Race One of the Grand Pricks Series, #6
~A View From The Back Of The Pack~
This is the first installment in the twenty race series. Most running mags who report on these races center around who won and quick times. This blog revolves around the seamy underbelly in each race; the also-rans: the has-beens: the crippled: the infirm: the insane.
These are my people. Read on.
Khoury's Summer Steamer, July 9th, 2006, Somerville, MA. 4.1 miles
This race is one of the Somerville Road Runners premier races. The race almost guarantees that there will be heat and humidity at the start along with more than a few more coins added to the clubs bank account.
Well today was no different. Moments before the start it was well into the eighties and humidity to match and close to 300 running.
But lets back up a minute and get a sense of perspective of from where I'm coming from.
Before I launch into the race recap I should mention a few things.
It has been two years since the last Rat Series and much has changed.
For me anyway.
The previous series brought me to my knees (physically) compounded with the fact that I bought "The Money Pit" (rent the movie, I'm living proof of the phenomena), became a grandfather at 48, my marriage dissolved, alienated my kids, AND spent some time in Detox .
Not necessarily in that order.
A lot of professional counseling, a couple of therapists and a mediator or two, I've regained a firm foothold on reality and regaining lost ground.
I won't slam Alcoholics Anonymous, but the "give yourself to god" thing doesn't work for me who spent twelve years in catholic school. I spent a year attending weekly meetings and did (on my terms) the twelve steps.
What I learned was: The only person who will help you, is yourself and hanging out with room full of people scared of their next drink/or fix...well their looking for a reason to drink/get high in my opinion.
What helped me over the addiction hump was a website: www.rational.org It clarified the behavior and I was able to move on.
In short: Do you ever hear a voice in your head telling you to do things? Bad things? Check out the site.
Thanks Dupe.
In the wake of all this however, was some seriously damaged relationships some repairable, some not.
I'm happy and ready launch into the series...
Hmmm...more destructive behavior....What's that little voice saying?...
Enough soul bearing...lets move get back to the race recap.
The day begins with me going over the previous series results to refresh my tattered memory of the names and faces.
Good friend Dave Malliaros picks me up and we make it to Somerville with a hour to spare.
The first person I spy is RAT Mastermind Pete Buhl, creator of the point scoring system that, for now has every one believing it attains parity across the ages. Don't let'em fool ya. He's an undercover agent for the FBI.
King Rat- Pete Wallan has the GPS #6 series schedule posted and it has attracted a lot of attention. Nurse Ratchet is still looking for this guy.
A quick RAT inventory reveals a few gaping holes in who’s here and who’s not from last years series:
No: Mike Menovich (no word, this man could win it all this year)
Jack (the Dripper) Foley (hip replacement, probably hanging off a ladder somewhere on the south shore, paint bucket in one hand, swatting wasps with the other, no body can puke like he did after a spectacular race finish, he was that fast)
Paul McDermott (Surgery, eighth wonder of the world-ask his doctor! He has virtually no circulation in his legs, yet he passed me at the Boston Marathon this spring, talk about tough!)
Eric Levin (too much veggies, not enough meat, this man can run...and he did, away from this series)
Tom Micka (gout, too much meat, not enough veggies, talk about tough: this man feeds his guests to his dogs!)
Rick Baccus (he played the rich guy on Gilligan's Island, probably on another "three hour tour")
Jennifer Rivers (found a husband, nice girl, the lucky guy)
Dave Audet (something about lawyers, guns and money, anybody needing some legs broken, here's your man, probably in the witness protection program though) to round out last years top 40.
Greg Billington was at the race...cheering at the top of Winter Hill. He could a been a contender, he is that fast!
It was like a reunion of sorts, runners speculating who’s gonna be contenders for the Bayko Trophy (plaque).
Lets get to the race recap.
The three hundred or so file out onto Broadway and seed ourselves accordingly.
Everyone is yapping away as we suddenly realize someone is signing the national anthem. Hats are quickly jerked off as everyone begins signing along softly while the person belting it out is really doing his best barroom scream.
With that the guns sounds and we’re off.
I line up with J.G. Schneider waay in the back and we cruise along topping Winter Hill at a leisurely 8:30 pace.
Mile two I pick up the pace and Jims right there, like a bad penny I can’t shake the guy, so I throw him an elbow and redouble my effort, it’s not long before he returns fire yanking my shorts down, not to be outdone I return the favor and here we are like two school kids at recess, pushing, shoving, startled runners navigate a wide course around two bare-chested grandfathers bitch-slapping each other with our shorts around our ankles, clearly alarmed at the prepubescent behavior.
We regain our senses, hitch up our shorts, and re-pass these blodders and by mile three he has the better of me and trundles past. You see, I spent the previous day churning out a ten-mile training run in the morning heat while Jim spent the day lolling poolside being pampered by his beautiful wife.
Just ahead, Jim has his sights on his next victim, Dave Martin. Luckily for Dave someone calls out from the crowd, “Go Dave! Go Jim!” It doesn’t take Dave more than a millisecond to realize who “Jim” is and beats him by one stride.
The post race scene is strictly an industrial-urban atmosphere with the party set in an alley behind the bar, old broken asphalt, shattered glass, rusting ten-foot chain link fence surround us. Inside the newly redecorated interior reveal a bar filled end to end with ice cold cups of Sam Adams Summer Ale with Hot Dogs and Hamburgers on the grill.
LIFE IS GOOD.