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We Do Not
Run For Prize

Inspired by "The Song of the Ungirt Runners" by WWI poet Charles Hamilton Sorley, our latest short film chronicles the sights and sensations of spring running. Former Harvard athlete James Leakos reads. Loyola Marymount miler Mike Carlone and Syracuse 800-meter runner Molly Malone run along the windy and wet Massachusetts coast.
Featuring our men's and women's Logan Jackets.

The Song of the Ungirt Runners

We swing ungirded hips,
And lightened are our eyes,
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
We know not whom we trust
Nor whitherward we fare,
But we run because we must    
Through the great wide air.

The waters of the seas 
Are troubled as by storm.
The tempest strips the trees
And does not leave them warm.
Does the tearing tempest pause?
Do the tree-tops ask it why?
So we run without a cause  
'Neath the big bare sky.

The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
But the storm the water whips
And the wave howls to the skies.
The winds arise and strike it
And scatter it like sand,
And we run because we like it    
Through the broad bright land.

                                     — Charles Hamilton Sorley

Charles Hamilton Sorley was a Scottish poet, British Army Officer and runner. His poem, "The Song of the Ungirt Runners," is an ode to his days racing cross country in the rain while studying at Marlborough College. A member of Britain's "Lost Generation," he enlisted in Kitchener's Army at the outbreak of World War One and served bravely in the muddy trenches of France. Killed at age 20 during the Battle of Loos, his last poem was discovered posthumously in his battle kit.

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