Charlotte's Poetry

London’s such an iconic race:
Cutty Sark at three miles, London Bridge 
halfway, the London Eye on the way to Big Ben.

London’s best for crowds. 
In London, the crowd gets you through.
‘Go Charlotte!’ They cheer. ‘Come on! You’ve got this!’

But London’s normally too hot for me. 

 At first, you could only take one form of exercise,
some days a run, some days a walk,
laps around the block

I continued to train.
14 weeks I couldn’t run with my guide.
But I got up to seven or eight miles on my own.

Though COVID, I’ve become more confident.

Only Lichfield Cathedral on our country loop:
But there’s The Plough at Shenstone at 6.5 miles,
The Dr Johnson at 16, The Plough at Huddlesford at 23 and a half

Pasta party before at the Green Frog Café,
Friends cheering, Round Table, Ladies’ Circle, 
Drinks after at Lichfield Rugby Club in bubbles of six. 
 
In Lichfield, everyone’s there for my team.

Just like you,
I have feelings:
I laugh, I cry, I love,
I hurt. 
 
15,000 people trying to run past you,
The hills a mile up, a mile down.
 
Get to know me
you might be 
surprised.  
 
Just like you,
I have dreams:
Not going to fall,
not going to fall over now!
           
Halfway, my body hates me.   
Staten Island, Satue of Liberty, Brooklyn Bridge.
                       
I could not
do this on my 
own.
 
Just like you to 
put yourself up for a challenge:
enter yourself, try to complete, 
get to the end.
                       
6 hours 11 minutes.
Oh my God! Get me to that finish line.
 
And look at me now
Just like 
You.