The Last Northern Run

I wasn't convinced I was ready for another marathon
40 years since my last but the training
had been progressing well so I entered
the Last Northern Run and
there was no turning back now

The skies were grey, my shorts were tight
as I set off at a brisk but
sensible pace. Of course
we all knew there were surprises
in store such as the red bridge with
its 25% incline, followed by
the rope climb to the bottom of the pit
where tethered animatronic galadiators (sic)
lay in wait, plus free roaming canines
of the hyena variety
but I wasn't worried about them
dogs had always been my pals

Having navigated those hurdles - and the
actual staked 400m ones - I felt
a surge of adrenaline and stormed on ahead
maybe a little too fast, and for the first time
in all this giddy excitement
looked at my watch to check my pace
- in the running game we call it 'splits' -

Problem was, I'd forgotten to press 'start'
and that must have been about an hour ago
30 minutes to an hour, maybe more

I had lost all sense of time, but
hung on the runners in front of me
as we swung across the river on a pole
my Fierljeppen was on point

Water station, gel stop, bag of nuts
I was huffing and heaving, turned
the next corner into a suburban street
as the day grew dim, beyond
dim dark even, and I saw no runners
ahead or behind of me

Head back or carry on regardless
obviously the latter, as a pro,
shuffling on singing a song and
an hour maybe two maybe a quarter later

I see some lights up ahead
recognise Leeds city centre on
a Saturday night. A sigh of relief
as I'd partied here once before
91 92 something like that

My legs suddenly so weary
but I say to myself I say
look boy you can ask around and rejoin the official route
later but right now you need a drink and there's
an emergency £20 in my tight shorts so the beers
are on me, I'll just say I finished
the Last Northern Run hours ago
in a PB and the local girls
will find me funny like they used to
and we can party like it's 91 92

So thirsty so sweaty, and it's so dark