Dec 2, 2000 Turkey and Diamonds By Laurel Park :: Views- 58

Most of you have probably participated in the annual Turkey Trot 10K in
downtown Detroit on Thanksgiving Day. For some people that race is a
staple of the day, as essential as turkey and pumpkin pie. Prior to my
marriage, I participated in a couple of the Turkey Trots, and they were
great fun. Since 1994, however, I have spent Thanksgiving weekend with my
husband's family in Tunkhannock, a small town nestled in the hills of
northeast Pennsylvania about 25 miles west of Scranton. Runners in that
area have their own Thanksgiving Day tradition, too, as dependable as the
Detroit Turkey Trot and decades older. It's the Berwick Run for the
Diamonds 9-Miler, and it has been around since 1908.

Berwick is a pleasant little town of roughly 11,000 inhabitants, located
on a scenic bluff overlooking the Susquehanna River. Aside from the race,
its biggest claim to fame is being the home of former Notre Dame
quarterback Ron Pawlus, and in fact the Berwick H.S. football team is a
perennial state powerhouse. The town is charming and friendly in a typical
Pennsylvania small-town way; difficult to describe unless you've
experienced it first-hand. I'm at a loss to explain its economic
underpinnings because aside from a regional Penn Electric Power Plant a
few miles down the road, there isn't any discernable industry. Yet the
town apparently thrives, and a brief row of stately multi-turreted homes
overlooking the river bespeaks a moneyed past.

The Berwick race (known for years as the "Berwick Marathon" before purists
pointed out that 9 miles does not a marathon make) enjoys tremendous local
support. Townspeople by the hundreds turn out to volunteer, or simply to
line the streets and cheer for the runners. The race committee has no
problem getting donations for food and prizes, and in fact there is a
waiting list for businesses wishing to sponsor one of the many diamond
prizes awarded to the top finishers. Runners travel from miles around to
compete, some from as far away as Canada.

As for the race itself it is really something. You do not run Berwick if
you are not prepared. You do not run Berwick if you are not somewhat in
shape. And you definitely do not run Berwick if you are the least bit
injured.

The race starts and finishes downtown. The first two miles are basically
flat and very fast. At three miles, reality sets in. It is difficult to
find any kind of completely flat race course in Pennsylvania, and Berwick
takes this to extremes. At mile three runners begin a 500 foot rise that
covers most of the next 1.5 miles. There are a couple of dips in the rise,
but for the most part you are toiling (walking?) uphill for one heck of a
long time. The lead men, who generally go through the first two miles at
4:45-4:50 pace, struggle to break 6:00 on the third mile. Luckily, there
are usually quite a few spectators along the course, and since the race is
broadcast on local radio you can frequently catch updates on the lead pack
from spectators who have the volume cranked up; that takes your mind
momentarily off the pain.

As any high school physics student knows, what goes up must come down. At
4.5 miles, the course turns and begins a jarring series of sharp
steps-and-stairs downhills. Personally, I find this to be the toughest
aspect of the course. The uphill is frustrating but the downhills are just
plain painful. And they never seem to end.

Judging from the course elevation chart, one would think (as I initially
did) that the race would favor marathoners. Not true. While the course
definitely demands strength, and the uphill is grueling, the race is won
or lost on the downhills. Milers, light of foot and with quick turnover,
are definitely at an advantage. Many a determined marathoner has crested
the hill with a comfortable lead, only to be passed swiftly (and
ungraciously!) on the way back down by his short-distance counterpart.

Just before 7 miles, the course again flattens out and begins the turn for
home. The final two miles are again flat, but at this point it doesn't
matter because your quads are trashed. I have never finished a marathon,
but the final two miles at Berwick must be awfully similar to the final
two miles of a marathon. The ninth mile is something to behold: a straight
shot down Market Street which is lined with cheering spectators.
Unfortunately, the finish banner (and balloon arch) is visible almost as
soon as you turn on to Market Street, and it takes a long time to reach
it.

The real fun begins at the post-race party in the Moose Lodge. I have
never seen a friendlier group of people. You might arrive at Berwick a
stranger but you leave as a "local". The first time I ran Berwick (1993),
I met two or three people through my husband, but by the following year I
had several friends of my own. The beer flows, the pizza is served, and
the stories commence.

Unquestionably, one of the strongest drawing points of the race is the
awards. The top seven men receive diamond rings and the top seven women
receive diamond pendants. These aren't little "chips", either; in 1999 my
husband placed 6th and his ring was valued at $275. Local businesses
"purchase" each award, which adds to the sense of community spirit.

Given its date and location, Berwick is not the kind of race that will
ever draw massive crowds, and I have to admit I'm kind of glad. There is a
certain kind of intimate coziness about it, like joining a special club.
There is no distinction between elites and the common runner at Berwick -
every runner is special. I have come to love Berwick, and the idea of
Thanksgiving without Berwick is almost as unthinkable as pumpkin pie
without whipped cream!