The Crowhill Reverse Race

The last to depart return bottles of wine
Rippled applause as we bask in the sun
Then check the results that clearly define
Precisely how long we'll be out for our run

I peel off dry clothes, I cannot resist
The mud and the sweat that cling to my vest!
Unfold the papery pulp in my fist
And pin flattened number onto my chest

Slip into the stream for the water to dry
The longer I bathe the thicker the mud
Silver skinned fish in reverse they go by
The cold water slowly warming my blood

A sign displays "Finish" just to confuse
For it marks the commencement of this odd race
An egalitarian contest ensues
Where starting is staggered according to pace

The official removes the names from his chart
Of runners who start with pain in their face
Some prefer to lie down before they depart
Then lurch to their feet and backwards they race

I feel elated, but then comes the fall
Lungs start to heave to the beat of my heart
My watch shows the time that was pinned to the wall
The seconds diminish as off I depart

I feel the cut that changes my gait
Blood flowing up from the ground to the gash
I look for a rock to throw down my weight
The granite repairs me as quick as a flash!

Bogs swallow the mud and dry out my feet
Sweat pouring in, the insatiable pores!
Saliva is sculpted to sugary sweet
To hand to the marshall alone on the moors

I fill up my bottle from water expelled
The longer I go, the stronger I run
Mountains and moorland in which I now meld
The cramp and the effort dissolve in the sun

Lapwings hide worms in the dark peaty mound
Leaves flutter upwards, a tree is redressed
The clouds pull the shimmering rain from the ground
Sun moves in an arc to the east from the west

The race nearly done, the minutes tick back
The quick close behind, just in front, looking fine
A colourful swarm in reverse down the track
To finish together by the starting line

My number and pins are returned to the desk
From where I collect my small racing fee
A form I receive which I carefully check
With a pen to erase the facts about me

The course of the race, this year in reverse
It's made it quite different, of that I am sure
I've enjoyed it a lot, if a little perverse
And hope that last year it’s the same as before