Child of the 1980's - The Drive-In Theater

                Drive-In movies were a huge part of the lives of children and young adults during the 1950’s and 1960’s.  Though drive-ins technically existed prior to World War I the first true patented drive-in opened in Camden, New Jersey in 1933.  Even after that they did not become a true part of culture until the 1950’s.  The growing popularity of drive-ins was evident at this time.  In 1948 the United States had less than 1,000 drive-ins compared to 17,000 indoor theaters.  By 1958 the numbers were changing with roughly 4,600 drive-ins opened in the country and approximately 12,000 indoor theaters.

                Drive-ins were a welcome change from what could be crowded indoor theaters.  First off one could sit in their own vehicle and watch a movie.  In fact the largest drive-in theater for a long time was located in Dearborn, Michigan and used to hold 3,000 cars.  It was eventually surpassed by the Fort Lauderdale Swap Shop.  When the 1980’s began the drive-in was still going strong with approximately 3,500 screens located across the country.  However this decade would end quite differently.

                Growing up on Cape Cod I remember vividly going to the Yarmouth Drive-In located along Parker’s River.  There were also screens located in Hyannis, Dennis, East Falmouth, and Wellfleet.  During this time in the early 1980’s I got to see movies such as Return of the Jedi, E.T., Flash Gordon, and even Friday the 13^th Part III at the Yarmouth Drive-In.  It was such a thrill as a child barely in kindergarten to be able to lay down under a blanket with pillows and snacks and watch a movie on a screen that was between 90-100-feet wide.  Shows started at dusk and were double-features.  The first movie was usually the more family friendly since it was likely that the kids would be wide awake and wired for the show.  The second movie was usually a little looser, probably not R-rated, but likely a solid PG, or PG-13.  It felt like an adventure, a unique experience, being outside yet feeling like you were in your own living room.

Dennis Drive-In courtesy of Cinema Treasures

               
      The 1980’s began with five drive-ins on Cape Cod, and 3,500 nationwide.  By 1990 that number was below 1,000, and there was only one survivor on the Cape and that was in Wellfleet.  What caused the downfall?  Causes range from the rise of cable television to the wider availability of VCR’s.  Drive-Ins did not totally vanish, and still haven’t, but today they are more of a niche, something neat to experience once during the summer if possible, not a weekly ritual like in its heyday.

So for Cape Cod children of the 1980’s wondering what happened to the other four, here are the answers.  In East Falmouth the Cod Drive-In was first to go as it closed in 1980.  Today it is the site of J.R. Brody’s and Falmouth Lumber, a concrete slab likely where the tickets or refreshments were sold is still there.  The Dennis Drive-In on Hokum Rock Road closed shortly thereafter.  In its heyday it had room for nearly 1,000 cars and even had small planes landing and rolling up to watch movies.  Today it is an overgrown field near an industrial park.  If you walk around you can see old pavement, concrete slabs, and an occasional speaker or speaker pole.  The Yarmouth Drive-In I frequented as a child closed next in 1985.  Today it is an open field across from Capt. Parker’s Restaurant on Rt. 28.  The last Cape drive-in to close was the Hyannis Drive-In which shuttered in 1987.  Today it is a shopping center anchored by Toys R Us, Home Goods and Shaws.

Wellfleet Drive-In today courtesy of Wellfleet Cinemas

The Wellfleet Drive-In is still hanging on and has now found a second life as children of the 1980’s wish to recreate that old drive-in magic with their children.  Today there are only 336 drive-ins left in the country, that’s about 7% when compared to the prime of the late 1950’s. 

What movies do you remember seeing in the 1980’s at the drive-in?  Do you get the chance to go today?  For a trip down memory lane check out Drive-In Theater.com, and stay tuned for more buttery and sugary treats 1980’s style!

Click here for my last Child of the 1980's blog about Mascot Mania!

Will Power and Pain Tolerance: Cape Cod Marathon

            “I did it!”

            That was the first thing that popped into my head as I crossed the finish line of my first marathon.  I had just run 26.2 miles and lived to tell about it.  My time?  Well, that’s sort of secondary at this point to the overall accomplishment.  I look back to March of 2011, at who I was, at how I felt about myself, and cannot believe what I just did today.  Back then?  Sure, I went to the gym, a lot, usually 5 days a week.  Still, the results never came, I was around 185 lbs and that held steady.  My cardio?  45 minutes on an elliptical machine, maybe some stair climbing.  I had resigned myself to the fact that I was going to look that way forever, and probably get worse as I inched closer toward 40.

            Flash forward to October 28, 2012 and I have just finished my first marathon.  As I write this my legs are elevated, calves firmly planted on a heating pad gratefully supplied by my good friend Deanna.  I have ice packs on both knees and have more pains than I have ice and heat to be honest.  Saying all of that, I would do it all again if I knew this would be the result.  This day was a life changer.  It was validation.  It was proof to myself that hard work pays off.  If you set your mind to it nothing is impossible.  There is nothing I feel I cannot do.

            I trained literally by the book for my first marathon.  I had all of my gear setup the night before. I carbo loaded, I electrolyte loaded.  I was pretty much as prepared as I could be.  Still, sometimes it is only a momentary lapse of judgment that can make all the difference, and it did. 

            I started slowly, knowing it was a ‘marathon, not a sprint.’  I felt as though I was running exactly the way I wanted to.  Sometimes during races you can get caught up in the adrenaline, or get caught up in others running faster and naturally wanting to keep pace.  I did not succumb to any of that, I kept telling myself that it was just me and the road. 

Coming up on Mile 12, the beginning of 12 miles of hills that are a part of the Cape Cod Marathon, I felt my right shoe come untied.  Only thinking of retying it I stopped and bent down.  That is when I felt a pain like someone had ‘unzipped’ my left hamstring.  Oh yeah, I screamed and cursed, partially at the pain, partially at my own carelessness, and also at the fact that I still had 14 miles to go.  I knew that I only had moments to decide my next course of action so I stood up and started to gingerly walk.  I walked a few hundred feet and it felt like the hamstring had loosened back up.  I resumed running but paid close attention to that injury.

            I probably zoned out and didn’t realize that I was compensating for that hamstring which is only natural.  Then a familiar foe made its return: calf cramps.  These usually hit when I am dehydrated but I had made a point to stop at every water station.  Doesn’t matter how they happened, the fact is it was a bad set of cramps feeling like I had snakes crawling under my skin.  To make matters worse these first began to occur at Mile 15, I had 11 more to go.  

           Calf cramps had ended my day at the Smuttynose Brewery Half Marathon in New Hampshire in January.  They had also occurred during the Hyannis Half but only in the last few hundred yards so I was able to sort of hop to the finish.  This was 11 miles I was going to have to navigate with a pulled hamstring and two cramped calves.

            Finishing time took a back seat to finishing at all.  I walked for a while and then tried to run.  The cramps came back and I found myself using my water bottle to roll out the muscles, or at times jam the plastic carrying ring into the cramps.  This would allow me to run a few hundred more feet before the process had to be repeated.  I managed to make it to Mile 18 using this arduous method of pain relief. 

            At this point I realized that it was going to come down to will power and pain tolerance.  I was desperate to finish and achieve my goal.  Thus began experimenting with ways of running to avoid the pain in my hamstring and calves.  I tried running on my heels first.  One trip down a good-sized hill and I felt the pain in the IT Bands on both knees and decided that was not going to work.  I began walking up the hills and then running down them using the widest stride possible to get there quicker.  This succeeded somewhat but also caused pain in my feet and knees.

            When it seemed like I had no hope of finishing I got a shot of motivation.  My friend Emily was running her first marathon also and she sent me a text telling me she had just finished.  I was almost to Mile 20 and she was done.  We had agreed almost a year earlier to run our first marathons together.  She had worked so hard and done so well that the least I could do was gut it out and cross that finish line.  I told her I was hurting but would not quit.  That meant dealing with some pretty intense pain.  As she had done all through my running life Emily encouraged me.  The weather was cool and the clouds rolled in with wind and mist ahead of Hurricane Sandy.      

            I was coming up on Mile 23 close to Nobska Lighthouse when my phone went off; it was my mother.  I had thought she would not be able to make it for the race but she texted me that she was just ahead at Mile 24.  Despite the incredible pain rushing through my legs I gathered myself and managed to run faster than I had all race to make sure she did not have to wait for me much longer.

            I turned a corner and there she was.  I waved and smiled like I was in a parade, doing my best to mask my pain.  She told me she was so proud, and also told me not to stop since I only had 2 miles to go.  After that I was so close that there was no chance I would not make it to the finish line.

            In the home stretch I forced a smile for the cameras and passed Emily and her mother who had stepped out into the cool mist to cheer me on.  I crossed the finish line and immediately looked for a spot to collapse.  I lay face down in the grass knowing that I had just given absolutely everything I had.  Normally I’d be less than thrilled with my time but knowing the pain my legs had been in for about half of the 26.2 miles I was satisfied. 

            After only 18 months I had gone from never running to completing a marathon, injured at that.  I had done it.  I could barely walk on the way back to the car, and I will probably not be able to run for a few weeks, but I’d do it all again knowing this.  Once I had crossed that finish line I knew that nothing would be the same for me.  It was not just running a marathon, it was what it meant for me personally.  Never again will I think I cannot do something, all I have to do is look at my medal, bib number, and shirt.  I will remember that through the pain I did something that few people have the will or desire to do.  I will remember that and I will know I can accomplish anything I set my mind to.  I will remember that I did it.  I am a marathon runner.  

The starting line of the Cape Cod Marathon.

About 15 miles in, looking like I am killing it, but calf cramps had just set in.

Approaching the finish line, celebrating my survival.

Anytime I feel I can't do something all I'll have to do is look at this photo.

When the Experience Means More Then the Result

11,000 people. That’s how many ran the 40^th Annual Falmouth Road Race this year.  It was my first as I used my time for the Harwich Half Marathon last October to get in via the lottery system.  11,000 people and me; I knew that the beginning especially was going to be a mess.  It would probably be a mixture of walking, trotting, and slow jogging.  I knew that setting some sort of time goal was most likely not going to work. 

The weather on race day further emphasized that idea.  The torrential rains which were falling when I awoke at 5:30am would keep going up until race time at 10.  It would eventually flood much of the race course and cause delays while crews drained the water from the worst areas.

I thought getting up extra early might help me find a parking spot closer to where you caught the buses from Falmouth down into Woods Hole.  I was right, but many other people had the same idea.  I was in traffic for the last five or so miles of my trip.  It was three hours before race time and there was traffic, then again there were 11,000 runners and who knows how many supporters as well clogging the streets that day.

I parked at the Town Hall lot which was nearly empty.  The buses were in sight, a short walk from my car.  I sat inside as the rain continued to come down.  I had bought brand new Brooks Adrenaline GTS 12’s only a week earlier.  They were all black and I was drooling over the thought of running the race in all black ala Johnny Cash.  Still, I had to make a decision.  Do I run the race in my new shoes and risk them being ruined by puddles of water?  Or do I ‘un-retire’ my old Adrenaline’s that were now my everyday shoes?  Ultimately I erred on the side of caution and broke out my old shoes. 

Being that the grip and cushioning were lacking in the new shoes my expectations for my time dropped.  That did not matter though, the experience of being in Falmouth that day started to win me over.  I mean, how could you not like trudging through the rain and seeing hundreds of people wrapped in trash bags?  That’s the runner spirit.

I made my way to the local elementary school where the school buses were lining up to begin taking runners to the starting line.  I was able to get the small, very back seat much like I did all during my school years.  It was a neat bit of retro until the guy sat in the seat in front of me and proceeded to open his window all the way.  Remind you it was still raining at this point.  Not to mention he was the only one to open his window.  The water came drizzling in on me of course.  I was wearing a hat but still.  Then he laughs as he mentions there’s water coming into the bus through a vent in the roof.  I said ‘yeah and it’s coming in through your window, too.’  That didn’t change a thing.

Upon arriving in Woods Hole we runners we directed down a side street toward Water Street where the starting line resided.  The rain was lighter but still coming down.  Now not only were there people covered in trash bags but they were also hiding out in any dry crevice and overhang of buildings.  They also huddled under trees.  Me?  I figured I was already a little wet why not just wander around and get a feel for the location.

I had dug out a very old long-sleeved gym shirt to wear over my running clothes so I was not totally exposed.  I also had stuck my Iphone in a Ziploc bag to keep it dry, leaving a little opening for my headphones.  Oh yeah, running with headphones was not allowed but the photos of me crossing the finish line show me wearing them, oops.  

I tried my best to get my usual routine of stretches in as race time approached.  With about ten minutes until start time I got into my position.  Due to the insane amount of runners we were divided into ‘corrals.’  It was like being cattle, fencing and all.  I tossed my wet and old gym shirt into a nearby trash and got ready to run. 

Then they announced the flooding on the course.  We’d be delayed close to twenty minutes.  So, there I was wedged in among hundreds of people unable to do anything but wait and cool down.  To top it all off the rain stopped and the sweltering humidity became more evident.

Once the race got started I felt good, I was able to navigate the array of hills that greeted us all.  Three miles in I was ahead of my original pace goal.  Then the humidity, delayed start, and old shoes got to me.  I could feel my legs aching which caused me to slow down some.  At every mile marker there was a clock so you had an idea of where you stood.  Once I got to Mile 5 and I was off pace I decided to get back to enjoying the experience and letting go of my time expectations.

To keep my legs going I began to slap hands with all of the kids I passed.  It made me feel important so why wouldn’t I?  I noticed the people playing music along the roads, actual instruments, guitars mostly.  The spectacle of this event was unlike anything I’ve been a part of.  Then the sun broke out as I closed in on the final mile.

At this point I saw the first medical tent which I was glad I didn’t have to visit.  The crowds grew along the roadside, some place four or five people deep.  They cheered me on as I wanted to slow down.  Of course with only a few hundred yards to go there was one final hill leading to the finish line under a gigantic American Flag.

As I soaked in the immediate aftermath of a tough but exciting race my phone went off and there was my running mentor and best friend Emily asking how the race went.  The funny part was that just as I checked my phone a photographer took a shot of me so that moment is frozen in time.

I walked to where the first water station was after the finish line.  After grabbing water I slid slowly down a metal barricade and collected myself. People soaked in sweat passed by staring at their finisher medals.  I looked down at mine and was happy.  I got up and followed the crowds to the field where all of the food and beverages were being dished out.

I gladly accepted the bagels, raisins, bananas, hot dogs, and water then set off to survey the scene.  People were still being announced finishing so the crowds continued to grow while I walked around.  I stood in line for a Yasso Frozen Yogurt bar that I had gotten samples of at the Running Expo a few nights earlier, really good.  I walked to the very edge of the packed, muddy field, stood up on a fence, leaning against a trailer, and snapped a photo trying to capture that moment.  I do love running, but for me the best part of a race is when it is over.  Hopefully I am in one piece and I can reflect on what I have done.  That is what I did in Falmouth.

I was tired and had no clue where I was.  I actually had to use my phone’s GPS to locate myself and then get a map to where my car was parked.  After running 7 miles, and walking a good half mile to the field, I had to walk nearly two more miles to my car.  This may have been the best part of the day though.  I played songs that fit my mood, and since I was wearing my bib number I received a lot of smiles and waves from the sea of traffic which I soon became a part of. 

The Falmouth Road Race is every bit of the unique experience that people say it is.  The crowds, the festivities, it all adds up to a great day.  Now, the traffic I can do without, needing over two hours to make a 40-minute drive home is nuts, but I would do it all again, and will in 2013. 

How about you, my fellow runners?  Have you participated in any races where the time takes a back seat to the overall experience?  Notice that I wrote nothing of my time/pace/finish.   

At the Finish Line, checking my phone like I said, here's the 'Proof.'

Heading for the buses to Woods Hole

In 'Corral 3' with the Starting Line in the distance.

The best view of the madness after the race, the finish line flag is on the right.