I toiled through day, through dark, through rain,

Over many hours, I pushed through pain.

And there you were through all that time

Your happy support bringing to the line.

You cooked, you prepped, you endured your pain

Set aside yourself for my own gain.

And still you claim it is “my win” -

It’s not you know, you awesome thing!

And “back to normal” I realise,

The parallel before my eyes:

You are now, and ever will be

The life supporter for lil’ ol me.

Thank you my love.

You gave me that look as you passed me back there

With your lycra-clad perfectness, nose in the air,

With my mud-spattered shoes, to hair salt-crusted and spikey,

I’m hardly a poster for Asics or Nike.

But I didn’t see you in the dark of the night

With the stars spilling forth their diamond-cold light,

Out pounding the frost-hardened trail at Naseby,

Or Northburn, or Bedrock, with like-minded crazies.

While the hours and the kays piled up into numbers

You can’t comprehend - let alone stumble.

Where the milers are plodding, their spirits uplifted

Inspiring and humbling - “I’m just doing fifty”.

So excuse me for ruining your running perfection

You can’t tell my story just from outwards reflection

I’ll be off in a minute, I’ll just suck down this gel then I’ll smile and wave

As I cinch up my pack and head out for the hills and the next 50 kays

You can judge all you want, and look down on me too

But I know what I’ve done, and what I can do;

For I can do anything I set my mind to

That’s what being an ultra-runner does to you.

You gave me that look as you passed me back there

A whole different look from the same time last year,

A look of disbelief, mixed with admiration,

Like I’m suddenly someone worthy of attention!

But from Marty to Darren and all in-between

We milers are just people, pursuing their dream;

To challenge yourself out there on the trail

Through rain, snow, sun, mud, cold, and howling gale;

Around the side of the mountain where the wild things are

Was your soul touched by that hawk? by that tree? By that star?

Did the frost-rimmed pine needles so far from the norm,

And the ice-bound ponds both make your heart warm ?

With sounds of frogs, and water race in your ear,

Did you churn out some laps without worldly care?

If you got this and more - why we carried Kevin’s number,

Then you’re equally worthy – you’re a trail runner.

In the inky night I met a man

Around the back of Coalpit Dam,

His skin was dark his eyes were bright

Determination strong in his sight

His body sore, he knew the score

But knew not what fate had in store.

Pushing for time he’d keep grinding away

And let the outcome fall where it may.

In the early morn I met a man

Flashing past as a fast thing can

Sailing over “the insignificant hump”

As if it were just a tiny bump.

The sounds of nature in his ear,

The chasing pack his only fear.

In the aid station tent I met a lass

Short on stature, big on sass!

Hacking up green stuff from her lungs

“Third time lucky” just went down the bung.

At the top of the hill I met a man

Another shot added and “in the can”

Observer, recorder, the lens and the need

To capture the image, freeze-framing our deeds.

In pit station lane I met a man

Counting hours still ahead on more than one hand,

Quietly certain and patience his boon,

Destined for the wooden spoon.

At the finish line I met a man

Happy grin, handshake, buckle and (Speights) can,

He and his wife go to great pains

For all of us to live our dreams.

At the town hall I met a crowd

Happy/disappointed, sore, and loud,

Reliving the feats, rejoicing victory

Inspiring next adventures reveries.

And through it all I met my love

Provider of food and the occasional “shove”

When resolve was flagging, when spirit was weak

She was right there to “give it a tweak”.

Through months of training, and run-focussed “do”

Your backing was total - the buckles yours too.

You sent the news - a soul has passed

Our age and active - how on earth?!.

We know not what the future holds

But life gets shorter as we grow old.

The loss of one so real, so sharing,

Says life is for living, so live it daring.

Live it large & wild, exploring, cheering;

Live it loving - helping, caring.

Like his heart that touched us all

A humble spirit, now free to soar.

We knew him briefly though intensely

Heart to heart, powerful, gently.

On rugged trails in wild places

Kindred souls of different faces;

That’s where we’ll go, that’s where you’ll be,

Gentle soul – come run with me.

. . .

I stood with you on a mountain

Sweat flowing, heart pumping,

Magnificence spread before us.

We didn’t speak but we communicated:

Like-hearts, our spirits bonded.

On the trail, we all are one.

On the trail, we will meet again.

RIP Kevin Foyle 2015

I run. All I have to do is run.

Keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Turning out the laps. Doing the distance.

Every time around I see you.

You clap, cheer. A word of encouragement.

Thinking of what you need to do for your runner.

You guess what clothes, food, drinks they might want

And have it ready. Even when they don't know themselves!

You brave the cold, the hot, the dark.

Endure the crazy moods of a person under stress

While staying positive. Let it roll off.

While we move through it, you are tied to your post.

Your resilience is tested

Your stamina too.

And at the end, the world sees the runner

And you are in the background

Unnoticed perhaps. Unacknowledged.

But we runners know.

We appreciate.

The unselfishness. The gift of yourself.

Thanks be to the supporters.

And so we gather

The annual pilgrimage

We meet

Re-meet

Well met

The annual pilgrimage

One to each, each to all.

The legends; the everyday heroes,

From the fastest 200 k'er

To the 60km teams and all in between

Each at their own pace

Run their own race

For we all are at our own place:

Even the smallest pebble casts a long shadow

At the Naseby finish line.

A greeting; a word, or two, or more

But even a single word

Says more than a world of talk,

For we are family

A tribe of tribes

And the humanness shines out

From each and all.

The special tribe

The Naseby family.

When sun, rain, snow and glittering ice are the order of the day

When ground is concrete hard and slushy mud

When gravel and pine, frames grit and mind

When elbow's muddied and knee is bloodied

When the smile on your dial is bigger than the miler

When bonds of seconds last a lifetime

When deeds are legend and one is prouder of the others

When you know this krayzie bunch is your chosen family

When the ode doesn't rhyme and nobody minds(!)

It must be Naseby time.

August end

South we wend

The frozen lake and trees;

Nights so cold

The coke is froze

And breath chills to a wheeze.

But stars shine forth

Above the course

The trail of joy and pain;

The challenge set

The challenge met

Testing self and what we gain.

But oh what news?

Disaster looms!

A world of viral trouble;

Keeps us apart

Blocked from the start

No-Go the Naseby Bubble.

We wail and curse

Tears fall on earth

Teeth gnashed in pure frustration;

But through it all

Not how we fall

But how we rise in liberation.

For this can't last

And we'll surpass

This challenge set before us;

A different “fun”

Not your normal run

This Covid mental darkness.