Siberian Express 2005
January 8, 2005
Daily rain so far this year.
Massive flooding everywhere.
But through the night, a big surprise
I don’t believe my groggy eyes
A wet and heavy dump of snow
Spray painted trees are drooping low.
Snow-splattered mesh of chain link fences
Early birds blending their voices
Power lines coated and sagging
Snow plows salting, loudly scraping
Going to Siberian Express.
Truly the course is not a mess
Cautious driving through slushy ruts
Downing OJ, powdered donuts.
Speeding semis keep on spraying mist
Block my vision as they go past
After I find a place to park
I head to warm up near the start
The race director sends us off
A wave of runners comes to life
Racing spikes form scratching sounds
Soon bid farewell to solid ground
Canopy Of Ice Laden Trees
Crystalline twigs from last night’s freeze
Runners cheering as we run through.
Some runners yelling “Here We Go”.
Treading through snow three inches deep
Doing high knees stay on your feet.
Sprinting, stopping, slipping, climbing.
Winding, walking, and wiping out.
The stabbing shock of ice cold streams.
No jumps today, run through the streams.
Reel in runners, each one by one
Tracks become sparse from attrition.
Hanging on, picking up,
Not much longer.
Don’t fall down.
Reach deep down
Don’t lose your shoes.
Run through the chute.