I must go down to the fields again, to the trails so rough and wild
And all I ask is strong legs and the day to be soft and mild;
And the dry tracks and a flat route and the green leaves shaking,
And rose-tipped clouds in a clear blue sky, and a bright dawn breaking.
I must go down to the fields again, for the call of the running way,
Is a wild call and a clear call that always, we must obey;
And all I ask is my feet landing light, and my breathing to be steady
And the long rest on the Injury Couch, ensuring that I am ready.
I must go down to the fields again, to the running wild and free.
To the rooks in their nests, and the grazing sheep, and the distant hills to see;
And all I ask is to do this run, for the feeling of being alive,
Just watch for a post tomorrow, to see that I have survived
Apologies to John Masefield
I did survive...post follows