running in my thirtieth state today
Was really good – it's a true landmark:
Now there are only 20 to do ere I kark!

On Friday, 20 October 2006, I ran in my 30th state. The clues in the above
poem for identifying the state are so easy that I have deliberately
obliterated the name of the city that was on this notice!

**********

State number 31:
RUN FREE OR DIE

Live free or die
Is the passionate cry
Of state thirty-one
In which I did run.

The state's nickname
Has also garnered fame.
Its slogan is great:
It's the Granite State.

Near a mountain and lake
My journey I did break
So I could run free
In a place called Sunapee.

So thirty-one states is now my score
And Evan's is neither less nor more.
There are thus nineteen left to go.
Who will win this race? I don't know.

On Friday, 27 October 2008, I ran in my 31st state. My running route
took me past this road sign, but I didn't see a moose ...

**********

State number 32:
QUAKER ROOTS

The thirty-second state in which I ran
As a Quaker colony originally began.
Indeed, around Haverford College I did run –
A university that was by Quakers begun.

In this state the Independence Declaration
Was signed in 1776; and thus a new nation
Came into being on the fourth of July.
Poor George the Third could only cry!

Here, too, the US Constitution later was written
Welding thirteen states together: the bullet was bitten.
After these events the US grew and grew
To be a major world power matched by few.

But if only the US had stayed small,
Then my attempt to run in all
Its states would have been a breeze:
Something I could've done with ease.

Instead, though, after a tally of thirty-two
There are still eighteen states left to do.
It's a really tough challenge for me:
I wonder: what will the next one will be?

Although this man is invariably associated with the 32nd state in which
I ran (on Tuesday, 31 October 2006 — i.e., Halloween), he wasn't born in
this state, but was born in the second American state I ran in.

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State number 33:
EVERGREEN RUNNER

In the early morning I was keen
To run in the state that's evergreen
For that's its nickname, as you may have heard,
And in my running tally, it's now thirty-third,

Which means I'm two-thirds the way to the full fifty!
Running along the Burke-Gilman Trail was nifty.
'Tis an old rail line that skirts a lake
That the same name as its state did take.

"I hope it'll stay dry," I was a pray'n'
For state 33 is renowned for its rain.
And from their position high above the Cascade Range
The weather gods smiled on me: it stayed dry for a change.

In the early morn, a raccoon I did see --
It scuttled across the trail in front of me.
Thus close to nature I did feel:
'Twas quite poetic (unlike this spiel!).

I've run in eight new states this year
But there'll be a pause now I do fear,
And when I'll start the last seventeen
Is not known, for the future's quite unseen …

On Thursday, 7 December 2006, when I ran along the Burke-Gilman trail
for the first time, the state in which the trail is located became the 33rd
US state in which I have run. Since then, however, my quest to run in all
fifty states has paused (temporarily, I trust) ...

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Pages in the Running section of my website were last updated on 27 January 2009.