Cumberland Fell Runners

The twelve races have been chosen,
And our committee for this year,
Have came up with some fine events,
Nothing much to fear!

Race number one, second Sunday in March,
And the path’s disappeared in the gloom,
Many a headless chicken could be seen,
On the flanks of old Black Combe.

The all new Glaramara, deep in the heartland of Borrowdale,
Provides us with race number two,
Don’t ask me anything about this one,
Because I haven’t got a clue.

The spring days will be panning out now,
And a huge field looks on the cards,
With hundreds circuiting the Coniston fells,
Like the changing of the guards.

Team captain Jack King’s Sailbeck race,
Can command the upmost respect,
No use charging off in this one,
And bonking out, before Rigg Beck.

The first long race of the championship,
Is the twenty miler Duddon,
I know that sounds an awful long way,
But this race is a good un.

Sam, "n" Geoff have taken over the Coledale,
What a labour of love.
This towering, ridgeback route,
Must have been a gift from above.

Our third championship race in June,
Is the aptly named Arnison Dash,
This is a fast "guide" style race,
But you won’t win any cash.

Race number eight could be the making of you,
Get your focus firmly set,
For a sterner test than the Wasdale,
I haven’t encountered yet!

The Kinniside crowds will make you welcome,
As it’s the "Two Tops" the week after,
Are we getting the hang of this fell running thing
Or getting bloody dafter?

The Howgills rise up tall and majestic,
With the M6 sprawled out below, like a black tarmac ribbon,
The Sedbergh commands the respect,
That all Championship races are given.

Summer’s all but gone now,
And the Three Shires Race has come round again,
Just a jaunt over Weatherlam, and Blisco,
But Lingmoor’s where you feel the pain.

Our curtain comes down, along with the leaves of Autumn,
And it’s the annual race up the Screes,
It’s from a different "boozer" now,
But you’ll conquer this one with ease.

Thats yer lot folks,
Go and plan your season out just right,
Then earn the admiration of your club mates,
As you stride out on Presentation Night.

For the championship remains,
The heart and lungs of our club,
And many a splendid summer blossom,
Started its year as no more than a shrub.