Great 9-Miler yesterday . . .

I am now in serious training mode for my upcoming Half Marathon, so there's no photos of yesterday's run. But it was a great one--not horrifically fast (about 10:54 mile pace, I think), but a good, solid, steady-state run.
The neat thing about most runners is that they support one another. All goals, small or big, fast or slow, long or short, receive kudos and encouragement. Sometimes that's in word, and sometimes it's in deeds -- like yesterday when the 63-year-old secretary of the running club ran 6 of my 9-mile-run alongside me. In the past I've done my long runs in segments -- run 20 minutes, walked one; run twenty, walked one . . . I just haven't been able to settle into a proper long, slow distance pace. But yesterday, with Butch pacing me, I did it -- I only stopped twice, once to remove my jacket and the second to suck a gel.
And with that pace locked into my head, I was able to maintain that first 6 mile pace, once I headed on alone to finish my run.
I also received encouragement in words from my virtual running partner, who is still slogging away in snow, ice and cold in upstate New York. After hearing my 9-mile story, he said he thinks that I have improved so much that I'll now beat him in Charlottesville, although he hasn't been timing his runs so he's not real sure about that. What I know, however, from experience, is that all his training in snow and cold is paying off more than he knows. He may be slow right now, but get him down here in warmer weather and dry ground, and he'd be amazed at just how many dividends he's earned through his winter runs.

Mandalas

Daughter Anna Maria was teaching me and her girls how to make mandalas a few weeks back. The first time I tried I just got very agitated and frustrated. Finally I flipped the paper over and started again. Anna Maria approved. She something to the effect, "If you don't like what you're doing just start over." The process is supposed to help you relax and center down. On the second stab I actually got into it and began to have fun. The finished project is in the bottom photo (Photographs by Stephen David Johnson).

Evening Commute

Mountain Bowl

Just a couple views from my new apartment the other morning as I headed out to work. The mountains form a rim surrounding the apartment, and the view is unpredictable. It all depends on the mood of the wind currents, the jet streams and the weather both produce.

Between "somewheres and somewheres else"

After snapping photos of The Champion (next entry), a friend and I went exploring. Later, if I remember right, he said he'd learned we'd been on Walker's Mountain. Well, wherever we were, this is a couple snapshots taken from the above bridge.

Knightly Hill Bridge

This is a 1915 Champion, as the plaque shown below states. This was a recent Virginia DOT restoration project.

The Middle River, as viewed from the bridge.

Another Move...

Though moving is never easy, this one was probably the easiest. The kids and their kids arrived around 11, and the truck was loaded by 2ish, I think. Steven left with the truck, and Anna Maria, the little girls and I cleaned the Staunton apartment. By the time Anna Maria arrived in Broadway, the truck was nearly unloaded. By the time I got there, the unloading was done. Two of my new neighbors helped unload. Those little girls can sure haul boxes, and for little Maggie, hauling boxes down the Staunton stairs meant lifting her little legs knee high repeatedly. But she did it and never complained. When she awakened Sunday morning though, she rolled over and said, "Oooh! my cheek by my hip hurts!" The sore muscles didn't last too long though.