‘Twas the night before Born To Run and all through the state,
All the dirtbags were scrambling, still looking for a prom date.
For cowpies and starry skies are calling our names,
Our dignity and inhibitions are going to go up in flames.
The runners were resting, their gear was all packed,
Armed and ready with their No Talent Show act.
Their livers were prepped for the daily beer miles,
And this is our preemptive apology to all the present juveniles.
And then, suddenly, an email from Luis Escobar,
Saying all unregistered guests will be covered in tar.
The sun is setting, the hour draws near,
The excitement is palpable, the Tarahumara are already here.
There’s no doubt this weekend will be a delight,
Happy Running to all and to all a good night.
We can’t wait to see you dirtbags there! And for those not going, click here to learn more about the race.