Tuesday, 27 March 2012

A parkrun lesson

by Martin Allen

Saturday morn; I topple out,
leary eyed, stumbling about,
'It's half past eight', the radio shouts,
I'm running late, darn it!

At the course with seconds to spare,
The starter gives a quizzical stare,
And points out that I'm standing there,
Without my running kit.
'No worries Sir, you're here with friends,
You can still run and make amends,
For running here does not depend,
On having all your gear'.
'Stand over there with all the rest,
Just go out there and run your best,
But you're doing it in your pants and vest',
And he clipped me round the ear!
I'm lined up ready to compete,
Feeling rather incomplete,
At least I've slippers on my feet,
To protect them from the ground.
The whistle goes and runners flee,
All of them, except for me,
I'm still fiddling with my mp3,
I didn't hear a sound.
Music's done, so off I tear,
I try to float with style and flair,
My slippers flapping in the air,
I'm feeling such a loon.
I see a man ahead of me,
Shuffling as is customary,
For a man who's almost 93,
I hope to catch him soon.
I near him with such manly grace,
I'm in the zone; I've picked up pace,
Then thwack - a blow straight to my face,
I fall in disarray.
Dented branch and dented pride,
Dented head with pain inside,
Why do trees always decide,
To get right in my way?
Dusted down, regained my pose,
Wiped the debris from my clothes,
Two lost teeth and bloodied nose,
I'm flapping once again.
The finish line appears in sight,
Onto grass, that final flight,
Dodging dogs mess left and right,
I'm finishing like a train.
I hit the line, I hit the floor,
Was it quick? I can't be sure,
But my underclothes were revealing more,
Than just my personal best!

So, next week at your parkrun place,
Wear a smile upon your face,
Though kit and shoes must always replace,
Your slippers, pants and vest.

Other blogs by me:
How parkruns and bumblebees can lead to half marathon success

Eastbourne parkrun 24 March 2012

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