I have Ironmen in my pocket:
they are all women–
Mary, Sue, Cathy, Kelly, Catrina, Mary–
I say their names in my head
pedaling to a smooth cadence,
turning my legs over on the run,
or cutting through brackish water,
daring a shark to catch me.
I have Ironmen in my pocket;
they are my secret weapon,
small and fierce.
They race like princess warriors
cast from a different mold
than most–too strong to be contained.
They all earned the title of “Ironman”,
and they whisper “Ironman” on the wind
because one day, I’ll be one too.