Here's what I wrote earlier when I was sheltering in the barn during the rain,
There was a young goat called Billy
who liked to play out on the hilly
he ran up and down
looking like a right clown
and everybody called him plain silly
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Here's what I wrote earlier when I was sheltering in the barn during the rain,
There was a young goat called Billy
who liked to play out on the hilly
he ran up and down
looking like a right clown
and everybody called him plain silly
The Spirit of Fellrunning
What is the spirit of fell running?
Just turning up at a race, paying a few quid, and running - Borrowing a pair of shoes off a stranger to race in - New races starting, old ones dying - Waiting for the hounds to come in before setting off - Race you to the top of that hill and back lads - Helping on a Bob Graham leg for someone you don’t know - Just being in the mountains - It takes me back to being a boy, just me and my Dad - Giving it your all, getting covered in mud – It is at odds with a risk adverse society - Juniors disappearing, come back at 40 - A desire to lose oneself in the hills, whether by design or not - It isn’t all about the racing: the racing has changed, the running hasn’t - Whether the sport grows, withers or dies. That doesn’t matter. All that matters is that the fells will always be there for those who appreciate them - A sense of place, of territory, the connection between man and the land - I’ve known him for 20 years. I don’t know what his day job is, I just know he’s a runner - The fact that you discover something new about the country, and yourself, each time you run - Feeling naked amid your surroundings - Free from the world - I can be on my Monday morning meat wagon to Central London, close my eyes and see myself bounding over Green Gable - A sense of freedom and abandonment - A tasty post-race, post-bath glass of Laphroig - The welcoming attitude that all of you show to new members - Running solo in the hills. How can that not be free spirited? - The isolation, the beauty, the slightly bonkersness of it - Some times fast, sometimes slow; sometimes alone, sometimes with company - No barriers for anyone who wants to take the sport up - The people; competitors, organisers, supporters. All are welcoming and friendly - The wilderness and the sense of the power of nature – Don’t tell me all kids are fat and lazy, just look at them go - Feeling totally alive in every nerve and sinew - The hand offered as you hesitate at a river crossing - Falling and being lifted back on my feet by two men who didn't break their stride - Where human nature and the environment meet in a friendly fight - The pint in the pub afterwards, the banter, the mates, the tales - Running past someone in full winter gear: crampons, ice axe, the lot. And I'm wearing shorts - No pins, no toilets, no entry fee, no prizes - Flagging the course, racing it, then picking up the flags again - The old guy who once raced came along to watch. Nobody realises how good he was - The fast and the slow, everyone cheering on everyone else as they race straight up and down the fell - Fatigue, fellowship, pain, beauty, and an uncomplicated relationship with nature.
What would you say?
Welcome Mr B...I like the goat theme. Don't think we've had one on this thread to date. So here another...
The Goat
One day there was a goat,
Who really liked to eat oats.
He ran around and played all day,
being all happy, and gay.
Next a dark cloud came near,
and the little billy, drank some beer.
Drunk he was, so he picked a fight,
so that little dark cloud, went amazingly bright.
Down came a thunder bolt, at that goat,
and destroyed much more, than just his coat.
The cloud ran away, back to the ocean.
The goat applied, some antiseptic lotion.
That little goat, was all scratched and bruised,
so he figured, his beer was far too brewed!
Now that goat, will be more nice,
and eat those oats, with sugar and spice.
-Rick Tankard
:D:D
Now that's really silly.
jetlag cleared now
back into poetry mode
plenty of work though