What We Do To Win, Part I
I long have been a trail-runner,
and my name is Art Constantine,
sprinting peaks is a thigh-burner,
just as tiring as it seems,
I started this at seventeen.
Most people thought that I was nuts,
I suppose I can’t say they’re wrong,
but I am drawn by what is tough,
by challenges stressful and long,
and without doubt it’s made me strong.
When I got into my twenties
I decided I would compete,
the mountains became home to me,
and the rocky trails I would beat,
until blisters toughened me feet.
The first races did not go well,
though I can say I wasn’t last,
I kept my feet and never fell,
was dedicated to my task,
each race became more and more fast.
Started getting top ten places,
even got third place now and then,
became known at all the races,
they knew I’d be there pushing them,
steel sharpens steel, men challenge men.
And everybody had their tricks,
to shave those seconds of their time,
lighter shoes, ways to lose weight quick,
diets that made systems align,
all this ran around in our minds.
When come the Anderson 5K
I was hoping to make my mark,
a shorter race to make my way,
maybe win it, and raise my star,
I trained hard, preparing my heart.
Come race day all the guys were there,
I had met them previously,
looked over them with patient care,
so far they had all beaten me,
a challenge I knew this would be.
There was John Sinters, the favorite,
and ‘Tak’ Jensen, tall and whip-taut,
Mark Gadello, Byron Goodnight,
all of them a victory sought,
with real skills that couldn’t be taught.
I stood amongst them, on the line,
alongside countless also-rans,
none of those stood out in my mind,
to win I had to have a plan,
to beat the top seed, or be damned.
I knew I couldn;t sprint like them,
that never had been my strong-suit,
but I knew I’d catch up again,
over distance my skills were true,
I’d win in the long run, I knew.
The gun went off, and so did we,
jockeying along the trail,
I did a quick jog, quite steady,
to push harder quick was to fail,
a desperate run to no avail.
The kilometers kept passing,
one by one the runners fell back,
but I was much more long-lasting,
steadily advanced on the track,
my discipline would never crack.
Would not be long until the front
came into view, and I could push,
would see then my strategy done,
keep going until it was too much
to ever catch me in a rush.
CONTINUES IN PART II.
Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2022
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