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Poem
we gather together, a hundred or so
stetching, warming cold muscles, just waiting to go

nervous anticipation, just wanting to start,
we collect our numbers, have a piss, have a fart

as our tummies stir with butterflies and angst
we stand at the starting line a group, a phalanx

a marshall says ready, then silence, we know
that what is  coming next is a timed, shouted "GO"

Then en masse, as a block we all start to run 
A mass of humanity, that moved at the gun

it starts as a lurch, and bumped elbows and arms
theres no place for courtesy, gentlemanly charms

as the race now begins all focussed, eyes front
all searching for space, a chance, a gap,  that's the hunt 

it all settles down by five hundred metres
the field becomes spread - plodders, speedsters...  and cheaters

oh indeed, there are those that break all the rules
that cut corners, take drugs, but they take us for fools

we know who they are , they stand out by a mile 
they have previous you see, they are all down on file

the rest of us plod on,  except those with speed
they zoom off ahead, running far into the lead 

and now its a mile and the legs now feel good
the early stiffness is gone, they don't feel like wood 

feet schlepping softly, breathing steady and strong
we're well in our groove, legs easy, striding so long

the field has thinned out now, runners spread afar
from leaders to last man, some in costumes bizarre

all doing their damndest, to complete in style,
to push through the aches and pains, right through the last mile 

in the last mile it tells, when not all's quite right
when breathing is ragged, the end still not in sight

the quads are now burning, both feet feel so hot
sweat runs into our eyes, and our gait is all shot

the last hundred metres seems like a trial
the finish line grows distant, seems like a mile 

crowds clapping and cheering, all willing us on 
we're all in it together until the day's done

finally the line comes, it arrives  in a  rush 
across it we stagger, everything hurting so much 

we've done it, we've finished, completed at last
we did what we could though by no means at all  fast

we few, we happy few, we band of brothers
we drink water, eat cake, make small talk with others 

and now its all over, its back home for rest
to shower, to relax - then to plan for the next.

(c) ian diddams 2018
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