'Twas the night before the Marathon

‘Twas the night before Marathon, and all through the casa

Not a carbo was lurking, not even some pasta;

The race bibs were pinned on the singlets with care,

In hopes that a good race soon would be there;

The runners were nestled all snug in their beds,

While visions of P.R.s danced in their heads;

When out on the beach there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The sun on the breast of the new-kicked up sand

Gave the luster of mid-day to all in the land,

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear

But a Grecian man, decked out in Brooks gear.

With a perfect gait, so lively and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be Pheddip.

More rapid than eagles his mantras they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now tempos! Now speedwork! Now intervals and Long Runs!

On race flats! On Body Glide! On Compression Socks and Garmins!

To the top of the hill! Bust through that wall!

Now dash away! Dash Away! Dash away all!”

And laying a finger aside of his calf

He laced up his shoes, and stood up with a laugh.

He sprang to his feet, to the fans gave a call,

And away he ran as fast as Ryan Hall.

But I heard his exclaim, as he raced into the sun,

“Happy Marathon Day to all, and to all a good run!”