Thanksgiving Day Run
Except for coming up five minutes short of the requisite hour -- just about the time it would have taken to do a Rocky Neck loop (more about that later) -- the annual Thanksgiving morning run went off hitch-less.
Thirty runners showed up at the Bass Rocks tennis courts parking lot by 8 a.m. on a shorts and light long sleeve shirt day. Dick Sampson, who was there at the beginning when the Connors brothers, John and Austin, started the run about 35 years ago was back for more. So was Austin who lives a few houses down Beach Street from the parking lot --- why did you think the run started there? So was J.D. MacEachern who was also around at the beginning. But his running days are over now so he waves us off at the start like a coach.
Among the first timers, Carrie Parsi, new to the Cape. Kandy Roberts and her husband Rich Salit were up from Rhode Island for the holiday and a run with their buddy Pilates guru Laurie Fleming. Peter Sheedy was making a comeback and running again with his sister Deb and his old Mt. Washington (Mutt and Jeff) running mate shirtless Matt Curran. Peter Vadala just off a marathon and Mike Ferrrante, the Lake Placid iron man, were among us. Regulars, irregulars all. And the leader of the pack, Bob Gillis and family, Pixie and Maureen.
Across the golf course, past the late-season golfers (with Matt lobbing golf balls at the leaders just to get their attention) and onto a labyrithinian tour of East Gloucester's innards: rocks, briers, wetlands, climbs, switchbacks and a couple of circle routes. Not to mention 47.9% of the paved roads, including East Main Street, the road proclaimed enroute to"be avoided at all costs." There will be a quiz to retrace the route at a later date. The winner gets to run it on Groundhog day next year and the year after that and the year after that and...
Back to the parking lot in 55 minutes flat. 55 minutes? Where did the other five minutes go? Not to Rocky Neck that's where not. No fault of our leader Bob who from mid pack was shouting out directions to the leaders. "Rocky Neck!" Bob shouted as we bore down on the East Main Street Gloucester Stage Company/Gorton's/Whitehead Buick building from Mt. Pleasant Avenue. The pack turned left where Rocky Neck has been for years. Only to hear Peter Watson, who has been known to have done much of his most serious drinking on Rocky Neck, shout out, "No, the other way." The pack circled back away from Rocky Neck. "Don't listen to the guy from Rockport," Bob shouted out, too late. "He thinks we're going to Bearskin Neck." (I plan to run a Rocky Neck penance loop at a time to be determined-- you're invited. pw)
Another place most of us didn't go was Good Harbor beach where at least one of us was convinced that Matt Curran who grew up on the beach was planning to lead us out to Salt Island, the higher the tide the better. Marathoner Peter Vadala and Tom Paradis were last seen leading a small band of die hards toward the beach. Give us five more minutes or death.
But then we also didn't go to Rockport and its South Woods water tower and the full length of Long Beach, etc. etc., the two-hour death march that the Connor brothers led people on before turning over the leadership to Bob...who rose to the challenge quickly by leading people the length of Dog Bar Breakwater in what he concedes (and you can imagine what this means) in "less than ideal" conditions.
And so the tradition, in the footsteps of Joe Orange, Gus Saulnier, Jack Benedetto, Bob White and those of us who ran last Thursday, continues.
