T’was a week ago this Saturday
A most beautiful morning I have to say
One perfect to run a blistering pace
With a sinister smile upon my face
During the Healthy Kidney 10k.
I was sure that I would dominate the whole way
Sprinting up hills while others just faded away
But as it would be
Something happened to me
And this wasn’t to be my day.
All was well during miles 1 to 3
Unleashing my legs and setting them free
Laying waste to the Central Park course
Like an unstoppable Sasquatchian force
But what happened next who could foresee.
Then somewhere between miles 3 and 4
I was assaulted by something I now abhor
T’was a tiny, insignificant little fly
One that my eye simply couldn’t spy
And, yes, you could say I’m a bit sore.
The little bastard turned kamikaze
And proceeded to fly directly at me
Steadily running 6:15s heading south
He took aim at my open mouth
And proceeded to exercise its hostility.
WHAM! A direct hit!
And my body was thrown into a fit
I began to dry heave and gag
Doubled over, I began to sag
Firing off round after round of spit.
To the man looking at me with a curious eye
I pointed to my mouth gasping, “Fly!”
He had no idea what I was saying
With the grotesqueness I was displaying
Which is too bad cause I felt like I could die!
Once I pulled myself together
It was time to decide whether
I should fight to regain my goal
The one the fly so villainously stole
Or if I had reached the end of my tether.
It was impossible to deny
The efficacy of the fly
And his attack on me
Which quite obviously
Made my body completely fry.
As I fought to regain my previous pace
I was then forced to face
The inevitable truth of the matter
That my stride could get no flatter
And this was not going to be my race.
My body felt totally tapped
My race plan completely scrapped
But I battled on right through the finish line
Cursing the fly’s damn bee-line
Still feeling like complete crap.
I finished in 40:41
But my work was far from done
As I turned back onto the course
Cheering a tour de force
Enjoying this fun in the sun.
So what does one learn from such a tale
Of running bliss, despite the fail
To always keep a watchful eye
For the next errant, vindictive fly
And its overwhelming desire to assail!