Standing in the corral with my supershoes and singlet
I wonder if I have the things I need, my mind is mingled
My bib is on, my nipples taped, my car key on my shoelace
My belt is filled with gels and chews my Garmin set for race pace

And all the weeks I had to get up shortly after five
The intervals and fartlek that may help me stay alive
And then there was an LSD on every Saturday
My foam roller, electrolytes and so much more to pay

It ís a BQ so my MP will be hard and fast
In fact I need a PB if I want this dream to last
Just hold the cadence up the HR down and keep my wit
And trust my training, do the plan – a gradual neg’tive split.

The time has come and all the crowded runners fit or fat
Are counting back from ten and then the gun, I cross the mat
At least its not a DNS, nor DNF I hope
Unless I bonk and do the death march on the final slope

But halfway through my glutes and hammies speak to me and say
What are you doing crazy cow slow down or you will pay
Around mile twenty-three my calves my quads, my shins and I 
We enter then the pain cave and I feel that I could die

But all those dark dark mornings on the endless strip of tar
The tempo runs, the strides, and every hard-won battle scar
Now come together on this day of reckoning and fly
Me to the final line and yes the highest Runners High.