Burtner Farms 6K XC

How's this for a cross country course? The hill along the right side of the pond is nearly straight up, and the entire 6K course, which began behind the school below, was hilly. All but a short spurt of this course was on grass. Thirteen participated; I was the third female overall and brought home a bronze medal. But then there were only three females and I actually came in 12th. Butch beat last year's time on this course by 20 seconds and came in 11th; our club president took 10th. When the race was over, we added a new member, James Fye, to the SVTC club membership roster. Welcome, James!

More from Lost River. . .

Studying the moss and lichen. The girls discovered that some of the moss were miniature asparagus ferns, some were starbursts, some had antennas like an insect. They found four different kinds in all.
Crossing the creek. . .no one fell in.
Bumps on a log enjoying Cliff Bars and the view.

Cave Dwellers

Caves along the Howard Lick Trail in Lost River State Park.

The "Babes" and I

My daughters will always be my "babies" and my granddaughters will always be my "grandbabies" (although repeated reminders from my friends have finally broken my habit of referring to the little girls as grandbabies!).
Eliza, now in second grade, seldom sits on my lap anymore. She is usually so busy doing things with me or engrossed in a book that I have to steal hugs. And at school it's "not okay to hug me because then the kids would tease me." But yesterday in Lost River I asked, "Eliza, are you to big for a piggy back ride? It's been a very long time." "I don't know," she answered. So I assumed the squat position and she climbed aboard. And then a few minutes and some quick foot adjustments later, Maggie hopped on for a "piggy front ride" as well. --Photos by Steven David Johnson.

Attitude Check

Still sore from increased mileage, I grumbled and moaned about sore knees and calves, and achy, slow legs as I waddled out the door this morning and started my Thursday trek down Morningside Drive. Then I rounded the curve and saw an elementary-school aged child maneuvering to his vehicle, his bowed legs supported by metal crutches. I waved good morning and complained no more.

Old Hands

My mom believed that eyes, indeed, "were the windows of the soul." But she also felt that hands were. She said you could tell much about a person by their hands -- the callouses or lack thereof hinted at the type of labor the person pursued. Well the hands on the left, above, are the hands of a 51-year-old gramma who spends much of the day pecking away on a computer keyboard. The hands of the 29-year-old on the right spin thread and yarn, weave, fix creative meals from unique ingredients, hug and snuggle her at-home children. . .
But I often wonder why the veins and bones of my hand, the one on the left, are so visible, so angular, almost harsh? And how did my daughter's come to be so soft, smooth and graceful?
These photos were taken by the careful application of my son-in-law's hands artfully choosing the appropriate settings on his camera and then, at just the right moment, snapping the photo on Magdalena Hope's first day of school.

Caution: ATBs Approaching

The beginning of last night's club run began perfectly. First Butch and I stopped at a day-old bread store and picked up 55 loaves of bread for the food pantry. Since I helped load and unload, I did a smidgeon of community service, something that's high on my "values" list. About five minutes after parking near The Runners' Corner, while getting up the stamina to warm up as we were still tired from Saturday's race and Sunday's 8-miler, Anna Maria and Magdalena went scurrying past the front of the car.
AM went to the driver's window and visited with Butch. Magdalena crawled into the car and onto my lap. After visiting a few more minutes, Butch left to warm up and I hauled Magdalena to the porch of The Runners' Corner. She wanted to look inside. Seeing a poster of a female running, she exclaimed, "Grammie! Look! That looks just like you."
Anna Maria was occupied with Craig, the store owner who was spinning a yarn about how I drink to support my running habit, or something like that. He told AM that I run just so I can help myself to a couple beers from his fridge downstairs. AM played along, recognizing that he was just being friendly, although she knows I don't do beer. Since Butch and Craig tease each other about being "beer drinkers with a running habit," I'm thinking that may be the reason Craig opted for that conversation opener. More relaxed and full of joy than usual before a club run, I DID visit a certain room downstairs (not the one with the refrigerator, though) and then headed outside. Magdalena gave me a hug and a kiss, and said, "We're going to leave now. Bye." AM also gave me a hug. Then Maggie took off running with AM jogging along behind. They were so cute!
But more importantly for me, they had taken time out of their day to enter my world and to hang for a few minutes with my friends. Nothing screams "I value you" louder than taking the time to respectfully enter and patiently absorb another's world. And I realized that is probably why George sent me the thank-you note for visiting his lab the other day; it probably DID mean as much to him as the invitation meant to me.
The group headed off. I hung with the club pres and Butch. We tried to be careful as we crossed streets. . .tried to watch for traffic. Too many cars speed, making it difficult to cross safely. Others make right-hand turns without even thinking about the crosswalk they're approaching and the potential foot traffic coming from the right. We ran down EMU, picked up a couple other club runners, crossed the end of the track, ran through a trail in the woods, down Park and back up Route 42 running on trails, concrete, asphalt and track. All four in one evening. I think that makes us ATBs: all terrain bipeds.