I'm taking a walk on a path made of canvas; it moves as I travel along.
It bounces and squeaks and makes all sort of noise, a traveling type of a song.
So flat, yet many a hill will I climb; so tame, yet a wild wooly journey.
I will walk on this path till my time has expired, or they carry me out on a gurney.
This journey of pain that I take every day is a trip that I take with delight.
By taking a walk on the wild moving highway, insures that I sleep well at night.
Sometimes I climb to the highest of mountains, sometimes I run on a track.
Other times I'm running in deep outer space, I'll go far but will always come back.
Tomorrow I'll go to the trail-head of canvas, revisiting yesterdays trip.
I will tighten my laces and hitch up my pants while keeping a stiff upper lip.
I'll ignore all the aches and pains I feel; I've been told, with no pain there's no gain.
I don't buy that at all; in fact it's my feeling, that the person who said it's insane.
Some slopes are slippery some paths arcane, some things are hard to define.
The things we may do are genius or crazy, the difference a very fine line.
Say what you may, think what you like; I am still going to do as I will.
I'm sure to be found running around, on my faithful old friend the treadmill.~Jay Olson
