China Grove

I needed to ditch some agitation today, thus my version of a 7-mile biathlon, a bike and photoshoot, along one of my favorite running routes. This section is off Spar Mine Road in Broadway.

According to the "family legend", when the Proctor "boys" first started running, the cornfields on one side and the trees on the other reminded them of the cover of a Doobie Brothers album called China Grove, hence the nickname for this section of road. China Grove, by the way, is available on CD. Check out:
http://www.doobiebrothers.net/discography/listen-to-the-music-the-very-best-of-the-doobie-brothers/

Just past "China Grove". The Shenandoah River is on the other side of the trees, and every once a while the trees open up enough to sneak a peak. The loop also provides a mountain view. Trees, river and mountains, little traffic, a hill for a bit of a challenge -- the perfect run or ride.

River Ride

See the duck (nesting, I assume) on the sandbar? Reminds me of campouts on the sandbars on Iowa rivers with my younger bros. Hmmm....maybe the granddaughters will do a campout on a Shenandoah sandbar.
This view is near an area of Broadway nicknamed "The Foundry." On the other side of the trees is an old factory, or foundry; and this area became so named because of the factory.

God's Sense of Humor

I've adopted this flower bed at church. Originally a mess of some kind of creeping mass of weeds, Butch and I dug all that out. We then covered the ground with a layer of newspapers, and put mulch over all that. Joan Layman, a member, donated enough plants to fill the back seat of my garden, all of them dug from her home gardens, and we planted those as well. It's now starting to fill out and beginning to look like a garden again.
Years ago my sister told me that God was not the task master I imagined. She also said he wasn't out to get me, looking for any excuse to "beat me into submission". Instead she said that God is the perfect parent, the kind of parent we all wanted to be.
I've thought of that often, especially as my children grew up and learned new things. I remember chuckling at my daughters' and granddaughters' first efforts at standing and walking. They'd take a few steps, wobble, fall over and try again. And eating? What a mess! I'd put a table cloth under the high chair just to contain some of the mess. But I didn't scold. They were doing the best they could. And I often found myself giggling as they learned to use their hands and feet.
And so I imagine God laughing and giggling at my recent church gardening efforts. I found a mess of bulbs buried under the dirt. Not knowing at all what they were nor how tall they'd get, I put them where I thought they'd soften the look of the sage, Japanese mulberry and pine shrub. But look! They turned out to be lillies, and some popped up and then bloomed right in the midst of the sage. In my mind I can just hear God chuckle. I can almost feel his hand on my shoulder as he says, "Oh honey! Look what you did with my bulbs. See how I've made the plants grow, and most of it looks great. Now as far as these lillies in the sage. . .well, that's okay, too. We'll just plant them somewhere else once they're done blooming. You're learning. And I so love you."

Consider the ant. . .

The last track meet of the season was last night, and I still felt sluggish after Sunday's Bikeabout (8 for the mile, 26:45 for the 5K). But then this morning I saw this ant dragging the carcass of that bug 20 times its size across the steps (click on the photo to enlarge it; you'll see it clearer). I decided that I didn't really understand the meaning of hard work.

"Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise!" (Proverbs 6:6).

Maybe I'll remember this the next time I am tempted to slack off. Actually I really didn't have much energy last night. Muscles were sore. And I don't really think I slacked off so much as I just couldn't muster up the energy for a hard race-pace run. I also think my emotions affected last night's run a bit. It was the last track meet of the season. Part of me was ready for that last track race, but another part wants the summer and the meets to last forever. The end of summer blues has commenced.

My Partner's Back

Five mile tempo run today. According to my log, this was my fastest 5-miles on Sunset -- 56:30 or a 9:18 pace. Temperature was much cooler, just 71 degrees. So that helped. But my running partner also helped -- a lot.
Butch has run 36 marathons (one 50-miler). He stopped when he could no longer do them in less than three hours; usually he ran them in 3:15 to 3:45, or about an 8-minute pace. He used to run 10K races at about a 6:30 to 7:00 minute mile pace. Now he's slowed down a bit and he logs fewer miles, but he keeps on running. He took a few weeks off after a calf injury incurred in the Dam to Dam in Iowa in May, but still cross-trained on his bicycle. He did intervals on his bike while I ran -- handing me water, and encouraging and coaching when meeting up with me. When the calf started to heal, we ran on the track. We could each run our own pace and distance that way, yet stay within eyesight. And we could motivate each other when one of us lapped the other. And it was good, much better than running solo. But it just wasn't the same as having a verbal coach right alongside.
But then a notation dated July 8 in my running log states, "with BP. Yeah!" And another on July 10 states, "BP is back!!" We had run two races at that evening's track meet.
Today he ran four, and I ran five. I left him around the first mile, turned around at the 2.5 mile point and headed back home. I saw him a mile later and picked up the pace, hoping I'd catch him. He heard me coming and picked up his pace. I tried a bit harder. So did he. I finally caught him at the crest of the hill on Morningside, just a few yards from the post that marks our starts and finishes. He beat his previous "Sunset 4" by three minutes. And I beat mine as well.
According to my running log, I'm running about two minutes per mile faster than I did a year ago. Back then my NY virtual running partner kept me honest and kept me disciplined (and he still does!).
But there's nothing quite like having a real time running buddy to chase.

Historic New Market

Pedaling through New Market yesterday, battle field monuments and a battlefield reenactment site recite the history of the Civil War.
"That was 200 years ago. Get over it," I used to think. But now I see things differently.
Butch knows someone whose grandfather fought alongside Stonewall Jackson.
And on the weekend, the Daily News Record (Harrisonburg, Virginia) told of Carrie Allen McCray Nickens (94), the black descendant of John Robert Jones, a Harrisonburg man Jackson had nominated to become a general. Though Gen. Robert E. Lee and President Jefferson Davis endorsed the nomination, the Confederate Senate never confirmed Jones. Captured in 1863, he spent the last two years of the war in prison camps.
Two Confederate soldiers. Two Virginian's grandparents. Suddenly 200 years ago just doesn't seem that long ago.

Sunday's Bikeabout

The Australians have their walkabouts. Runners' World encourges a runabout. In keeping with both, Butch and I took a bikeabout Sunday. The next several blog entries are scenes from the slow and relatively easy (this IS the hilly Shenandoah Valley after all) bike ride.

After a weekend of way too much partying (camping with the girls and a 5K in 91 degree heat on Saturday night), I had slept about 9 1/2 to 10 hours Saturday night and awakened in a very groggy state Sunday morning. But I was too agitated to just sit at home. So Butch and I took off on a bike ride, with the idea that we'd quit whenver I got tired -- and we both figured 5 miles would be about all we'd get in. I grabbed my camera and cell phone, some water and off we went.
Let me backtrack to Friday and Saturday. A t-storm at 5 a.m. abruptly forced my grandkids and me out of our cozy sleeping bags and tent. Cleaning up the soggy mess after I got home Saturday night ate up time allotted for a nap. Even so I left at 3:30 p.m. for a race in Fredericksburg (number 29).

At race start, it was 91 degrees according to the timing company. Another t-storm threatened. The Fredericksburg Christian Health Center fundraiser was to raise money for the organization, which provides medical care for both insured and uninsured. Written race instructions warned that the race would abruptly end once lightening hit. Anyone finishing before that time would be counted as a finisher and their race times recorded. Everyone else was to head for cover.

The weather held. But the humidity was so high I was soaked in sweat before I even crossed the starting line. Then 27 minutes and 42 seconds later I crossed the finish line (just under 9 minute mile pace). Other racers complained about their slow times. Exhausted before the race, I was completely done as Butch and I headed out of town -- the bank marquee still registering 88 degrees.

And so it was that I slept long and hard Saturday, and still felt sluggish at 2:30 Sunday afternoon when I hopped on my bike. But somewhere along the shade of Plains Mill Road, with the river meandering alongside, my old bones revived. We reached the tee, took a left across a bridge, and kept on going. Three hours and 25 miles later, I was back home making supper. Well. . .supper was simmering on the stove, while I sat with my feet resting atop my exercise ball and read.

Enjoy the trip as depicted in the next several entries.