A cool, crisp morning, stomach full
Determination in my heart and
Liquid sloshing in my tummy
Albeit the wrong kind: Red Bull.
Two goals to achieve: to be injury-free
And the other to finish
Thirteen miles and one-tenth
Of sun and shade, asphalt and debris
99 being my runner's tag
Among 100 runners
Hoping I wouldn't finish last
And beaten by an old hag
Customary pictures taken, wishes galore,
A few stretches and warm-ups
The radio in my pocket
Plenty of gatorade in my store
Tried not to think about the 60-year-old lady
Who passed me on mile three
Nor the 12-year-old who flew by me
And whom I labelled totally crazy
The key to success is a sustained pace
They said, Slow and steady
No spurts of any sort, no sprints of any kind
If you want to win the race or just save face
Mile six and I was going smooth
No sign of the turn-around and I was worried so
My liquid nourishment was running low
It was dawning on me slowly, the truth
Hydrate, stressed my still functional brain
My legs screamed for energy on mile eight
My tummy rumbling away like no tomorrow
The worst was my bladder, placed under great strain.
The course, along the river would've been great
On any day but today with its inviting coolness
And little waves lapping on the shore
But not so in my tired, wornout state.
One mile 11 I found a partner in pain
Who was on her first half-marathon
Hah! Advice from one novice to another
Flowed freely and without rein.
A quarter mile from the finish and I faced abandonment
From my partner who ran away
While I struggled to walk
While my confidence was shaken bent.
I heard screaming finally, cheerful and loud
And caught a glimpse of my father, taking pictures
I crossed the finish line with a groan
With cramped legs but admiration from the crowd.
While I lay on the grass overwhelmed by
Cramps, exhaustion and encouragement.
The acknowledgement of people around me
Not the sense of accomplishment or the adrenaline high
Was the greatest victory I could savour, while I limped back home with pride...
Determination in my heart and
Liquid sloshing in my tummy
Albeit the wrong kind: Red Bull.
Two goals to achieve: to be injury-free
And the other to finish
Thirteen miles and one-tenth
Of sun and shade, asphalt and debris
99 being my runner's tag
Among 100 runners
Hoping I wouldn't finish last
And beaten by an old hag
Customary pictures taken, wishes galore,
A few stretches and warm-ups
The radio in my pocket
Plenty of gatorade in my store
Tried not to think about the 60-year-old lady
Who passed me on mile three
Nor the 12-year-old who flew by me
And whom I labelled totally crazy
The key to success is a sustained pace
They said, Slow and steady
No spurts of any sort, no sprints of any kind
If you want to win the race or just save face
Mile six and I was going smooth
No sign of the turn-around and I was worried so
My liquid nourishment was running low
It was dawning on me slowly, the truth
Hydrate, stressed my still functional brain
My legs screamed for energy on mile eight
My tummy rumbling away like no tomorrow
The worst was my bladder, placed under great strain.
The course, along the river would've been great
On any day but today with its inviting coolness
And little waves lapping on the shore
But not so in my tired, wornout state.
One mile 11 I found a partner in pain
Who was on her first half-marathon
Hah! Advice from one novice to another
Flowed freely and without rein.
A quarter mile from the finish and I faced abandonment
From my partner who ran away
While I struggled to walk
While my confidence was shaken bent.
I heard screaming finally, cheerful and loud
And caught a glimpse of my father, taking pictures
I crossed the finish line with a groan
With cramped legs but admiration from the crowd.
While I lay on the grass overwhelmed by
Cramps, exhaustion and encouragement.
The acknowledgement of people around me
Not the sense of accomplishment or the adrenaline high
Was the greatest victory I could savour, while I limped back home with pride...
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