I visited John Worgan yesterday and was encouraged to see he has lost none of the fighting spirit that he always had. He greeted me warmly and was as gracious and hospitable as ever. Funny, too. As he says, "A man with a pig’s heart valve has earned the right to be funny!"
  When a person can be self-deprecating and humorous while undergoing a long series of chemo treatments, you relax a little, get the feeling you are privileged to be in the same room with a real man. Character is measured in many ways other than speed of foot or running accomplishments, and John has long had all bases covered. He is the rare businessman who was successful financially while never sacrificing the more personal side of life.
  John crewed me from his truck on many of my BB/BS solo Hyannis.-P’town jaunts, presided a term over the CCAC, hosted many a Grand Prix race, underwrote many worthwhile Cape Cod charities, hosted Cape Cod Baseball League players, even ran the 7-mile Falmouth Road Race AFTER double knee replacement.
  He loved running, and he loves runners.
  It is wonderful to see his lovely Connie, his true partner in this race of life, loyally by his side in this time of need. If ever I saw true romance, it is these two. Like their house sign states so aptly: Gettin It Right.
  Boy, do they ever.
  The Big C and whatever else John might be fighting must be quaking its shaking nerves in its dirty hole about right now, for it has fired its heaviest artillery at these two only to see their shining faces shouting we have only just begun to fight!
  Join in and support these two wonderful members of the club and send your get well wishes to:
  John Worgan
  8 Summer Lane
  Brewster, Ma. 02631

~ Pete Stringer

Each year around this time, my thoughts turn to Boston. Writing this for the Cape Cod Athletic Club, this of course elicits a big "duh" for anyone reading and even for the person writing it.

I think of Johnny Kelley. Again, "Gee, ya’ think?"

But here’s the thing; I think of Johnny as a young man, cruising painfully home, still striding strong through the physical and emotional burn of winning and losing. I also think of him smiling in the Dennis sunshine, an old man who seemed to do nothing but look at the positive, hopeful side of life.

Read the rest of this entry…

It’s 5:30AM on Sunday, March 21st. With water bottle in hand and headlamp on, I head out the door and begin my morning long run. It’s officially been spring since 1:32PM ET yesterday but the temperature at this hour is still chilly. Regardless, it’s much better than the sub-freezing mornings of just a few weeks ago and a pair of shorts and a light, long-sleeve T-shirt suffice. I round the corner on to my first major road of the morning and head downhill to a depression between a small pond and a cranberry bog. As I approach the bottom, I hear a sound off to my right, the unmistakable chirp of the early risers of the spring peeper population. They made no sounds yesterday morning or last night but somehow they know that this morning it is spring and they’re attacking it with all of their gusto. It’s uncanny how a small amphibian is able to detect subtle changes in light and temperature and know that it’s the equinox. Perhaps the peepers are more technically adept than we imagine.

Read the rest of this entry…

• A hot shower after a run seems like a novel idea.
• The car driving up behind you turns out to not be a white van and it doesn’t toot at you several times as it drives past.
• People look at you strangely when you change in public.
• It’s unusual to not see runners in tutus or pink wigs.
• There is food other than Power Bars, gels, Gatorade and Dunkin’ Donuts.
• Jeans are too formal.
• You wake up at 3am to go for a run.
• A day with only one run is a rest day.
• You’re uncomfortable sleeping in a bed and have to spend the night in the car to find that contorted, twisted position that’s just right.
• All the cars that drive by don’t have writing on them.
• People actually work at town hall buildings or go to school at schools.
• You have absolutely no recollection of where that $400 worth of Timberland gear came from.
• You now describe the White Mountains as “moderately hilly.”
• Your arms are really light without a watch, GPS, water bottle, flash light and relay bracelet.
• Complete strangers can become close family within 24 hours.

Reach The Beach is a 200(+/-) running relay race across the state of New Hampshire. Held in the middle of September, it starts in the Franconia area of the White Mountains and ends at Hampton Beach. Teams of up to 12 runners rotate through 3 or more legs of 2 to 9 miles over the course of race. The winning teams typically finish in just over 21 hours while the slower teams can take up to 36 hours to complete the journey. For more information, visit the Reach The Beach website.

Where to start? I don’t ask this to simply recognize that I see so many good things in front of me that I don’t know which one to address first. I say it more for the fact that, unlike the races or the runs that we all engage in so regularly, there is no real “start” here, merely a continuation of something very good.