Twas the night before Kona, when all through the house, Not a creature was training, not even Sovonick or mouse. The compression socks were hung by the chimney with care, In hopes that precious Kona finishes soon would be there.
The triathletes were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of personal records danced in their heads. And L in her timing chip, and I in my Headsweats cap, Had just settled down for a long pre-race nap.
When out in transition there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tripped over the trainer, foam roller, then crash.
The moon on the breast of the wave-whipped white sand, gave the lustre of midday to objects so grand. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a tricked-out tri bike, and lots of tri gear.
With a little tan driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be Chris McCormack. More rapid than eagles his courser they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Lieto! Now, Raelert! Now, Potts and Alexander! On, Clif Shots! On, Specialized! WTC and Under Armour! To the top of Energy Lab! To the top of the wall! Now dash away! Queen K! Dash away all!"
As lava fields that before the burning sun fry, When they meet with an obstacle, towards Ali'i they fly. So up to the finish line the racers they flew, With bottles filled with Ironman Perform and some Gu.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard through the tide, The prancing and pawing of each runner's fast stride. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, Down the chute Macca came blazing by with a bound.
He was dressed all in spandex, from his head to his foot, And his kit were all tarnished with salt, sweat, and soot. A bundle of sponges he had flung on his back, And he looked like a champ, so far ahead of the pack.
His eyes - how they twinkled! His dimples - how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! His smack-talking mouth was drawn up like a bow, And the drool on his chin was as white as snow.
The package of Gu he held tight in his teeth, And the smoke from his racing flats encircled his head like a wreath. He had a slim face and a very flat belly, That got ripped when he laughed, not loose like my jelly.
He was sun-kissed and toned, a right jolly old Aussie, And I laughed when I saw him, his smile so white and so glossy. A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me to know I had many miles ahead.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And thanked all his sponsors, then turned with a jerk. And laying his finger aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the podium he rose!
He sprang to his bike, to his fellow teammates gave a whistle, And away they all flew like a super fast missile. But I heard him exclaim as he rode out of sight, "Happy racing to all, and to all a goodnight!"