Twas the Night Before Christmas… and Santa’s not Skipping a Workout

Happy Christmas Eve!!! In light of the approaching holiday, I wrote (or I suppose I should say REVISED) a Christmas classic… sweaty style!

Twas the night before Christmas and all through the gym,
not a person was sweating or trying to get slim.
The towels were hung behind the counter with care,
In hopes that some exercisers would soon be there.

The treadmills were silent and powered down.
With visions of speed and going around.
And the weight room was empty of jocks making wise cracks,
The dumbbells and weight plates were set on the racks.

When out in the parking lot there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my workout to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Imagining I was racing and making a dash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my sweaty eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.

With an awfully thin driver, so lively and quick,
I knew after a moment it was a fitter St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

“Now, DASHER! now, DANCER! now, PRANCER and VIXEN!
To the fitness center! Be careful don’t fall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!”

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So into the parking lot, the reindeer they flew,
With the sleigh full of work out apparel, and St. Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I they landed so quick,
I thought for certain Santa would be carsick.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Through the front door St. Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in lycra, from his head to his toes,
I wondered why he was there and if he’d be opposed to some photos;
He had a race bib pinned to his front and his back,
And he looked like an athlete, right down to his six-pack.

His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The last of a protein bar, he held tight in his teeth,
And washed it down with a bottle of water from beneath;
He had a happy face and a very flat belly,
It no longer shook like a bowlful of jelly.

He was muscular and toned, but still a jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And turned on the treadmill; it started with a jerk.
After five miles, he wiped off his nose,
And dashed to the locker room to change his clothes.

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,