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.

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.

Gutter Dance & Medal at Race #50

FCPRD's Thanksgiving Race began at Sherando High School's track, and then headed down the school driveway and alongside the parking lot.  Not three minutes in the race, I ended up in the gutter and tripped over a half-inch rise.  The impromptu "gutter dance" prompted a "Watch out!" from a male bass voice behind me.  As I shuffled to regain balance, the crowd dispersed and gave me room.  The race was a benefit for the Big Brother, Big Sister program of three counties (Frederick County being one). I chopped my way through a tree-root scattered trail, skittered on a gravel path and then shuffled across knobby grass before returning to run on pavement and the track.  The gravel and the grass slowed me down; having already come close to a face plant, I was a bit hesitant on the uneven surface.  Nonetheless my 28:25 minute time netted me a second-place medal for my age group and 144th overall.  Butch was two seconds behind me.  

This was race #50 this year;  so I made that goal.  I have also surpassed my goal of 600 miles, having just finished my 768th mile for the year.  

Cross Generation Run

The one mile race begins above; and (below) ends with one tired "turkey": Maggie. -- Photos by Steven David Johnson

I ran my 49th race for the year on Sunday afternoon, and the little girls ran their first race ever.  Butch and I "coached" them, and Anna Maria and Steven watched them and tried to ignore us -- the crazy grandma and quasi-grampa (they did cheer the kids' on though in their own quiet way--without making a scene). 

The girls' race was a mile, four times around a cinder track.  Butch mostly was at the far curve and I stayed near the finish line.  I warned them not to be tempted to start fast as everyone else would do; I said, "You'll see. . .the others will be walking by the second lap."

And off they went. . .near the last of the pack, just as they'd practiced.  And they stayed there near the end for a lap.  But then Eliza began picking off the other racers.  

Each time they neared the finish line, their big blue and black eyes would look up at me waiting for the next instruction.  I'd shout "on pace" or "slow down"; and say the number of laps remaining while holding up corresponding number of fingers.  It was humbling and frightening, knowing they were depending on me to get them through and to do so at their very best. The weight of those two pairs of eyes looking at me at every lap, and knowing I had to counsel wisely or they'd burn out with discouragement; they'd run too slow, not reach their potential and be disappointed, or. . . 

Butch at the other end would run a bit with them if they started to slow at the half-way point on the track.  

Liza did the first lap at 8 mile pace.  I yelled, "On Pace, Liza, just maintain." And I secretly hoped she would slow a bit as I knew that was two minutes faster than practice.  Second lap was right on, "Perfect pace, Liza.  You're doing great. Way to go."  Third lap, "Last one, Liza.  You're almost there. Hang in there."  And then near the curve she was slowing--nearly to a walk.  I ran up to her, "Come on, Liza.  Push it through.  Beat that girl ahead and you'll be third." She poured it on, and beat that gal. . . who was actually 2d and running with an adult.  So Eliza was the second female.

Little Maggie stayed at the back.  She's barely waist high to me.  And you know little Maggie only weighs about 39 pounds, and she's just a bitty little thing.  But she ran 4 times around the track in a steady energizer bunny type pace and never quit.  She kept the same pace doggedly going around and around, except one time.  Seeing her slow, Butch ran toward her and ran around the second curve with her.  Near the end, I shouted, "Come on, Maggie.  Go for it.  Pick it up.  This is the end.  Pour it on."  And she did. . .till near the finish line.  She misunderstood where it was and quit a bit too soon.  Had she kept on to the end, she'd have beat the gal in front of her.  Her daddy, camera in hand said, "Here, Maggie.  Here's the line."  And she crossed -- two minutes ahead of her practice pace.  

But both girls DID win something! Later Maggie came in third during a turkey-calling contest.  For the race, Liza won a glass paper weight encasing a fairy; and, for turkey calling, Maggie won a wooden one with flowers on it.

And I'm one proud gramma!

Quicksburg

The "747" as viewed from Quickburg.
Looking on the back side of Quicksburg. The tower is atop the Quicksburg United Methodist Church; it and the post office are still in use.
We took a detour along a road that used to cross the river east of Quicksburg ; a new road (Route 767) now parallels and replaces this one. We were glad to know that state maintenance ended at the end of the road -- perhaps a "road ends" sign might have made more sense? Actually there used to be a bridge where the sign is posted.

Historic Quicksburg

This Quicksburg store used to sell soda, candy and gas. The stone oval in the center of the photo below shows where the gas pump island used to be.

See the darker grass just in front of the trees? That was Quicksburg's baseball diamond, in use up till the 50s or 60s.

The former Quicksburg grocery, a long narrow single-story building with an apartment at one end, also still stands, though there is no evidence of any current usage.

Another Day of Rest -- Blue Hole & Lost River

After an easy 27:33 minute 3 mile run, adventure and nature called. This is Blue Hole just short of Bergton, VA, a popular diving spot. (Take Route 259/Brocks Gap and follow the sign to Bergton; and then take a left just past the bridge onto Blue Hole Road). Most of the water here is very shallow, but there's a rope, barely visible near the spot where the slate layers angle down. And in that spot there's a very narrow hole deep enough for diving. The water is also frigid, so I didn't try. My feet got damp when traipsing along the stepping stones, and that was enough cold water for me.
Lost River State Park is a great place to get lost. The map is so detailed it's confusing, and the staff didn't have any idea where the trails were, nor had they hiked them. After several false starts and short (15 minutes) trails that wound up back on roads, we found a serpentine trail switchbacking up the side of the mountain. East Ridge Trail leads to a stunning ridge, but thunder in the distance prompted a detour on to Razor Ridge and back down to the parking lot. Nonetheless I did find this stunning view of dogwoods near the top. And so I ended this hike with another item on my action list: go back to Lost River and hike all the way to the top of the ridge.