Poker Run

Two teams waited at opposite ends, eyes fixed on the foam tags scattered in the distance. Each tag held a poker symbol — numbers, suits, strategy in disguise. At the whistle, one runner from each side sprinted forward, dodging, swerving, reaching. But waiting at the midline was a defender with one goal: rip the band, ruin the run. Sometimes they got through. Sometimes the tag dropped inches from the base. Round after round, teammates rotated in — some fast, some slippery, all determined. It wasn't just about grabbing tags. It was about building the right hand — a pair here, a straight there — every decision worth points. By the 13th run, shouts turned into plans, and runners into tacticians. It stopped being about speed. It became about how smart you played the hand you were dealt.

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