Time of the End of the Season Part VIII

By Bob Hodge

Bob Hodge grew up in Lowell and went on to graduate from Lowell High (1973) and University of Lowell (1990). He was (and still is) one the greatest runners to come out of this region. He’s also a writer whose 2020 memoir, Tale of the Times: A Runner’s Story, is available at lala books in downtown Lowell and in Kindle format from Amazon. The following is an excerpt from his novel-in-progress.

Already published:

Time episode 1

Time episode 2

Time episode 3

Time episode 4

Time episode 5

Time episode 6

Time episode 7

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Still old I go on and remember.

Old man take a look at my life dream on dream on Sadie and MJ on the beach at Chesapeake one old man dream worth having and I do and I don’t give in to my old man, carry on, carry on.

Long ago long gone lust is a many splendored thing but love hey ho there we go.

As I write and remember I know I am in this for the long haul as long as I’ve got.

I remember my young man wistfully his whimsy.

I re visit him often as past and future collide.

Five years after many trials and tribulations I did learn about love when it grabbed me by the nose and kicked me in the ass.

It is a monumental occasion when you give your entire life to someone full of trepidation at first then lasting peace.

We arrived at Sandridge Beach VA on the Outer Banks around 9 P.M. We found a hotel and the girls went to check in. It was a small room with a double bed for the girls I would curl up on the floor in my bag.

We pulled up some lawn chairs by the motel pool and sat for hours talking fueled by a cooler of beer and some wine and snacks. I swam some laps in the little motel pool and did some leg kicks to revive my legs after so many hours stuffed in the back of the Bug.

I left the girls talking and headed in to have a shower and then I got into my sleeping bag with a copy of Kerouac’s “Desolation Angels.”

The girls came in laughing and MJ said “there is plenty of room in this bed for you too Willy.” I just ignored her. Sadie said “Mary Jo, we don’t want Willy getting a woody.”

Hardee har har, silly girls.

I drifted off dreaming of the sea and the beaches just down the road from the hotel where I would run tomorrow and swim in the surf and relax and read and watch the girls go by my oh my.

I awoke to the smell of coffee brewing and the girls had gone out to get some pastries and juice. “Willy, I hope you didn’t mind us teasing you last night.”

We were blessed with a perfect beach day and strode the half mile to the beach with our provisions. I ran on the beach with a thin running flat on my feet in only a pair of shorts wearing some cheap sunglasses.

I went out just over an hour and then turned around. I stopped to take my shoes off and carried them while I ran by the water’s edge and in a few inches of water my footfalls splashing and I wanted to run all day.

Other than a quick trip to get more sandwiches and beer we stayed on the beach all day. I fell asleep for an hour in the afternoon. I decided to do another short run before leaving and Sadie ran with me for a half hour. “You know Willy Mr. International miler to be, I threw the Javelin and ran cross country in high school.” “But not at the same time, right?”

The girls had been invited to go to a bar with some guys they met at the beach. They wanted me to come but I was not in the mood, I was a good tired and just wanted to hit the feathers early. After they left I worried about them like a parent or sibling would.

I had a good talk with my Dad that night, he had been collecting my mail and sorting out anything looking like they needed attention, especially anything from the AAU or race promoters. It was weird to picture myself back home in Galway in a few days after nearly eight months away.

Passage to India
by Walt Whitman
1
SINGING my days,
Singing the great achievements of the present,
Singing the strong, light works of engineers,
Our modern wonders, (the antique ponderous Seven outvied,)
In the Old World, the east, the Suez canal,
The New by its mighty railroad spann’d,
The seas inlaid with eloquent, gentle wires,
I sound, to commence, the cry, with thee, O soul,
The Past! the Past! the Past!

The Past! the dark, unfathom’d retrospect!
The teeming gulf! the sleepers and the shadows!
The past! the infinite greatness of the past!
For what is the present, after all, but a growth out of the past?
(As a projectile, form’d, impell’d, passing a certain line, still keeps on,
So the present, utterly form’d, impell’d by the past.

I was up early the next morning and out running and had a swim in the pool when I got back. I was beginning to reflect on my time since leaving college and travelling this road. I had begun to keep a journal and had read some of my writing and observations to Sadie and MJ and we got into a discussion about America, the good, the bad and the ugly.

Hypocrisy is rampant, the country was founded in hypocrisy slavery, manifest destiny, trail of tears, civil war, the Alamo, imperialism all underlying the unkept promises and ideas all men are created equal.

It seemed to me at least possible at least here in America you could live more on the edges. You could hike the Appalachian trail and live in a cabin in the woods very simply and not get any more involved than necessary in the daily madness and silliness that is the daily lives of most citizens.

“The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” Yes, we do but it doesn’t follow that we can’t be fulfilled in some ways. Freedom is breaking free of possessions, all the crap shoved down your throat on TV break free of TV step outside and sit and be quiet there is your freedom.

Sadie and MJ were cheering me on as I blathered on from my journal, Willy, the rebel without a clue.

I’m not sure why we were landing in Atlantic City; it was just somewhere that Sadie and MJ wanted to see. At the time we arrived there it had been in serious decline from its heyday as a top resort in the country. Recently gambling had arrived and casinos were going up rapidly. It was like the former gold rush in California to me, reaping where you have not sown.

I only planned to spend a few days with Pete and his wife in NYC before heading home. I had been in contact with some friends who ran for this new club, the Beantown Bombers and their fiery coach.

“Come join us at the Boston State track on Tuesday and Thursday nights.” And I did and so then I was on the chosen path.

We arrived in Atlantic City after dark and found a run-down hotel in a seedy neighborhood but the price was right. I went for a short run just twenty minutes feeling ill at ease.

The next day was wonderful though at Branigan Beach for the entire day and in the early evening we travelled to Brooklyn where Pete and his wife were putting all three of us up for the night.

When we got to their place Pete and I went for a run to Prospect Park while the girls got acquainted. Pete was excited for me and envious, his career as a runner having wound down he was a wealth of knowledge and just a great friend to have.

It was like I had known him my entire life and we hardly even spent much time together before this year.

I told Pete I was going to move to Boston and I had a few leads for a job in a shoe factory. We talked about Coach Gerry and the Beantown Bombers “Willy, wait ‘till you meet the WAC he is a great guy, very knowledgeable has a little trouble sometimes getting his point across but lovely guy, would give you the shirt off his back.”

“Why do they call him the WAC?” “Long story Willy, right now I have got to eat and hit the feathers. I hope you can stay another night I have some more news and information to share.”

“Sure thing, Sadie and MJ will be off to Vermont.”

I stayed up late talking with the girls, Pete’s wife Maria was lovely and I was just very happy for them. I could not ever see myself getting married, of course I was only twenty and knew nothing of that longing nagging pounding in the heart.

Sadie and MJ got the couch and I rolled up in my sleeping bag on the floor. I awoke in the morning long after Pete had left for work at the law office. Maria had the day off and was making a big breakfast. I went for a short run and then came back to eat.

It was tough to say goodbye to Sadie and Mary Jo and I hoped that I would see them again. We went for a walk in Prospect Park and Sadie and I sat for a while on a park bench making out all kissy face fortunately or unfortunately nothing further and later MJ and I did the same thing!

“You better come see me in Vermont Willy.” “I will, I love the mountains and of course you’re gonna make me lonesome when you go.”

I spent much of the next day on the phone with my pals in Boston. Donnie and Neil had an apartment in Cleveland Circle area a two bedroom. But, they were willing to put me up on the couch or a fold up cot if I could help with the rent.

Donnie was working at the local shoe company his job opening letters from people requesting shoes who had sent a tracing of their foot and Donnie would pick out the correct width and package them up for shipment.

Neil was in Graduate School at Boston University and received a stipend from this shoe company being an accomplished runner who had done well in the big one the Boston Marathon. Donnie also received a stipend in addition to his regular pay.

Of course, these payments to amateurs were not really legal but were under the radar of the AAU. The athletes were ostensibly employees of the company and paid for work not directly related to their running prowess.

Alby, the Bombers best athlete a Boston Marathon Champion and Olympian was in the process of opening a running store in Cleveland Circle so I might be able to get a job there as well.

Donnie said, “Willy, you can work in the factory whenever you want to start they are always in need of people, but the work is dirty gluing the shoes together all day breathing the fumes.”

When Pete got home we went for a run and discussed the Boston scene. “Willy, there is a lot of excitement being generated there with Coach Gerry and Alby and some great post collegiate athletes joining the Bombers.” “Pete, how come you never joined the Bombers?”

“I would have loved to but I felt some loyalty to the BAA even though they have gotten old and stodgy at this point.”

“I also spoke with Coach Gerry and he said that they might want me to rabbit that mile race in London. He said if I did a good job they would pay me.” “Yes, Willy you should make at least a few hundred dollars.”

“He is trying to get another race for me in Finland a 5 k.” I’m worried about losing my job at the shoe factory if I miss too much time but Coach Gerry said “listen numb nuts you don’t get these opportunities every day. Would you rather sniff glue or run your balls off in Europe?”

“He is right Willy, I never regretted choosing a running opportunity over work when I was younger but I did regret choosing work over running on some occasions.”

I had a relaxing evening with Pete and Maria and hit the hay early. The next morning, I was on the bus back to Boston, Massachusetts.

Part Two

In part one of our story, Willy leaves college behind and with his limited savings buys a bus ticket, a yearly pass to take him around the country visiting with some of the top athletes and coaches in USA Track & Field circles.

Also, in Part One, Willy gets his oats.

Willy, just nineteen years old, experiences many highs and lows and records his adventures in his journal.

The decision to come back to Massachusetts at this time was made after he was asked to leave his former employer and club Spiridon based in Atlanta.

Willy has a spirit — he is head strong, that is admirable but must be tempered. It is both his great gift and biggest downfall.

Willy has one great performance while based in Atlanta he runs a 3:55 mile and on other occasions shows his all-around potential for greatness.

In Boston Willy will be joining up with a unique coach and impressive teammates in a less formal and just all around more fun group in a dynamic college town where running and road racing in particular are becoming de rigueur.

When I got off the bus in Boston in the early afternoon I heard someone yelling “Hey Elmer, over here.” It was Neil, my new roomie and teammate who came to pick me up. I hadn’t thought much about what I was wearing, a trucker cap, a flannel shirt and some baggy faded jeans. “Willy, you look like you are heading out to hunt rabbits’ tee hee he.” Neil had a very distinctive cackle.

I hadn’t thought about my appearance much being on the road and I never had anyone poke fun at me out there, but I was going to have to get accustomed to jive talking and razzing because my new teammates were relentless.

We headed to the apartment at Cleveland Circle and Neil showed me around, not much to see. Two bedrooms for Donnie and Neil, a bathroom, a hallway , a tiny kitchen and a living room with a couch. We headed to the Aegean Fare to eat and Donnie met us there.

Neil had finished second in the ten k at the AAU Nationals in Knoxville, the race where I crashed and burned, and he would be running in the upcoming dual Track & Field Meet against the USSR in Moscow.

“Willy you have got some brass balls going all kamikaze in Knoxville, Neil said.” “That’s how I run Neil, I only have one way.” “What?!” “That’s how you run, you only got one way.” He said in a mocking tone. Donnie, what are we going to do with this guy?”

Donnie said, “Neil it won’t be long before Willy here is kicking your ass, he got a 3:55 you will never get anywhere near that.” Neil said, “I ran 3:59 on a relay leg in college.” “A friggin relay leg Geezus that’s lame, you know that don’t count Mr. 4:05.”

Well, things went on this way a very lively and animated and comical dialog ensued and I might have joined in but being the new guy, I just sat back and took it all in.

“Willy, we will be heading to the track at four and I need to study, so later.” Neil shut himself up in his room and Donnie and I talked a bit and then I spotted a guitar in the corner.

“Who is the guitar player.” “That would be me Donnie said, you play?” I played a few things, my fingers out of shape not having played for a long while. “Donnie, I will be heading out to Galway tomorrow to visit my family and I will bring my guitar when I come back.”

At four we suited up and ran a few miles over to the Boston State Track. “Wait until you meet the WAC” Neil said. “Why do they call him the WAC?” “It’s just an expression the Coach has his WAC speak.”

About a dozen runners were at the track and Coach Gerry looking dapper in his suit and tie. Neil introduced me to Coach, “Well, if it ain’t the wonder kid. Welcome to the group, we can chat after we get the work done here.

”We did various interval Coach timing us but often neglecting to shout out the split as we passed being busy talking with someone. One of the group, Harold carried a watch and would call splits for us as well as he ran.One thing that was very noticeable was the loose feeling of the group, these guys had fun and worked together not to say there weren’t egos involved.

After the workout I sat in the stands with coach, and we talked about my running and my upcoming race in London. I offered to show him my logs, but he said he got the idea. “Listen Willy you just keep showing up here and we all together will help you and you will help us. I don’t baby sit anyone here, if you don’t follow my instructions fine then go your own way.

You are always welcome to run with this group and benefit.”We talked about my former coaches, “They are good men Willy, good coaches, but I have a feeling this group of more mature runners and this atmosphere will be better for you than being isolated out in Podunk.”

I mentioned my interest in running the Boston Marathon. “What!? The WAC laughed, you think you a tough guy? Willy, track racing is like breaking a finger, the marathon is like breaking both legs. Now let’s go to the clubhouse and have a drink.”

Miracle Sun

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pI4Ah0RGfhc&pp=0gcJCYsCo7VqN5tD&ra=m