course was 7�. This one's closer to eight."
"Where is our
next race?" Rose asked as we drove back to the Cape.
Ware," I joculared. "It's Holden."
not," she moaned, "start that again."
But between Ware
and Holden was a week on Cape Cod. Our cottage stood only 48 seconds, as the
sprinter flies, from Massachusetts Bay. The beach was rockier and the water
colder than back home in Indiana, and 3-year-old Laura said, "The water has
sugar in it." So much for swimming. Once during the week we visited Hyannis
and, in an act of valor unparalleled in the history of American tourism, made
no effort to invade the Kennedy compound. Another day we visited Plymouth and
approached an impressive pavilion. Kevin seemed sufficiently awed until we
looked inside and he saw it was only a rock. So much for history.
mentioned my Mayflower ancestry to Stu Adams when I worked out with him later
that day. Politely he inquired who the ancestor might be, and my chest swelled
with pride as I answered, "George Soule."
right?" replied Stu. "He's one of our ancestors, too. We have seven
Mayflower ancestors, you know." Scratch genealogy.
while I was on the Cape I ran with Stuart along the Cape Cod Canal. The
prevailing winds made outward passage difficult but would push us on our return
home. Stu would shout apologies for his slowness and invite me to run on ahead
alone. Meanwhile I would be running so hard trying to match his pace that I
could not answer back and would finally crumple on his lawn with my eyes
blanked out like Little Orphan Annie's. One afternoon I spotted another figure
running along the opposite bank of the canal. "That's Mike Bigelow,"
said Stu and explained that Bigelow, another B.A.A. marathoner, lived at the
other end of the canal and on the opposite shore. While Stu ran in one
direction, Mike chugged in the other. They would pass like ships in the night
with only an occasional shouted hello serving as a link between them.
That Saturday we
found Holden (about 40 miles west of Boston) without difficulty. So,
unfortunately, did Buschman. I knew I would have difficulty beating Ralph on
conditioning, but perhaps I could beat him by wile. "I know now why you had
stomach cramps in your last race," I told Buschman when I greeted him at
the starting line.
that?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.