Yesterday I took  advantage of the weather and did my 7th annual solo run for my fave organization Big Brothers Big Sisters Cape Cod. Good timing for the weather, bad timing for the scant two weeks recovery from the Cape Cod Marathon, where I had a 4:32, which is all I can expect at my age, it seems. But also because I ran into a detour in Brewster on 6A which added about four miles to the course, as well as the time spent in me futilely trying to circumvent the length of the detour by getting across the adjacent marsh (the boggy brooks and streams of a marsh always look more fordable from a distance that they actually are up close!)

Cape Cod Marathon dealt its usual tough course & slow times Sunday to all its victims.

Amongst ultrarunners spotted there were:
Mike Menovich (Challenge Cup 100K) — 3:26
Zsuzsanna Carlson ( CCFrozen Fatass champ) — 3:29
Bob Eckerson (Western States) — 4:00
Pete Stringer (Leadville, etc.) — 4:32
Lee Dickey (101 miles at ATL, etc.) 4:34
Rosemary Rusin (Vt100) — 5:02 in her 25th Cape Cod Marathon!
Kim Walsh (N/50) — 5:07
Sean Coutinho (Vt50) — 5:08
Jack Whitehead (Maine 50) — 5:19

  Bob Jensen announced that the 2011 edition of the Cape Cod Frozen Fatass 50K will be held on Feb. 12th this year. Start time is 7:30, a half hour later than usual. All the fun stuff remains the same, including the race against the incoming tide, pointy rocks, swirling dunes, free seaplane parking, and new & improved dancing girls.
  Speaking of which, when I was finishing the marathon Sunday on my weary old legs and my normal delusional brain, I THOUGHT I saw a dancing female gorilla at mile 25.5, replete with a chiffon tutu, ankle bracelets, and playing a ukelele…wots this? me brain tried to function but no answers were a-coming. It was only when crossing the finish line that my darling cute "it’s all in fun !" jokester wife Jane unveiled herself of the top and revealed her winsome smile and planted the congratulatory kiss.
  For someone who thought he saw a marching band at mile 92 at Western States back in 2001, you would think I would be getting used to having these visions..

~ Pete Stringer

  I have been running a beginner’s walk/run class at the local high school for a dozen years now. That is, a Spring class and a Fall class, both comprising 12 weeks, wherein we start at the level that most middle-aged couch potatoes can handle, and move on up incrementally from there. I call it my caterpillar-to-butterfly metamorphosis show, acted out in 12 progressive stages to a final curtain closing three mile road race, often coinciding with one of the several Turkey Trots hosted on Thanksgiving Day in various towns here on the Cape.

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  Ultrarunner Michael Wardien won the Hartford Marathon yesterday in 2:24:38.
  What was very refreshing for me was that Bob Jensen of Cotuit, age 57 or 58, qualified for Boston by running 3:42. This was a sweet reward after many years of trying to qualify, and represented a personal record by a full 30 minutes. He said his secret was losing another 16 lbs. "Jiggling is definitely out now," he said.
  Many of you know Bob as the colorful laugh-a-minute co-race director of the Cape Cod Frozen Fatass 50 K that we hold every winter here over at Sandy Neck.
  He is a great believer in the "if at first you don’t succeed"… code. He attempted quite a few 100s before I had the sweet pleasure of watching him come up Rt. 66 in Oklahoma (next-to-last!) back in 2006 and finish his first 100 after MANY tries at Vermont and Umstead, etc. Bob has been the volunteer crosscountry coach at the St. Francis Xavier middle school in Hyannis for many years, and runs t he most fun practices I have ever watched in sixty years of observing running programs. One only has to watch 42 kids play the running game of Lambs & Lions in an afternoon track practice to fully appreciate how skinny kids, fast kids,average kids, and yes, slow kids and fat kids can ALL have a blast while practicing their running together.
  There is plenty of sweat and huffing and puffing involved, but no work!
  Pete Stringer

  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.

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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.

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