Shoveling Out

Snow began falling about 4:30 p.m. Friday night. Finally sometime between Saturday and Sunday, after 18 inches had fallen, the snow stopped. Butch and I shoveled snow a lot of the day Sunday and helped a couple neighbors and him get out. My car, being much farther from the road, was much harder; I think we shoveled a path that would have gotten it out but I'm not sure and left it sit.

Yesterday we did a couple errands by foot and walked all over Broadway; we called that exercise as we couldn't run on the snow/slushy roads or snow covered sidewalks and track.

But today I had an appointment in Harrisonburg and actually got the car out! Just knowing I can come and go again is such a relief. While in Harrisonburg we went to the track at EMU and got in a good hard run. Left at 9:00 a.m.; besides my appointment, running, picking up some groceries, and a couple other errands, I got home at 2 p.m.

Butch has an appointment in Harrisonburg, so we plan to run at EMU one more time before the university is locked down for the holiday. After that I'm hoping we can run outside again.

I sure hope this isn't a sign of the Virginia winter to come.

Christmas Letter & End of Year Thoughts

There have been a couple major changes in the family this year that I am pleased to share with you.

Anna Maria has been accepted to a low-residency MFA program in both nonfiction and fiction writing at the Vermont College of Fine Arts. Classes begin at the end of December. She was also a runner-up in Ruminate magazine’s 2009 short story contest and wrote a monthly gardening column for a local newspaper.

Her husband Steven still teaches visual and communication arts at Eastern Mennonite University, but is now the chair of that department. He also continues freelance photography -- shooting weddings, senior pictures, publicity photos for musical artists and whatever else his lens finds to do. His biggest freelance successes were getting nature photos published in Orion magazine, an environmental magazine, and in Blue Ridge Country, a regional magazine.

Eliza Grace, now eight, and Magdalena Hope, now six years old, still have sleepovers and campouts with “Gramma Nete”, whom they have re-nicknamed “Graham Cracker” and visit often. Both enjoy taking ballet classes and drawing.

Ana (Sam) and Chad Updyke’s son Thaddeus is now a year old and walking everywhere and climbing on everything. Chad is an electrician for a salt manufacturing plant in Watkins Glen. They moved into their first home and now live in Millport, New York.

I am still employed part-time as an adjunct paralegal professor at a vocational technical college in Harrisonburg, Virginia, and do a little bit of freelance writing and editing. I appreciate the support and encouragement from my friend and neighbor Butch. We run together four days a week. He also stayed with me when I was in the hospital for three days this year with pneumonia and fixed meals for me upon my return home. Then, too, we enjoyed a trip to Florida where we ran a half marathon together, and to the Virginia Beach area where we also saw the Jamestown settlement, Williamsburg and Yorktown.

May God bring blessings and joy to each of you this holiday season and throughout 2010.

Thanksgiving Day

I used to celebrate Thanksgiving with my birth family in Iowa. Dinner was turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and, when she was alive, Mom's pumpkin pie plus whatever creations the other cooks in the family brought. After a long, leisurely dinner with lots of story telling we always went for a long walk -- usually about 30 gathered for the meal, and most of those also went for the annual walk.

For the past four years I haven't made it back, and each year away is harder than the last. I miss them all so much. I tried to call my sis today, where everyone is gathering, but it was hard to talk through the tears. So I kept the conversation short and just told my sis and her son to tell everyone hi for me when they get there.

A teen once said that my siblings are all "river rats with manners." I guess that describes them pretty well. They love being on the river fishing, primarily for catfish. And do they know how to cook it--melt in your mouth sweetness.

My daughter says my birth family is like the Mafia except legal. I know what she meant. Nobody messes with anyone else in the family. We're all pretty protective of each other. Those marrying in sometimes have a hard time finding their place, but once they do they have the privilege of protection and belonging, too. And if anything needs to be done, somebody in the family can do it -- from plumbing, to carpentry, to car repair, to computer tech support.

Today I just want to say thanks for each one -- Anth who listened and listened when I was in one of the darkest places in my life; Pear who always calls me "beautiful" and can't say a bad word about anyone; Paul the older brother who somehow keeps us all together and knows when it's time for the family meetings; and Annie who knows how to just be with a person and pray for them. Each is also much more than what those pithy statements portray, but they're a start.

And a start is all I can do on this short blog. I can't describe all each sibling means, nor is there room to go share about all the in-laws, nieces and nephews, great-nieces and nephews or even my own daughters and their families.

Happy thanksgiving to you all.

Paradigms

I ran in long sleeves and long pants this a.m. Fall is here and winter is coming, which means another year is nearly over. Everyone is talking about how fast the year has gone, just like they do every year. It's amazing to me how some days can seem so incredibly long (like when I'm teaching for 12 hours straight) while, at the same time, a year seems to fly by. How can both be true? But life is full of paradoxes, of truths that seemingly contradict each other.

One of those truths has to do with faith. How can God be both of a God of love and grace, yet allow so much evil in the world. Why doesn't he intervene now and make things right? And yet every now and then, we see evidence of an opposing truth -- God really is still in control.

I just finished reading Heart for the Harvest: Stories of Vision, Faith, and Courage by Jeff Farmer and Andrea Johnson. One story that amazed me was that of a missionary couple who planted a church in India, yet somehow that church became totally disconnected from the Open Bible Church that had supported the missionaries. Years later, through a divine coincidence, an Indian pastor connected with Open Bible leaders. . .and the leaders learned that the single church plant in India had grown to 61 churches. Unseen by the mother denomination, the Open Bible movement in India had kept growing.

The book holds similar stories of leaders sacrificing for something they believed whether or not they saw results from their efforts. It also tells the rest of the story -- the stories of what happened after the years of sacrificial effort. And in so doing, Heart for the Harvest instills hope.

There is so much that we don't see. That is the essence of faith -- believing in spite of contradictions, believing in spite of what seems so obvious as we walk in blind faith, believing in spite of seemingly opposing paradigms. Sometimes we get a glimpse of God at work, as did the leaders of the Open Bible movement; the rest of the time we live by faith, knowing in our hearts that God really is working behind the scenes, even during the times when we can't see it.

Ponds of Fog as Seen from Afton Mountain

We were up before the sun for the Pepsi 10K this morning near Crozet. Took these photos from Afton Mountain.

Historic Tour

We're on day four of a historic tour, having seen Antietam, Williamsburg, Yorktown and Jamestown (settlement and historic). I've taken lots of photos, so many they can't be posted here. But they are visible on my facebook page: www.facebook.com/anieta.mccracken. When Butch and I return, I'll try to post at least a few of them. For now, however, perhaps you'd enjoy seeing a couple turkeys at least. (That's Butch on the left).

Road Trip

Butch and I are headed east -- first to Antietam for a five mile race tomorrow (Saturday). We're both hoping for a good finish, but facing reality as well. His calf is bothering him and I'm still struggling just to do three miles. Even a minor bout of pneumonia knocks the wind out of you -- literally!

After the race we're going to tour Jamestown, Yorktown, Williamsburg and Virginia Beach where we plan to do a little sight seeing, but mostly relax, rest and recover. I am so very tired.

We'll return in time for me to attend a meeting on Thursday, the official start of a new term at school. I'm not feeling prepared for that either as I'm teaching seven classes this term. I don't even have the books for one class yet, although that should be the easiest of the seven to teach. I have taught the class several times before; I'll just most likely be using new books. I have read all the other texts except for a criminal law class, which I'm taking with me. I should be able to finish it before Monday, the first day of class.

So prepared or not, the next term will come. And I wonder if a person ever really feels adequately prepared for the next project, term, responsibility? I think not. I think that's where faith comes in. We do all we can to keep some margin in our life and to prepare for tomorrow, but in reality we're never really prepared and have to just trust that everything will be okay somehow.

Dog Days 5K

Ran Gypsy's Hill Dog Days 5K yesterday. Before the race we looked at the records posted on the board. I was surprised to find my name among the top ten finishers in the 46 to 55 year category, having run the race in 26:16 last year and earning the distinction of being fifth in the list.

Instead of being excited as I should have been, I was immediately depressed because the post-pneumonia me can't run anywhere near that fast now. But I determined to savor the knowledge of having been a fifth place record holder, run the best I could today, and to just enjoy this year's race. Overall I'm getting better even though I had a second minor bout of pneumonia two weeks ago, just two days after getting a pneumonia vaccine.

Anyway I ran as well as I could. I was pleasantly surprised that the hill that used to beat me when I first started running the hills of Staunton no longer seemed daunting; I just raced right up it. I laughed to myself as I remembered the number of times I had walked that hill during training runs when I lived in Staunton.

I watched the time and hoped for a sub-30 minute run. I hit the finish line at 28:27 according to my watch. That's my best post-pneumonia 5K run time, so I was quite pleased.

Then came the awards ceremony and the calling of the 46-55 year old female winners. The third place winner had a slower time than me, as did the second place winner. It didn't sink in that I had won the age group until they called my name. The trophy is now sitting on the shelf with other running awards. Am I ever glad I didn't let discouragement dictate my race pace.

A visit to see the NY kids. . .

Sleeping in the Car. . .

Since the false prophets predicted sunny skies yesterday, I picked up my granddaughters and took them to Mauzy for a camp out. They helped pitch the tent, unload the car and organize our home for the night.

We always do everything the same way -- water jug on the end of the table, supply box on one bench, food and ice chest near the fire. And we always eat the same things -- salmon for supper, S'mores before bed, and scrambled eggs with cheese and hot chocolate for breakfast. Going camping with Grammie means those things are always the same.

After a swim the girls were hungry, so we opted to start supper even though it was only 4 p.m. I figured it would take a half hour to get the fire just right and another half hour to grill some salmon, one of our traditional campfire foods. At 5, an hour earlier than their usual supper time, we were fine dining on salmon and creamed corn when it started to rain.

"That doesn't sound very friendly," Eliza Grace said

Just as we finished and were headed toward the restrooms, a deluge hit. We waited the worst of it out under a tree, dashed for the pavilion, waited a bit there and then went on to the restroom.

The girls both said they were glad it wasn't like last year when hail pounded the glass skylights. We did our business and, when the rain slowed again, went back to camp to inspect the damage -- one soaked sleeping bag, one dry one lying on my sleeping pad, and one that was wet on one side. Thankfully the girls had brought extra clothes; unfortunately they had unloaded them all into the tent which now had quarter-inch deep puddles in it. Eliza Grace announced, "Well I guess we're sleeping in the car tonight." And then the girls began planning the rest of the evening -- a trip to the camp store, a hay ride (if they still had it), and a movie in the pavilion. So we went shopping and learned that the hay ride way off. We headed back to the campsite, where our fire was smoldering, added some more logs and started making S'mores. Just as the marshmallows were beginning to brown, it started raining hard again so we made a dash for the car. We pulled down the back of the seat (like a hatchback) and saw that we could all three lie flat -- feet in the tunk and heads on the seat backs. We crawled in and the girls played a drawing game while we waited for the rain to pass. Then we made S'mores in the drizzle. I loaded dry clothes into a grocery bag, added a toiletry bag and we went back to the restrooms for dry clothes. After that we watched the film at the pavilion, and then headed for bed -- in the back of the car.

I donned a rain poncho this morning and loaded the car while the girls drew and played inside. They were dry and didn't have rain gear, and I didn't want any more mud tracked in the car than was already there. I announced that we would still have our scrambled eggs and hot chocolate, but that we'd have them at my apartment in Broadway. They protested a tiny bit, but understood when I told them our wood was soaked and I'd end up cooking on the camp stove, which wouldn't really taste any different than if I cooked it at home. And, as it was still raining, we'd stay drier, which was important if we were to make it to church on time. Maggie stated that it ended up being a short campout and expressed a little frustration with the weather man who had not predicted the weather right, but she didn't pitch a fit. She just stated her opinion and adapted.

Later Anna Maria told me that Eliza drew a picture of compassion for her pastor, and chose a grandmother with her hand on a granddaughter's head. AM said it was a complement to me, a complement I didn't really deserve as I WAS feeling a bit grumpy about the weather until I saw their contentment and their willingness to make things work. And it really was beautiful outside -- a mist floating amongst the dark green of drenched trees. I checked my attitude and enjoyed the grandchildren.

As I reflected on the trip, it dawned on me that the girls hadn't complained once about the weather or the changes in plans. Basic tradition remained the same and that's all that mattered to them. They didn't mind being soaking wet, though Maggie was glad when I saw her shivering and got her a sweater. The girls' momma and dad let them play in the rain often, so this was nothing new to them. They just adapted and made things work. Their good attitude and creativity saved the camping trip, and I couldn't help but think about what good parents the kids have

Race at Home

The Chickenstock 5K was in Broadway today. Running through familiar hills on familiar roads in cool temperatures (mid-60s) required a lot less concentration and mental energy since I knew what to expect and how to run the course. I did not know all I needed to know, however, as I missed a turn and led my followers astray. I had passed about five people, and was doing well for my post-pneumonia state when I came upon an intersection and an angled arrow. I gave heed and pondered: is this a straight ahead arrow or am I to turn? I could see no one in front of me and no other arrows, so I plowed straight ahead. Alas! about three or four followed in my steps. Two blocks later I heard, "Are you running the race?"

"Yes"

"We just missed our turn."

And so I had to do a U-turn, but just before the finish line I passed those who had gained a lead on me because of the false turn. As I reached the finished line, about two full minutes behind schedule (which is a very long time in a race with people who know your normal speed and medical history), I saw my buddies, all of whom were looking very concerned. I hollered out, "I missed my turn." All at once the looks of concern turned to relief, and we had a good laugh.

I still came in fourth place in my age group and had a chance to chat and hang out with friends: Daryl, Butch, Jeff, George, Joe, and Patti. And my pace was less than 10 minute mile pace, which was close to my goal.

Shenandoah River Front 5 Miler

I weeded the flower bed at church again Friday and spent most of the rest of the day taking it easy and using my inhaler (recovering from Thursday's attack). By late afternoon I was feeling better again, so I got up at 5:15 a.m. for the Shenandoah River Front Five Miler. I used my inhaler just before the race and took off with my friends: Karsten Brown, Jeff Campbell, George Gillies, Daryl Watkins, Joe Rudmin, Melissa Rittenhouse, Butch. . . . That's the real joy of racing -- being with friends and meeting new ones like Patty who just moved to the area, is near my age and running faster than me (at the moment anyway).

It was a fairly cool morning (60s) for mid-July. The Shenandoah race start and half-way point run along the Shenandoah River, so those two spots remind me of Iowa (and make me miss my awesome river-rat brothers!). In fact I wanted to set up camp alongside the three tents set up alongside the river at the half-way point and probably would have had I been in Iowa and had any reason to think a family member was camped there.

We also ran through a couple tunnels twice, one of which dripped water on me and cooled me off a bit. I walked a very short section of the worst hill, but otherwise ran the whole thing. Though four minutes slower than last year, I finished in less than 50 minutes (48:13 or about a 9:36 mile pace). After a random set of DNRs, finishing a planned race did a lot for my psyche; I really needed to plan and complete a goal.

Another DNR

Missed another race Thursday night, this time a 5K (3.1 miles). I ran a one-miler earler in the evening and had a full blown asthma attack. Two hits of my inhaler eased things enough for a two-mile jog, but I didn't have enough for a race. So Butch and I went home early. Not real good for the psyche, as that was my third DNR (did not race) this year.

Consistency

Consistently running three miles between 30 and 31 minutes. Consistency is a good thing. I did a 200 in 57 seconds post three-mile run yesterday, so I'm also finding I still have something left after a three-mile run, which is another good thing. So overall, in spite of a bug over the weekend, 12 weeks post-pneumonia I'm getting better and running is much less difficult. We'll see what happens this week at the track meet.

Second DNR of the Year

I was counting on running the New Market Firecracker again this year. I enjoyed it so much last year, but alas! it was not to be. Yesterday I rode my bike down to the church to weed the flower bed and put an equal amount of barf and weeds in the throw away bag, and then road my bike home just in time to barf some more. I spent the rest of the day in bed or in the bathroom, so just didn't have the strength to run today. I'm not sure if a DNR (did not run) is better or worse than a DNF (did not finish). But I opted for the DNR instead of risking a DNF.

My friends, though, did very well. Katy ran with two-year-old Ryan in a jogging stroller and ran the race in about 45 minutes. Butch wasn't too far behind, and took second place in his age group. Joe Rudmin took fourth. Rich beat his son -- but only because Max wasn't feeling very well himself.

Next week is the Shenandoah Five Miler. We'll see what happens then, I reckon.

Run/Hike up Knob Hill

Went for Tuesday's club run and there was just Rich waiting for us. He thought he'd prefer a trail run over a trail on hot Harrisonburg streets. Having no clue what I was getting into, I said, "Sure." And Butch and I piled into his van and rode for about 35 minutes on 33 to the Virginia/West Virginia border.

We hopped out of the car, scrambled down some rocks and met our trail -- about as wide in most places as my two feet side by side, and strewn with loose rocks and tree roots. They took off and I tried my best to keep up, but I ended up fast hiking part of the way instead of running the 1.5 miles up the mountain. The view at the top though was worth the effort; I never get tired of the mountains. Had I known where we were going I'd have found a way to bring my camera. But you'll have to use your imagine.

After a few minutes break to sightsee, we scrambled back down -- total running time = 45 minuts.

Smith Roach Gap summit

Though this photo only shows six, I counted nine mountain ranges from here. This spot is just a few feet from the spring that's 1.5 miles from the Smith Roach Gap trail (going north on the trail).

Hightower

Some day, if I were strong enough to backpack the 1.5 miles up here, I'd like to camp here.

This pole is for backpackers camping at Hightower. You use the small pole in front to hoist your backpack up to one of the crooks in the brown pole. There the bears can't reach your pack. There's also a hut at Hightower and cooking fireplace. Unfortunately there was also evidence of humans -- cigarette butts, a couple spots of human waste and toilet paper. Considering the number of people listed in the journal at the hut, though, I'll guess 95% of the people using the camping area are respectful.

The signpost marking our way.

"Git 'er Done" Run

About a year or two ago, I came up with the term "Mind Over Matter" run. I was in a funk following a minor setback and couldn't finish three miles without a walk break. Finally I decided that problem was all in my head and I just needed to shut my mind off and do it. It worked.

My "Git 'er Done" runs are similar and came about after a very depressing run last Sunday. That was about ten weeks post-pneumonia, and I was feeling very depressed about my lack of speed. I run three miles in about 30 to 34 minutes and even at that pace it's very, very hard work. At the end of Sunday's run, which included some walk breaks, I decided it was time to accept things as they are and determine to enjoy running instead of fretting about what isn't happening. Hence the "git 'er done" run.

They're about just getting the run in, whether I feel like it or not, whatever it takes--even if it means having to walk a bit. The goal is not speed, but getting back the joy of running. I want to finish more alert than I started. I want to think while I run instead of just whining about how rotten I feel. I want to come home exhilarated, not exhausted. And I'm feeling better.

I did a 30:47 3-mile tempo run Tuesday, and I did speed work Thursday (4x200 at a 1 minute pace average) and felt good about both.

Today my goal was form -- standing tall, bending at the ankle, pumping my arms without crossing, landing midfoot. I stopped for a drink (it's 83 degrees) at the halfway point and finished at a faster pace than I began. Ending time was 32:22, but ideas were flowing and I thought about something besides whining. All is well.

2 1/2 months post pneumonia. . .

I was very discouraged with Thursday's 30 minute 5K on the road at the track meet, and even more discouraged with Sunday's 34 minute three miler on the track. But then I looked up my times from last year. My races were considerably faster -- 26:25, 26:15, 26:11. . . But my training runs weren't much faster, especially on hot days and Sunday was hot. And a friend told me it took him three months to get over pneumonia, and he was in his 40s at the time.

So my attitude is better today even though my three miler on the track was still a little over 30 minutes (30:48). I did have enough energy to pick up the pace for a short distance on 4 laps, and ran a 200 sprint after the three miles (49.9 seconds). And that's a first.

Recovery just IS a slow process and I need to be more patient.

South River Falls Trail off Skyline Drive

Ran three miles Saturday and then took a hike. Our goal was to reach the base of this waterfall, which had a lot more water flowing than it did during last year's dry season.

The base of the falls. . .
A canopy of trees on the Appalachian Trail section.

Thaddeus

Lousy photo of my daughter and her husband, but a gorgeous view of one of the falls at Watkins Glen State Park, which we visited with my upstate NY family. We hiked an hour or two in the park; it's definitely a "must see" and a place I'd like to visit again.
But mostly the trip north was about Thaddeus, whom I haven't seen since he was born in December. Now he's wanting to walk with help, crawl and scootch, sit up and eat and eat and eat. That child eats nonstop it seems, but as you can see, he's not getting too fat. So he must need it all. 

He did make it to that toy. He likes playing crawling and scootching games.

Francis Scott Key

The third burial site of Francis Scott Key, composer of The Star Spangled Banner. Keys final resting place is in Mt. Olivet Cemetery, Frederick MD. Nothing was written about the woman and two children in the statute beneath him.

A Run through History

The Battle at Antietam:

Yesterday I ran a 10K through the hills of the Antietam Battlefield, amongst statutes and memorials giving tribute and depicting the Civil War's bloodiest battle.

The Dunker Church, above, became a hospital during the Antietam battle; and it was the site of soldiers on opposing sides embracing those who, just the day before, had been their enemy. The blood of those who died or were wounded stained the pews. Years later the church burned, but was rebuilt to historic accuracy using salvagable lumber and items from the church.
Canons face each other. . .
Though this statute represents the 125th Pensylvania volunteer infantry, 1st Brigade, 1st Division, 12th Corps, there were statutes and markers from each military branch who fought here, where the Potomac River ran red with the solders' blood. According to the statute 54 from the 125th were killed or died from their wounds, 91 were seriously wounded and 34 were slightly wounded.  As I ran from one hill to another it was easy to imagine a solder cresting a hill and meeting his death by a soldier on the other side.

More Photos from Old Rag

Second Visit to Old Rag Mountain

Taken in the "rock scramble" section, where we were the only ones over 35 who dared to enter. . . 

Sometimes a boulder; sometimes a stone;

Sometimes a high one wouldn't let me climb on;

Sometimes a chill of fear blew on my bones;

Sometimes a boulder; sometimes a stone.

(written to the tune of the song, "Sometimes a diamond, sometimes a stone.")

Thanks to a few pushes and pulls from Butch and one from a kind, fellow climber, though, I made it through the "scramble" and on to the beautiful mountain summit. Total hiking, climbing and running time = 4.5 hours.
View from the summit. . .

Batesville Day 10K

My lungs, I discovered Saturday, are not yet up to pre-pneumonia health. I tried to run the Batesville Day 10K, which is basically a three-mile run up a mountain and then back down again. Mile one was at my pre-pneumonia pace, but after that I had to walk up nearly every hill. My finishing time was about five minutes slower than last year ; my time was 63 minutes. I was extremely disappointed, although my head knows I should just be thankful I completed the race at all. The doctor said this was the traditional pneumonia that used to put people in the hospital for four to six weeks, and that it will take a while to recover completely. I still placed, coming in third in my age group. Last year I was second.

Good friend Sharon Balint took the second place ribbon, after cycling a century the week before and occuring a nasty saddle sore. So I was very proud of her.

Butch ran Batesville faster than he did last year. And he, too, placed in his age group and brought home a second place ribbon. And that feat was something we were both ecstatic about.

A.P., CP

A.P. McCracken is officially now a CP, certified paralegal. Just yesterday (5/11) I received notice that I passed NALA's qualifying exams. I nearly cried; I was so relieved. I really didn't think I could bear to re-take even one section of the exams. 

Bringing Home the Gold. . .and the Silver. . .

The Senior Games officially began with the lighting of the torch near the end of a banquet held at Deep Run Recreation Center (the rear of the building is in the photo below).

I brought home four gold medals (for the 200, 800 and 1500 meter in track and field; and a 5K road race) and Butch brought home three silvers. I actually won the 800 meter women's race. I felt like I was watching someone else's life, and kept thinking the other two women would surely pass me at some point. But they didn't. That's the first race I won.

Butch won silver medals for placing second in his age group in the men's division of the 800 and 1500 meter track events, and Sunday's 5K road race. 

Wet Shoes

Four pairs of wet running shoes are lined up in a row on a rug in my living room. It's been raining for days obviously and the shoes just aren't drying after escapades through water and mud puddles. Today, since the wind wasn't blowing for a change, we opted for a road run instead of the usual run through the trail in the park. I felt a few sprinkles, but by and large stayed dry -- except for my feet in their still-wet shoes.  

We slogged over squashed earthroom, slugs and even a frog; there were too many to be able to avoid them all. The downpour last night must have brought the critters in a crazy blitz to their demise. 

Though t-storms are predicted during the weekend, at this precise moment the sun is actually shining so I will soon head over to the church to play in the flower garden a spell.  

Apple Blossom 10K

The first couple miles of the Apple Blossom 10K on Saturday, May 2, was pure chaos. More than a thousand people were crammed onto a divided road. When the signal went off, runners scrambled for place and pace -- and some didn't worry about stepping on others' toes.  After a couple miles, however, the crowd thinned out, as did the rain that had been steadily falling.  I never did find the magic bubble where I could run my own race; always there was a small group around me and I had to be wary of cutting others off.  

Last year I ran this race in 54:09 and came in second in my age group. This year I did it in 59:57 (chip time) and came in 13th out of 27 in my age group. I was sorely disappointed, yet knew I should be grateful to be able to finish without walking any of it as this is the longest and hardest run yet since the pneumonia hit. The doctor told me earlier in the week that the pneumonia was an infection in my lung, and that it will take time for it to heal. I had the traditional pneumonia that, before antibiotics, used to put people in the hospital for three to four weeks at a time; and it hasn't even been a month since I landed in the hospital.  I do find that I still feel very tired and low on air (which is not quite the same as being short of breath; this is more the sensation of being unable to take a full, deep breath).  So I think the doc is probably right and I need to be more patient with myself.

The weather remains cool and rainy, hampering my efforts at speed work. Next weekend is the Senior Games and I hope, in spite of the lack of speed work, to see some more improvement in my running ability.

Speed

We're four months into the 2009.  Racing season has begun, and instead of already being in shape, I'm starting over. I was a little behind in my training anyway because of the unusually long cold spell we had this winter. But then pneumonia hit. . .

Today's goal was three miles of speed work ending in a one-mile timed run. I did 4x400 at an average of about 1:58, which is very close to normal for me.  But then I bogged down -- whether because of post-race exhaustion, the 88 degree heat, or the pneumonia, I'm not sure.  I did 2x800 at 10 minute mile pace--one at 4:21 and one at 5:21 (I had to walk some). I did the one-mile in about 12 minutes; I walked half a lap.  

That's this year's base numbers, as it's been too cold on training days to do any speed work yet this year. I hope to do a couple more of these before the Senior Games the first of May.  And this weekend I am going to try running a six-mile race.

From there my goal is to build the miles back up to 10 by the end of May, when I'm hoping to run a 10-miler. Then I'll be basically be in pre-pneumonia shape.  (Though I've run two and missed one half marathon, no other 13-milers were on my schedule.  So 10 miles is enough for now and where I wanted to be at this point.)  

I'm tempted to get discouraged. Starting over is always hard work. But I'm still running. And that's a blessing. So I choose to be thankful and tell discouragement to leave me alone.  Setbacks aren't failure. Giving up is.

Race Day

Yesterday's 5K was in memory of an area educator, Sherry Anderson, who was killed in a hit and run accident. The driver allegedly was drunk. About 400 turned out for the run walk in Anderson's memory and to benefit education.

The course was the same one as the Harrisonburg New Year's Eve race, Anderson's last race. On New Year's Eve the temperature was in the 30s and the wind was blowing. Yesterday the temp was in the high 70s and the sun was blazing. I had the privilege of running both races -- yesterday's at 29:20 (a 9:30 mile pace) and on New Year's Eve I ran the course in 30:15 (a 9:45 mile pace).  With a one-mile warm-up, I ran a total of 4.1 miles, which is the longest and the hardest post-pneumonia run yet.

Track club members Marlin Yoder and Carmin Green were at the finish line with plenty of praise and encouragement.  I asked Carmin how she did, and she said, "Pretty good." 

I then said, "You always say "pretty good" and then later I find out you won. How did you do?"

She then admitted to being the first female overall winner.  

Three Mile Run Today

I haven't worn my watch since I got home from the hospital two weeks ago today. A bright red line across a page of my running journal marks the date of this setback and the beginning of my recovery. I have gone a bit further and a bit harder each day. Today I ran three miles, which is the distance of my pre-pneumonia easy runs. Having reached that distance, I'll pull out my watch and start working on speed again. 

James Monroe's Home

Scenes from James Monroe's Home near Charlottesville 

The overseer's cabin.
The original back part of Monroe's home.
This is the front half of Monroe's home, rebuilt after a fire destroyed the original. The tour guide explained that a "fire wall" of sorts prevented the back part of the house from also being destroyed.

Birds

On the way home from a hike at Lost River, we interrupted this vulture's road kill feast. 
The peacock was one of several critters living at James Monroe's home near Charlottesville. We stopped there on our way back from the Charlottesville Half Marathon.

First Post-Pneumonia Run

I did a two-mile run-walk this morning, my first attempt at running since being diagnosed and hospitalized with pneumonia a little more than a week ago.  Obviously the Charlottesville Half on Saturday is no longer on my running list, but I'll have the chance to cheer for Butch, Steve (my New York virtual running partner), and a couple of my Charlottesville friends. 

That's what running and life is about -- wins and losses, progress and setbacks.  Having friends nearby makes wins a bit sweeter and the losses much more bearable.

Thaddeus Charles Updyke

A recent photo my daughter sent me. Thaddeus now scooches/crawls the length of his blankets and eats everything he can get in his mouth.

Reunited

Eliza awakened at 6:30 a.m. Monday morning. She and her daddy are telling each other what happened during the weekend while Mom and Dad were away, and the girls were, primarily, with Gramma Nete.   

Girls in Curls

The girls enjoy getting their hair curled when I'm on watch. On Sunday morning I pulled their curls up into messy, curly buns and they looked like prom queens. Eliza decided that they should practice perfect posture by walking with books on their heads, as she had read in a book.

First Bike Ride of the Season

The New Market (VA) Airport as we visited it on our first bike ride of the year, somewhere around the middle of March.

We had a picnic on the North Fork of the Shenandoah River.

Half Marathon Aftermath - Two Weeks Later

Well, my running friends, I received a medical answer to my foot problem. The doctor said that the thick callous was letting blisters form beneath and not letting them heal. Her solution? Remove the callous with a scalpel, which she did without any pain. She sliced down to the blood blister and then told me to buy a callous remover from the foot section of the local drug store, and use it to shave the remaining callous there and on a couple other places on my feet. 

The doctor said that the callous tool (unlike her scalpel) is designed to shave only one thin layer at a time, so there is no danger of cutting too deep.  She said our body makes callouses when we run long miles in an effort to protect our feet. In reality, however, the callouses get too thick. Because they are so thick and hard, they lack the flexibility of normal skin, and cause the very pain and blisters they seek to prevent.  I just know my foot feels much better than it has for a long time. It doesn't pinch when I run -- as if my skin was too small for my foot.

And I couldn't help but think that this incident makes a good object lesson.  It's easy for some of us to build an emotional callous to protect us from others who might hurt our feelings or even cause us harm. The problem is that the emotional callous doesn't allow us to accept help, love and acceptance from those who want to be a true friend either. We need to take a callous remover to our physical AND emotional callouses, and make room for healing. 

Half Marathon Aftermath -- One Week Later

Three of five blisters are healing nicely. And as you can barely see, my middle toe is still a bit dark, but I don't need a gel toe cap on it in order to walk without pain. And the blisters on my heel are completely healed.

I got the idea of posting this photo after seeing a Runners' World photo of a runner's feet after he had run 100 miles. Anyway the point of this blog entry is to solicit any tips anyone has on how to avoid this problem. I've tried mole skin, blister pads, changing shoes. . . Just yesterday I read that duct tape works, so I'm trying that on my next long run.  I also read that over pronation might cause the problem, so, if the duct tape doesn't work (maybe even if it does), I'm also going to look for the recommended insoles that protect from that.

Girls in Trees

The granddaughters and I slept in the tent in the backyard last night; weather temps were predicted to stay above 55 degrees. And then this morning they were at 72 degrees by 9:00. So the little girls took to the trees in the backyard.