‘Twas on the 30th day of March in the year of twenty-over-ten
When a band o’ drouchit misfits met by Camperdoon gates
The daffies were pokin’ their yelly heids above the fray
On that balmy, nay barmy spring (yer jokin) day.
The heavens were open, the wind blew strong
The runners got running, one by one
Gerard ,why did ye start me with RICKY?
Any dang fool kens he is far too er... quick-ee
for me
Runners ahead, but I’ ll no catch em
They’re running too strong and I can’t match em
Ricky’s but a memory, he’s oot o sight
Why did eh come oot o the hoos the night?
But ma second wind is coming now
The woods are sheltered, ma face is aglow
Doon the Gourdie, wi flailin’ hands
Nae sign o others ... but who’s this mon?
Eh ken that bounding stride
(that causes wimmin tae run and hide)
With graceful ease and foolish grin
Its Doc Stewart running the rang way UP the hill!
With nary a chuckle ma feet keep poundin’
Runners ahead, c’mon, c’mon (ma breath is soundin’)
Up the wee hill to the road and the end is in sight
Chasin’ a girl tae the finishin’ line
Ged, Malcolm and Gerard countin’ us in
Mark wi the choccies (damn, how did ah miss HIM?!)
Ye wouldnae believe on a night such as this
That Dundee Road Runners could find such bliss
William Gemstone McGonagall, 2010