If you know me or have been following my blogs for a while you may know that I have a penchant for bad poetry. I like playing with words, putting them together like a puzzle to tell a rhyming story. Someone once said to me, "Your poems are getting better." I laughed because my poems are supposed to be bad, that's the fun part. 

In the spirit of Christmas please enjoy my own runner's version of "Twas the Night Before Christmas."

'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE A BIG RACE

Twas the night before a big race and all through the house
This runner’s not sleeping, so neither's her spouse. 

Compressions were laid by the front door with care
In hopes that fresh legs would magically appear. 

The runner was nestled all snug in her bed
While visions of PRs danced in her head. 

She slept in her race gear, with shoes on the floor
So with a quick morning dash she’s out the door.

Then from the alarm clock there rose such a clatter
She sprung from her bed, hoped the lost sleep won’t matter.

Away to the race, she flew like a flash
To the packet pick-up like she was running a dash. 

The moon was the only light at the start
But she looked at her wrist and it sunk her heart.

She forgot her GPS watch, this should be expected
She’d forget her own head if it wasn’t connected.

But what to her wondering eyes should appear
But her hubby waving and flailing her gear! 

He followed behind her so lively and quick
With watch in hand, he laid it on thick:

He whistled and shouted and called out her name
"You owe me big time," he loudly exclaimed!

With great relief and her watch in hand
She was ready to run this race as planned. 

She flexed and bent, the stretch felt so good
She was off at the gun sound as fast as she could. 

And as she was running, he flew to her side
Hubby huffing and puffing, was matching her stride. 

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
He’d run this race as her pacer, and he turned with a smirk

“I wanted to help you to not hit the wall!
To keep up with me, you’ll give it your all!”

As they ran through the course, along the streets,
They heard nothing but foot strikes and collective heart beats. 

They sprung through the finish in record time
Her PR achieved with her partner in crime. 

As the race was ending, with much delight,
The runners heard him exclaim as he ran out of sight...

"To all the walkers, the runners, and all the racers
In my heart, you are all age group placers!"

Merry Christmas, Friends! I hope you all have a happy holiday! 

Want to give me a gift? If you like this post, it helps me when you share with your friends and followers. 
 

COACH LEA