The week the legs died

This is what I thought about on this weekend’s 15 mile long run. It seemed natural to substitute Mickey Mouse for Satan in the song. Go figure. I sung it to myself to the tune of Don Mclean’s “American Pie.”

A long long time ago, when I can still remember how that PR time used to seem reasonable…
And I knew if I had one chance,
that I could finish marathon easy as I could dance,
and maybe I’d be happy for awhile.
But August made me sweat with every mile I completed.
Bad news on the speed work, I couldn’t take one more step.
I can’t remember if I cried when I saw all of those slow split times,
But something touched me deep inside,
the day the dream PR died.

So bye, bye dream PR time,
drove my feet through the street
but my feet they just died.
And good ol’ boys were drinking protein and nuun singing
this’ll be the day that I run,
this’ll be the day that I run.

Did you write the book of training plans and do you have faith in elite runners above?
Well if Runner’s World tells you so.
Now do you believe in less is faster
can fewer miles save your tired legs
and can you teach me how to run real fast?
Well I know that you’re in love with him ’cause I saw you run walking intervals
You both ran 3:1, man I dig those walk intervals!
I was a stupid runner
With a pink tank top and chafing shorts
But I knew I was out of luck, the day the dream PR died.

I started wheezing,
bye, bye dream PR time,
pushed my feet through the street
but my feet they just died.
And good ol’ boys were drinking protein and nuun singing
this’ll be the day that I run,
this’ll be the day that I run.

Now for 4 months we’ve been training on our own,
and blisters grow fat on running feet but that’s not how it should be
When the big mouse sang for runners in corral b in an outfit he borrowed from Ratatouille
And a voice that came from who knows where
And while the mouse was looking down,
the runners crept into a better corral
The fireworks were set off, no runner would return
And while Lisa ran an 8 minute mile
Kellie sang “A Friend Like Me” in the dark,
the day the PR dream died.

We started wheezing,
bye, bye dream PR time,
pushed my feet through the street
but my feet they just died.
And good ol’ boys were drinking protein and nuun singing
this’ll be the day that I run,
this’ll be the day that I run.

Helter Skelter in a summer swelter,
the runners flew out throwing off their sweaters
8 miles to go they were falling fast
Some runners fell foul on the grass
While some just tried to pass
With the Mouse on the sidelines, in a mask

Now the halfway mark smelled rank with doom
As the DJ played some obnoxious tune
We all tried to dance
Oh but we really couldn’t dance

The runners tried to bob and weave
but the others refused to yield
Do you recall what was revealed
the day, the PR dream died?

We started wheezing,
bye, bye dream PR time,
pushed my feet through the street
but my feet they just died.
And good ol’ boys were drinking protein and nuun singing
this’ll be the day that I run,
this’ll be the day that I run.

And there we were all in one line
An entire corral looking for wine
With no time to stop and drink
So come on Jack be nimble, Jack be quick,
Jack Flash got stuck in a crap corral
‘Cause Jack didn’t submit proof of time

And as Jack watched the other runners
His hands were clenched in fists of rage
No one in this hell
Could break Jack’s rage spell

And as the time climbed high into the night,
To kill all the PR delight,
I saw the Mouse laughing with delight,
The day, the PR dream died.

He was singing,
bye, bye dream PR time,
drove my feet through the street
but my feet they just died.
And good ol’ boys were drinking protein and nuun singing
this’ll be the day that I run,
this’ll be the day that I run.

I met a girl who sang the blues,
and I asked her for some happy news,
But she just smiled and limped away.
I went down to the sacred store where I’d bought sneakers years before,
But the man there said the time wasn’t great
And in the streets the the gu ran deep,
The runners cried and their families were relieved
But not a word was spoken,
The runners all were kind of broken.

And the three men I admired most,
the mouse, the dog, and the damn duck,
they caught the last bus for the hotel host,
the day the PR dream died.

So we were wheezing,
bye, bye dream PR time,
drove my feet through the street
but my feet they just died.
And good ol’ boys were drinking protein and nuun singing
this’ll be the day that I run,
this’ll be the day that I run.

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13 thoughts on “The week the legs died

  1. Well since I’m there singing “Friend Like Me” anyway, you might as well run with me and then it’s all my fault there’s no PR. “Blame Kellie” it’s like “Blame Canada” only more fun! 🙂

  2. Nicole, this is great. Not only did you remind me of my high school graduation ( I started a dinner singalong of this song at the reception), but you name dropped me and now it makes me feel like I’m a famous musician. 😉

    On a more serious note, you are capable of hitting a PR, but perhaps the quantity of races you are doing is what is hampering you? Maybe shoot for only doing a couple of longer races in a year, rather than so many? Or, if you are addicted to the “race vibe” maybe do some 10K and 5K to get your speeds up? I know running 10Ks was really beneficial to me in terms of improving my speeds.

    Love ya kid!

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