Sorry everyone, I couldn’t help but re-write this!
“TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE a Mud run , and all through the place,
not a creature was stirring, ‘cept those fixing to race.
The race bags were packed into car trunks with care,
in the hopes that the morning would soon bring fair air.
The runners, now sleeping, would rise all-too-early from bed,
while visions of barbed wires and electric danced in their heads.
The runners all sleeping and sound in their dreams,
would soon be facing ropes and muddy balance beams…
In the morn’ their alarms went off, and made much a clatter,
It was quite normal, with nothing the matter.
Away to the start lines they drove like the flash,
and after picking up packets, donned bibs like a sash.
The start line apparent, the start-time drawing near,
when what should appear to their eyes and their cheer?
A jolly round man, whom they’d been reading all year.
His orange-wrapped head made him simple to spot,
and they all knew right off, that lacking a friend on this course they now were NOT
His eyes were aglow as the challenges stated,
This was one mudder who’s thirst could never be sated.
They knew in an instant they’d not lose their way,
for running in their wave was the great MuddyJ
All chests swelled with pride as their nation’s anthem played,
and excitement grew near as all fears were allayed.
“NO QUIT-IN HERE” THE CROWD AND MC TOUTED
THEN “A-ROO” AND “HO-AHH” WERE ALSO WELL-SHOUTED.
The seconds clicked by and the appointed time came,
The starting gun sounded, the course wasn’t tame.
All runner’s became one mind, with no sex and no name,
Hands were all held out, to aid in beating the game.
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky;
Up over steep walls the runners, they flew,
Crawled under the tunnels, in darkness and mud too.
As the runners ran on with the course getting tougher,
The obstacles were harder, the terrain so much rougher,
Fatigue showed it’s face,putting some in their place,
While others, they reveled, in the challenge’s pace
Up ahead a short distance they saw Muddy J,
A true barefoot madman,scaling a mountain made out of hay.
His chest and back streaked with mud and with grime,
He was helping others complete the course, no care for his time.
His brown eyes were alight with the thrill of this hell,
and the runner’s all realized, this was about fun, not just skill
They ran to the mound’s base, reaching out for his hands,
and helped them he did, as if they were the best of his friends.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his hips,
and lifted up to his level they were, just that quick!
They took up his lead, laying down in his place,
then helped other runners to conquer this space.
They soon ran on, their helping overtaken,
the finish line loomed, let none be forsaken…
Every race has it’s end, a challenge to fear,
and no matter your pace, it quickly draws near…
Tough Mudder has Electric, the Rock’N Run Fire…
The Spartan Race beats you as it’s final ire…
At the end they spotted their friend MuddyJ,
and they tried to say thanks for the help granted that day…
He waved of the gratis, stating that none was needed,
“Just pay if forward, now that it’s been seeded”
He donned his new race shirt and ran to his Z
Home to his office, to report this to thee….
His stereo pumped retro, as his pedal was floored,
It seemed in the 80’s his musical tastes were moored
But we heard him exclaim, as he sped just for fun,
Muddy Christmas to all, and to all a good run.