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.

Greater Atlanta area

This is a scene from Suwanee, Georgia, where we spent Sunday night. On Saturday Georgia was hit with tornadoes and wind storms, and then thunder snow. Thunder snow, the meteorologists said, is a rare event where a thunder storm slams against a cold front and drops snow. The greater Atlanta area got three inches of it, and left it to melt on its own. Exit and entrance ramps were ice and snow covered, but I-85 was clear -- and stopped. It took five hours to travel 125 miles; part of that time we were completely stopped on the interstate. Our breakfast coffee created an "emergency situation," so we pulled off once hoping for gas and a restroom near Anderson, where it took us 45 minutes to go three miles, but there was no electricity and nothing open. The situation became dire and we made a second attempt at the next exit. Then we did what several other motorists did -- used the back of a closed gas station for a rest room. We managed to find more privacy than a couple desperate motorists on the interstate itself; a couple guys left their cars for the side of the road and it wasn't hard to figure out that they weren't just looking for the cause of the stoppage.
All the way from Atlanta to I-81 cars were strewn along the sides of the road like toy cars strewn across a playroom. A couple cars were hanging with their front wheels over guard rails, just inches from going on over. A couple tractor trailers had jack knifed as well. We figured the slow-down was because of wreckers pulling vehicles out of the ditches, but never really learned the cause for certain.
We expected to be home in Broadway by 3 p.m., but didn't arrive till about 6:30. But we'll never forget where we were during the rare weather events in Georgia in 2009.

Seaside Half Marathon

Winds were gusting between 30 and 60 miles per hour and the temp was about 40 degrees when we arose at 4:50 a.m. to get ready for Sunday morning's half marathon in Seaside, Florida. The race was organized to help raise funds for the Seaside community's charter school. We were out the door by 5:31 and headed for Seaside, as were a long line of other motorists. Traffic guards organized traffic from all directions and we were soon parked in the Publix parking lot, 1.2 miles from the race start. There we shed everything we thought we could possibly do without and got in line for the shuttle to the post office. It appeared that that were only three white shuttle vans, about half the size of the average school bus, and a 15-passenger United Methodist Church van to shuttle most of the 1800 race participants from the parking lot to the race. We waited about 10 minutes for our turn to board and arrived at the race site. After waiting for another 10 to 15 minutes for our turn at the porta-potties, we hunted and found a place to hunker down out of the cold. We then headed for the race start -- only to stand in place freezing for 20 minutes because the shuttles trying to get all the participants to the race made for a late start. So we started cold, but warmed up quickly. The headwind battered us all the way to the half-way point. The sight of the bay in two places distracted me from the effort of pushing against the wind; otherwise the view was the houses advertised in booklets stuffed in our race packets, their prices listed at $1.2 million and above.
Butch and I finished together (because he waited for me a couple times) in about 2 hours and 25 minutes. I stopped once to retie my shoe, hoping to ease the agony of three nasty blisters on my right foot; and the second time, just a mile and a half from the finish, under the guise of needing to use a porta-potty but really wanting a break from the pain in my foot. I don't know why my right foot always blisters. If I'd have been tougher, though, we'd have finished faster! Even so Butch beat his West Virginia half marathon time by 7 minutes, and I beat mine by two minutes. And while the scenery wasn't as natural as the West Virginia race, I finished a lot warmer. Volunteers handed out water as we crossed the finish. And then we headed under a tent where all participants carried away a medal and a Vera Bradley bag. My bag and Butch's will go to the granddaughters.

Running Fuel

Toucan's roof on the far left side, the porch area, is thatched. And a cat begs for food from patrons. We ate here Friday night while watching the sun set. Toucan's is on Mexico Beach.

There are actually a couple restaurants in The Treasure Ship in Panama City, a 200-foot replica of the type of galleon that served both the Spanish who looted the New World in the 17th and 18th centuries, and the pirates who looted the Spanish.

We also enjoyed a lunch at The Runway (no photo), near the La Brisa hotel where we stayed. A member of the U.S. Air Force owns the restaurant. About a half dozen members of the Air Force were eating lunch while we were there.

Port St. Joe area

A swamp near Port St. Joe.

Cape San Blas juts out into the hurricane prone Gulf of Mexico from St. Joseph's peninsula near the town of Port St. Joe, Florida. A brick lighthouse was built in 1847 to protect ships from the dangerous shoal; it burned in 1851. So in 1857 another brick lighthouse was built. This one was destroyed by Confederate soldiers, but the lens, oil and tools were hidden away. Finally in 1883 the Lighthouse Board built this skeletal lighthouse 1500 feet from shore; it was designed to better withstand the wind and wave action from the Gulf. But erosion destroyed all but about 144 feet of land between the lighthouse and the Gulf. In 1918 the lighthouse was moved to where it stands today. To get to the top of the tower, the keeper climbs a ladder inside the center tube. The two houses were for the lighthouse keepers.

Junk Yard Goats

Scenes from a junk yard in Callaway, Florida.

Crooked Island

Unlike the Panama City beach, there wasn't a building in sight at Crooked Island. This beach butted against Tyndal Air Force Base.

We carried our lunch down with dreams of a picnic, but the wind was too strong for comfort. Nonetheless we enjoyed strolling along the beach, picking out a few seashells and studying the birds.

Garden near St. Andrew's Bayview Boardwalk

A gardener dredged up tires, anchors and other trash from the beach area and turned it into a garden complete with a "pirate" dummy in a tree.

This photo didn't come out quite as well as I had hoped, but if you look closely, you'll see that these tires were cut and painted to look like tropical birds and turned into planters.

Panama City Beach, FL

It may look nice and sunny, and the tourists below were wearing shorts. But we were more comfortable in long pants and long sleeved shirts. Even so Thursday afternoon was warm enough for a stroll along the beach, and warm enough to be a break from Virginia's cold weather.

Why doesn't erosion cause these skyscrapers to fall into the bay?

A hurricane damaged this wooden pier. . .now being completely rebuilt.

Friday morning's run

On Friday morning, we ran in tee shirts and shorts along this path at "Under the Oaks" park in Callaway, Florida. That's the bay in the background beneath the trees. We ran this path six times to make a bit more than three miles and each lap brought us to the edge of the bay and a welcome breeze. We had visions of running in similar weather during the Half on Sunday. . .

Arrival in Florida

The sun was shining when we arrived in Florida, anxious to see some sights and run a Half Marathon in Seaside, Florida. Temps were in the mid-50s to high 50s.

Abe Lincoln's Kinfolk

Former president Abraham Lincoln's grandfather, also named Abraham Lincoln and also married to a Mary, lived in this home built by the Revolutionary War veteran Jacob Lincoln, the president's great uncle. The home is about halfway between Broadway and Harrisonburg, Virginia, on Highway 42. The first Abraham Lincoln moved to Kentucky upon the encouragement of a relative of Daniel Boone's.

Jacob Lincoln was buried on the same property in the family plot, as were two of the first Abraham and Mary Lincoln's slaves (tombstones above). Five generations of Lincolns are buried in this family cemetery. That Lincoln's kinfolk owned slaves and farmed in Virginia made the Civil War a personal matter, as it was for many Civil War era citizens.

Shrine Mont near Orkney Springs

On a drive one afternoon, we went out to the Shrine Mont, the cathedral shrine of the diocese of Virginia. The shrine is near the Virginia House, formerly known as the Orkney Springs Hotel, where in the late 1800s, folks used to come for rest and relaxation. The green-shuttered white hotel is four stories high and 96,000 square feet. The common areas, meeting rooms and dining facilities were all restored in 1987. For more information on the Shrine and the Virginia House, see their web site at: http://www.shrinemont.com/. There's a better picturre of the hotel than I could take on that site.