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.