The Original Tradition is to walk down to Main Street, watch the runners and then watch the MHS vs East Catholic High football game.
Then you discover beer and then it is, walk down to Main Street, drink beer in public like New Orleans, hit the four dive bars in the 'hood, ride home and dissappoint your family. It is always fun or tragic, and sometimes both.
This year had cold, dry weather which makes for larger crowds than the 60 degrees we have occasionally. Heavy promotion by FOX 61 TV made for a sold out field of 15,000 runners. The first time there has been a limit.
I got out of work at 8 am this morning. It was the earliest and least hungover raceday I have had since my paper route days. Groups of people watch from the same places year after year, some have buffet tables, some have bands, all in all the best interaction with fellow Mudvillians all year.
A bucket brigade of volunteers unloads a semi full of bottled water.
Start Finish line before the swarms.
Course workers figuring out the cattle chute logistics,
Broadcasting live.
Marc representing us.
Harley-Davidson leads the race.
This cop used to hate all the motorcycle riders back in the Parkade days.
How ironic.
A lot of people work hard at making this a smooth event.
The pro runners have yellow number tags. The tags had transponders in them this year for scoring your time.
Many idiots wear costumes while running, it is kind of funny.
This hardcore fucker was running with crutches and only one leg. I rooted for him in spite of the pajamas.
Lil sister runs after being out til 4am.
The bank lot is where the motorcycles congregate.
The runners return and you wander about. You get to see the folks that moved away and return once a year.
The Army Navy Club, once the social hub of town, comes alive with beer sales and a clean bathroom.
Time to do the circuit.
Oak Street, once the roughest joint in town.
The circuit ends at the Hungry Tiger. If you get there early enough, you can get in the group picture that has at least a hundred people in it. We were late.
One last beer and hit the road for family dinner.
Happy Thanksgiving from Manchester, Connecticut.
