The Rime of the Ancient Sprinter (with acknowledgement to Coleridge and minus an Albatross)

Tarmac speckled with cracked ice

Like a fractured carapace,

The world turned upside down

Stars fallen from space.


Gathered again in darkness

The peloton assembling

Slayer, Judge and Lion King

Fast twitch muscles a’trembling.


A gentle cadence to depart the Hill

Words of greeting whispered gently

Like a warm duvet left behind

Before the contest starts intently.


Up the hill to Highgate Station

Old Wattmeister creaks and groans

The speed and burning effort

Make demands on aged bones.


A warm-up lap supposed to be

Now there is an old joke,

For Rapid Ben cannot wait

And very soon he gives a sharp poke.


They hurtle round into the wind

Big Mig, Pistol and Iron Mike

Taking turns on the front

Faster and faster, they urge the bike.


The sun comes up above the crescent

Mist burned away in the rising light

One more circuit to endure

Burning lactic’s searing bite.


“Break them now” thinks Wattmeister

And powers hard past the Zoo,

Cast a backward glance into the void

Sprinters scrambling, turning the screw.


Tortured sinews screaming in pain,

One left turn and then uphill

Heart rate pounding like a cannon

Precious oxygen rushing to fill

The chasm, delivering the prize of victory.










This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s