Naked Sunfish - Issue 3
April, 2002

Of Beer Joints and Marathons
The 30th Annual (and FINAL) Norwich Marathon
March 9, 2002
Rick Brown
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A "God damned beer joint". That's what my father would have called it. Dick's Den I mean. Dick's is arguably THE best bar in Columbus…perhaps in all of Ohio. Sure it's a dive. That's the label Dick's has in this city's free entertainment rag…a dive bar that supports local jazz. I've played Dick's Den a few times with my last band. It's one of the coolest places I've ever played. We did a "happy hour concert" there once and I'm not sure I've ever had more fun playing music. A jazz club with no pretense … how many cities can boast THAT? It's truly impossible to be pretentious when you're there because you are quite possibly sitting at the world's first picnic table.
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I've always loved neighborhood bars. But the problem with a lot of them is that the "regulars" look suspiciously upon a stranger who wanders in for a cold one. You're an outsider. Not at Dick's Den. People will be friendly if you sit with them. And they let you be if you want to be alone and perhaps play a few games of pinball. I used to frequent the place to salve my Sunday evening melancholy by doing battle with the silver ball. People respected my privacy. And pool is only 50 cents. Of course the table isn't worth paying any more than that to play on…but that's just another example of the Dick's Den attitude. You won't find guys resorting to fisticuffs over a game of eight ball at this establishment.
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It is in this spirit that Dick's Den…for the last 30 years…has organized the annual Norwich Marathon. That's the official name. Dick's is situated at the corner of Norwich and High Streets. But to most the race is simply…and affectionately…called the "Dick's Den Marathon. Like an "unpretentious jazz club" with picnic tables…this race is also an enigma. First of all it's not even a real marathon whose distance is a required 26.2 miles. No one takes the marathon moniker seriously. No one takes the results out of context. And in this world of "winning is everything", personal goals overshadowing community, and self-centeredness I have found this loosely organized, Dionysian celebration of an absurd running event not only festive but downright liberating. You don't really have to run the race to be an integral part of it. Being there in any way makes you a participant. Still…there ARE a few rules.

Here's how the race works. (I'm sure it will become quite evident that this "sporting event" was dreamed up by several of the joint's regulars while downing a few at the bar…some thirty years ago.) At the beginning…when the start has been sounded…each runner must down a shot of hard liquor…more than likely bourbon. Then the shot is chased with not one…but TWO 12 oz. glasses of beer. Each participant then runs north on High Street to the liquor store…a little over 4 miles away. Once inside they must purchase a fifth of Irish Whiskey…run back to Dick's carrying said bottle…give the booze to the bartender…and drink a pitcher of beer. You are NOT finished with the race until the entire pitcher is empty. All the whiskey is consumed at a St. Patrick's Day party the next weekend. All runners are automatically invited. Sounds like fun huh?
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When I was training for the Boston Marathon in 1993 I decided it was a good time to try the Dick's Den Marathon myself. I was in great shape both from a running AND a drinking standpoint. I had dutifully practiced both. At first I assumed the difficult part would be the beginning of the race…the bourbon and glasses of beer. But by the time I had covered three or four blocks I realized that my body was sweating and/or spitting the alcohol out. (By the way…no one…and I mean NO ONE can spit as well as runners do. My wife is a great spitter. I admire a woman who can spit.) I made it up to the liquor store…plopped down my cash...and ran out the door with the booze. Carrying a fifth of whiskey while trying to run four miles or so is an experience that is impossible to explain. Some use small backpacks. Some merely carry it. I actually experimented with about seventeen different approaches on the return. And I came to no specific conclusion as to which was best.
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Now came the hard part. I confidently glided through Dick's door as the ninth runner. But to my surprise, drinking a pitcher of cheap beer after an hour of running proved to be more than I anticipated. Two other guys came in and drank theirs' before I could choke mine down. One big burly guy chugged his entire pitcher in about 30 seconds. Wow…I felt like a woosie boy. At first I blamed this on the bad beer. Then…after I considered what a chore it might be to drink a pitcher of Guinness as fast as possible I thought otherwise. I ended up finishing 11th out of some 65 or so runners. Not bad…not that anyone cares…myself included.

So this year's Norwich Marathon was deemed to be the last. I suppose people tired of all the work involved…and no one had ever been hurt. (I failed to emphasize the "unofficial-ness" of the event. When you get to an intersection…and there are plenty of them…you either wait for the light or "jayrun". There are no police waving you through.) I made my way over to watch the final instillation. Fewer runners were involved…perhaps 40 at best. But the spirit of the occasion was certainly evident. They took the group picture before the start and even unfurled the Stars and Stripes during the singing of the National Anthem. This was something new and I might have been highly suspicious if this weren't Dick's. It was definitely a "tongue in cheek" singing of "The Star Spangled Banner". Unfortunately about twenty minutes into the race high winds and rain made this final episode a dramatic one. But like I wrote earlier…no one is overly serious about this. Many walked the race both because of the weather and respect for the finality of the tradition. And they weren't runners. They merely wanted to be a part of the final Norwich Marathon…even with no cheap trip to Hawaii enticing them.

Some guy named John Lynch won. He finished in just under 58 minutes. Doesn't matter much though. After all…the Norwich Marathon…the Dick's Den Marathon…was always an excuse for a party…for an excuse to have yet another party. Everyone had big fun. And I'm sure the owners of the liquor store enjoyed selling 50 or so bottles of Irish Whiskey in a few short hours. But the race was just a party really…one that made for a genuine sense of community…if only for an afternoon. There were no winners or losers…just partiers…friends. And although I only participated once I certainly feel a part of that community. I'm in the group picture for 1993 right there on the south wall between 92 and 94…close to where the bands set up. It's bittersweet to think that this was the last Norwich Marathon…ever. But to have been a part of it…even just that one time … warms my heart a bit. The memory is both fond and quite vivid. To be a tiny part of this beer joint's community and history. It's gratifying really. Sorry Dad … but you were wrong on this one.

Running the Boston Marathon
Rick Brown

I used to run…a lot. I've finished nine marathons…all in under 4 hours. The tenth has…and now always will…elude me. Ironically, an old high school gym class knee injury ended my running career. I have no regrets. I ran the Cleveland Marathon, Columbus, New York (on my 35th birthday) and Boston. The Boston Marathon is America's oldest, most prestigious race. You have to qualify for it. It's the only marathon in the U.S. that requires qualification. Sure, lot's of people run it as "bandits"…runners who show up and basically run it illegally. But in 1992 I qualified at the Columbus Marathon by finishing with a respectable 3 hours and 17 minutes. The year before I missed qualifying by 30 seconds. It might as well have been 30 minutes. So this is an accomplishment I am still very proud of.
Continued .. Op Ed

Joey Ramone Place
Where Punk Lives Forever

Request for street sign honoring late legend approved by
NYC community board. Joe D'Angelo NEW YORK —

It's official. The corner of East Second Street and the Bowery in the East Village, just a few steps from legendary punk haven CBGB, will be known as Joey Ramone Place, after a request for an honorary street sign was approved by the local community board Thursday. Twenty-year-old Staten Island resident Maureen Wojciechowski brought the proposal to Community Board 3's attention in October and was asked to come back with a petition signed by local residents and businesses supporting her plan to honor the late punk icon, who died in April (see "Punk Pioneer Joey Ramone Dead At 49"). On November 7, she returned with more than 300 signatures and left with a unanimous decision by the board's Public Safety and Transportation Committee in favor of the homage (see "Joey Ramone Street Just Around The Corner"). The street sign will be erected within a year, likely on a date significant to Joey Ramone's life, such as his birthday. The date will be determined by Ramone's family and the Department of Transportation, according to a DOT spokesperson.

Click Here to read Rick Brown's review of Joey's just released CD,
"Don't Worry About Me"

Update on "Our Mister Sun"

Last month, Naked SunFish ran an article titled "Our Mister Sun" (click on Archives above to read issue #2 in case you missed it) and its sequel "Hemo the Magnificent" in which Naked SunFish's Editor, Rick Brown, reminisced about "educational films" of the 1950's and early 60's.

Just in case you thought this was fiction, click here.

GOTTA RUN!
Karl Gruber

70 degrees and copious amounts of sunshine played out their hand as Zeke and I came bombing down another twisting, winding hill on the trail. It was all too soon replaced by another butt-kicking hill that seemed to only continue to go up and up, never to come back down. Finally another plateau gave us momentary relief and a chance for our heart rates to back off. We sucked in the surrounding nature, and the distinct essence of the accompanying hemlocks as we ran hard along the Hemlock Trail at Clearcreek Metro Park in Hocking County in Southeastern Ohio. Hard to believe that it was a Friday and even harder to believe it was Winter too on an unusual summer-like day. Zeke and I both had the day off from our full-time jobs at Central Ohio's premier running specialty store, FrontRunner, and what else would we decide to do but run on our day off!

We only ran about five miles, but the difficult terrain of the trails of Clearcreek Metro Park made it feel like ten on flat land. Our quadriceps burned with lactic acid buildup from the effort of hard running. When we got back to our car we both were flush with life and vitality, yet spent physically, in a good way. We both stated out loud that we couldn't understand the customers who come into FrontRunner who are non-runners and proceed to tell us how they think runners are nuts! They just don't get it. More appropriately stated, they simply don't give themselves a chance to "...get it."

Here I am twenty-one years later from my first run, a step or two slower, but still relishing each and every opportunity to lace up my running shoes and hit the streets or the trail for another run. My longtime friends, Rick & Yvonne Brown were already runners in 1981 when I was working the all night shift at a Columbus, Ohio radio station. I had gained a few pounds, and their running influence became my passion. 63 marathons and over 30,000 miles of running later, I'm still putting one foot in front of the other on my daily run. As I work through another day at FrontRunner fitting another pair of running shoes or just offering advice on another upcoming marathon, I am sometimes amazed and even aghast at people's lack of understanding or willingness to give running a chance. Last year Columbus Ohio was chosen by "Men's Fitness" magazine as the fifth fattest city in America. A stroll through one of Columbus' malls will
quickly reveal the truth in this. Working at FrontRunner is even more of an eye-opener. Daily people will complain that running is too hard on the joints, and they simply "...can't do it!" They state that runners are crazy as they sit there with 35 extra pounds weighing them down, high blood pressure, and a myriad of ailments. The bottom line is that, yes, running is hard to do! Yes, you will get your bumps, bruises, aches, pains, and injuries when you run (Hey, each foot strike is three times your body weight when you run!) But the benefits, not only physically, but mentally far out weigh those aches and pains. I've often said that runners are the sickest, healthiest people you'll ever meet. You can go into a room full of avid runners, all with low cholesterol, low heart rates and low body fat, and hear them all talking about their latest injury or pain. But there is also a zest for life afloat in that room that you cannot find anywhere else.

So get out of your armchair and give yourself a chance to share in the running experience. Running through the fog at sunrise with nary a sound around when suddenly a pair of Canada Geese fly low overhead in synchronicity while honking an overture to nature's beauty. Feel your heart beat the sound of life and good health at 150 beats per minute as you crest another hill and your lungs suck hard for the much-needed oxygen. Leave the droning, drowning sounds of
stress and daily life behind as another six mile run reveals that this is your spiritual rejuvenation; Your healthy opiate. There is not another experience like it. It is called running. Try it, and remember, it is damn hard, but boy is it ever worth the effort. Then you can slide back into that armchair and open a beer.

I am coach for the Arthritis Foundation's "Joints In Motion" marathon training group. Here in Central Ohio we will be training runners for the upcoming October 2002 Columbus, Ohio Marathon and the Oct. 28, 2002 Dublin, Ireland Marathon. If you would like to participate call 614/ 876-8200. If you are outside of Central Ohio, contact your local Arthritis Foundation chapter to train with them.