Runner Ramblings

Finding races in the Midwest that fit our criteria and are reasonably accessible has been an ongoing challenge.   The Spearfish Canyon Half was located in a small town in South Dakota, close to the Wyoming border, and promised breathtaking vistas and a gradual downhill course.   We put a rather creative travel plan together that involved multiple airports and airlines, and put this race on the map for July.

Two short months after West Virginia, we were on our way to State #31 in South Dakota.  A big crew had signed on for this one which always adds to the fun and adventure.   James, Colleen, and Kathy were coming from Phoenix, Melodie from Oakland, Janille and Sharon were driving from Nevada and Utah, and I was flying out of Seattle.  James had taken on both traveling with an all-female crew and running his first half so this was a brave trip for him.   Our travel plan included meeting in Las Vegas then taking an Allegiant flight from there to Rapid City.   I was the first to land in Vegas and was just settling in to wait for the others when I received a text from Colleen telling me that their flight had been delayed because of weather in Vegas.   Looking out the window, I was a bit perplexed as it was somewhat windy, but nothing out of the ordinary.   However, over the next hour, it became increasingly obvious that the incoming storm was a concern to air traffic controllers, and flights that were not in route were not being allowed to take off.  Melodie’s flight had already been in the air when the storm hit, so it was allowed to land after circling for 30 minutes.   However, the Phoenix contingent was not so lucky.  We feared they were at risk to make the Allegiant connection, and then the news came that their flight was cancelled and everyone was being sent home.  Ugh.  We were all feeling rather disheartened at this point.  However, Melodie, our master flight planner, remembered that Allegiant had a flight from Mesa to Rapid City the following morning.    Kathy and Colleen drove to the Gateway Mesa Airport and negotiated with a compassionate Allegiant agent in person to transfer their flights to the following day.   Melodie and I boarded our flight to Rapid City without the others, rented a car, and drove to Spearfish as planned.   After a rather stressful travel day, we drove into the peaceful little town of Spearfish to be greeted by a glorious sunset.   The AirBnB we had rented was a beautiful home, sparkling clean, and full of creature comforts.  We greeted Janille and Sharon who were already there, took a deep breath, and settled in for the night.

Bright and early the next morning, we climbed in the rental car and headed back to the airport to pick up Kathy, Colleen and James.   We were so relieved they had been able to figure out a way to get there that we didn’t mind the trek back to the airport.   As we drove, we discussed sight seeing plans for the day and discovered that Mt Rushmore was a mere 25 miles from Rapid City Airport.   That was an easy decision as all of us were thrilled to have the opportunity to visit the famous national monument.   We picked up our straggling siblings who had weathered their travel trauma rather well, and stopped at Perkins Family Restaurant for breakfast.

Unfortunately, the food was mediocre at best, but when the company is good and everyone is hungry, you take what you can get.

Next stop, Mt. Rushmore.   What an incredible, awe-inspiring experience!   We stopped at the visitor center first to immerse ourselves in the background and the history of this national monument.   The words of Gutzon Borglum, the creative genius behind the sculpture, are worth repeating.   “Let us place there, carved high, as close to heaven as we can, the words of our leaders, their faces, to show posterity what manner of men they were.   Then breathe a prayer that these records will endure until the wind and the rain alone shall wear them away.”    And from one of the drillers and assistant carver, Otto “Red” Anderson, “More and more we sensed that we were creating a truly great thing, and after a while all of us old hands became truly dedicated to it and determined to stick to it”. The sculpture was started on October 4, 1927 and finished on October 31, 1941.

We shared this experience with hundreds of other people.   3 million people from all over the world visit Mt Rushmore every year.

We took a short hike up to the base of the monument and grabbed a few more photos.   Unfortunately, part of the hike was closed for repairs, so we missed the experience of hiking the 456 stairs.

We opted to leave I-90 for the picturesque drive through the Black Hills on our way back to Spearfish.    We stopped at Pactola Reservoir for a few more photo ops and to enjoy the cold water and the beautiful view.

We arrived back in Spearfish in time to pick up our race packets and grab a late lunch.  Steerfish Steak and Smoke was a unique small town restaurant and showcased the personality of this little South Dakota town.

Our group included some die-hard ice cream fans, so we stopped at an ice cream shop before taking our weary Phoenix travelers back to our Spearfish home.   The rest of the evening was spent in settling in, relaxing, hot tubbing, walking, and getting ready for tomorrow’s race.   Weather forecasts were predicting a much warmer day than usual.    We’d already experienced extreme cold (Chicago) and heavy rains (West Virginia), so blistering heat seemed right in line.   Unusual weather seems to travel with us.

Race morning dawned bright and early, but everyone was up in plenty of time for a relaxed morning.  The half marathoners had to catch a shuttle at Spearfish City Park by 6:00 am, but we were grateful for the early start and a chance to beat some of the heat.  Colleen and Sharon were running the 5K and left a little later.    Race start was in Savoy, a little town at the top of the canyon, elevation 4,963 ft.

Such a fun crew!

Shoes.  Brooks and one Altra.

Sibling Selfie

Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day….

Some of us get a little crazy at race time.

And once again, we were off.   Early miles were cool, fast, and relatively easy.  Thanks to Melodie and Janille who are willing to stop and smell the roses, we have some great pictures of the course.

5K Course

Heading down the mountain

We ran on the road the whole way.   Lots of banked curves and camber.

Selfie at mile 6

As we came out of the canyon around mile 10, the heat started to become oppressive.   Temperatures climbed to the 90’s and we were fully exposed to the sun.   Needless to say, we slowed way down and drank copious amounts of water at the stops.   We all made it over the finish line, but there were muscle cramps and some serious dehydration involved. (Sorry, I don’t have finish line pictures of the 5Kers.   Both of them had a good race.)

Yours truly

Melodie

Janille

James

Kathy

James took 3rd place in his age group.   Awesome job, James!

The race organizers did a great job providing the right dietary options for finishers.   Chocolate milk, vitamin water, and bananas went a long way to restoring electrolytes, and the foam rollers tortured our muscles into a more bearable state.   It wasn’t long before we were able to acknowledge that it had been a beautiful race and well worth the time and effort.

Colleen and Sharon (5Kers)

Two of my favs

The Halfers.   Exhausted, but not so much that we stopped talking.

After a session with the hot tub, we headed out to a small pizza place recommended by some of the locals at the race.   It did not disappoint and proved to be the perfect post race food.   After eating, we headed to the park in search of a cold creek.   We did find one, and treated our knees and feet to some cold therapy.

The home where we stayed was truly in an beautiful, albeit isolated spot.   We had no WiFi and very little cell phone reception, but we had each other and an abundance of beauty to enjoy.

As we prepared to say goodbye to Janille and Sharon the next morning, we lined up for a group picture via the iPhone timed feature.   The end result may not have been professional, but it was a highly amusing exercise.

Since our return flight was late in the day, we had time for a bit more sight seeing.   On Janille and Sharon’s recommendation, we headed over the border to Devils Tower in Wyoming.   The tower is a laccolithic butte composed of igneous rock in the Bear Lodge Mountains above the Belle Fourche River.   It rises dramatically 1,267 feet above the Belle Fourche River, standing 867 feet from summit to base.  We opted to do a 3 mile hike around the base of the monument in the hopes it would loosen up some tight, sore muscles and while it may not have accomplished that for everyone, the views were worth the effort.

After the hike, we headed back to Spearfish for a bite to eat, and then on to Rapid City for the first leg of our flight home.   It had been a running trip full of unexpected twists and turns, but it did not disappoint.    We endured some heat and sore muscles, but were rewarded with beautiful wide open spaces, rugged mountains, and the opportunity to visit two memorable national monuments.

Fortunately, all our return flights were on time and connections were made without incident.   Another trip in the books, and more memories to treasure.   We are so fortunate to have each other and the continued opportunity to travel, run, and experience beauty in new places.

Goodbye until next time.

Next up, Tulsa, Oklahoma.

As we get older, we seem to cram more and more of these runs into every year, rather than less.   I’m not sure if that’s because we feel youthful and full of energy, or because the sand in the hourglass is mostly in the bottom half.   Either way, our Harpers Ferry race ended up being scheduled just a short six weeks after Chi Town.   Despite some rather daunting weather reports, we were excited about our chosen location and the fact that all 5 sisters were on board for this one.

Those of you who read my blog could probably write it for me as we have become rather predictable.   10 days prior we start following multiple weather forecasts in an attempt to predict race day conditions.  Early indications were for a warm, wet weekend, but nothing particularly unusual for West Virginia in May.  However, by Wednesday the sites were full of flood warnings, 100% chance of thunderstorms, and cool weather.   Wherever we travel, we seem to experience an unusually high percentage of unusual and “rare” weather conditions, so we’ve learned to roll with it.  We packed clothes for rain, boarded our planes on Thursday morning, and hoped for the best.

Linda, Colleen, Kathy and I met Melodie at the Baltimore airport Thursday afternoon, jumped on the shuttle bus, and headed to BWI’s rental center to pick up our van.  Alamo’s customer service clerk tried to upsell us on every feature imaginable, including changing to a large Tahoe suited for driving through a foot of water.   Between that and a report from our Airbnb host that the 340 bridge could possibly close because of high waters and falling rocks, we started our drive not entirely sure of what we were going to encounter.

As expected, the rain was coming down in sheets as we hit the open road, and traffic made our first miles very slow.   Our first views of the Shenandoah River were rather impressive.    The river was high, muddy, full of debris and running swiftly.    This shot taken from a driving car does not really do it justice.

Fortunately, we did not run into any bridge closures and reached our Airbnb in Harpers Ferry without mishap.  The 1862 Inn, as it had been dubbed by our hosts, was a delightful old 4-story brick home, recently remodeled to include some necessary creature comforts, but retaining much of its original Civil War era personality.

The views from the sunroom and back porch were lovely.   We had landed in a little spot of heaven.

As we unpacked and settled into our rooms, I made an unfortunate discovery.   We were not the only inhabitants of this house.   When I opened the blind in my room, multiple little creatures fell out.   They were quite dead so I decided to bravely ignore them and go about my business, but when I opened the armoire drawers and found their live friends, I wasn’t so nonchalant.   On race day, once we turned on the heaters to warm up, these little fellows started coming out of the woodwork in droves.  Despite our initial desire not to be exterminators, we decided something had to be done.   Armed with a broom, Colleen, our brave and fearless sister, chased most of them out of windows and doors, and smashed those who were less fortunate.   We did a little research and discovered they were a type of stink bug native to this area.   Mostly harmless, but neither attractive nor acceptable as roommates.

On our first evening in town, we chose a small Greek restaurant for dinner.   The eating establishment was small and the service very slow, but we enjoyed the chance to experience the local cuisine.   We were also treated to a little live music for the evening.  The musician was engaging even if the music did not fall into the same category.

Predictions were for two to five inches of rain on Friday, but we had some serious sight seeing to do and were not going to allow the weather to deter us.   After breakfast and a little bit of computer time, we headed to the local Walmart and purchased umbrellas.    We may not be Mary Poppins, but this crew can find a way to laugh at anything.

Harpers Ferry is a historic town situated at the confluence of the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers where the states of Maryland, Virginia and West Virginia meet.   The town’s original, lower section is on a flood plain created by the two rivers and surrounded by higher ground.   There are known to be at least 82 floods in Harpers Ferry between 1748 and 2011.  During the four years of the Civil War alone, there were 20 floods.   Four times the floods were significant enough that they ended up destroying the industrial, manufacturing, and commercial basis of the town.   The flood of 1936 caused the absolute end of the town until the 1960’s when the National Park Service came in and began to rebuild Lower Town and create Harpers Ferry National Historical Park.  At the time of our visit, the footbridge over the Potomac River (pictured below), connecting Lower Town Harpers Ferry to Maryland was closed due to high water and potentially hazardous conditions on the other side.

Umbrellas in hand, we took the shuttle bus down to Lower Town Harpers Ferry and spent hours visiting museums and exhibits, watching slide shows, and immersing ourselves in the rich history of the area.  History truly comes alive when visiting a place like this.

The original fort held by John Brown and his followers during the 1859 raid on the Armory. The fort has been moved four times.

Firearms factory

Dry goods store

Boarding House

Boarding House

St Peter’s Roman Catholic Church

It is impossible to capture the significant and essence of a place like Harpers Ferry in words, but this paragraph borrowed from the NPS makes a noble attempt.

“Here at Harpers Ferry, where the Potomac River cuts through the Blue Ridge, you encounter the past and its stories in magnificent expanses and hidden quarters.   In the force of these rushing waters, George Washington envisioned military strength and chose Harpers Ferry as the site for the second U.S. Armory.   Factories from the early 1800’s witnessed innovations that fueled the Industrial Revolution.   Here abolitionist John Brown struck a blow against slavery, and soon the Civil War trapped the town between North and South.  In the wake of war’s devastation, legendary Civil Rights leaders met at Storer College and claimed “every single right that belongs to a freeborn American”.

We found a fun spot to take a break from the rain and our history lesson and grab a bite to eat.

And we found a historical candy shop!   Candy organized by time period back to the 1500’s!   We all found a favorite and indulged a little.

Next on our agenda was the self-guided battlefield driving tour.  The rain, accompanied by strong winds, was really beginning to come down in earnest by mid-afternoon but we were pretty determined to take it all in.

First stop was Bolivar Heights, site of 5 Civil War engagements.   Linda and Colleen opted to stay dry and view from the car, but some of us decided to put our Walmart specials to use and braved the elements.

The tour also included Lower Bolivar Heights and Schoolhouse Ridge North and South, all sites of the famous 1862 Battle of Harpers Ferry where Stonewall Jackson forced the most significant surrender of Union troops during the Civil War.  We did get out of the car one more time, but at that point, we were starting to think about getting dry and warm.

Our Walmart specials had some challenges, as evidenced in this picture of Linda attempting to stay dry.

Next stop was Clarion Inn where we picked up our race packets and switched gears from history to running.   During the day, we had received an email from the race director informing us that the route had been changed because of high waters and excessive mud.   We already knew this would be a “smell the roses” run because of the elevation gain and challenging surfaces, but with mud on top of that, we were prepared to do a lot of walking.

Dinner that night was at an Italian pizzeria.   Again, the food was good, but the service was painfully slow.   We decided that the pace of life in West Virginia was just different than what we were accustomed to.   No one was in a hurry.

Our Airbnb was literally a stone’s throw from the race start, so race morning was relaxed.   We fussed a bit about what to wear, but in the end, decided everything was going to get wet anyway so kept it simple.  Melodie and I were doing the half marathon which started earlier, so we left our three sisters and headed down the road in the mud and the rain.

Trying to stay dry

Race Start

And we were off.   Conditions provided us with ample opportunity to take pictures and embrace the experience.    The route was spectacularly beautiful and made the endless hills and mud much more endurable.

The first two miles were through a grassy battlefield. The mud was epic.

The Point.

My awesome running buddy. We stayed together the whole time and kept each other going.

We found a fellow runner who was willing to stop and take pictures mid-run.

This section of the course was straight up a steep, muddy dirt trail.  It was so slippery I was grabbing on to anything I could find to stay upright.

Taking a short break at the mid-way point.

The gorgeous scenery never ended.

Mile 12 after running straight up a steep hill for over a mile.   1,332 ft of elevation gain is not for the faint of heart.   And this gal is not faint-hearted.

Another spectacular view

We finished. Muddy, exhausted and exhilarated.  It was both the most beautiful and the most challenging half marathon we’ve ever done.

The finish line

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, our three sisters ran the 5K and headed back to the house to get dry and warm.   Unfortunately, none of them remembered to take pictures, so all we can do is talk about it, and we are pretty good at that.   They weren’t willing to recreate the muddy look, but we did grab a photo of the three of them the next day at the finish line location.

5K Course

The 5K’ers

We spent the rest of the afternoon hot tubbing and watching Justify win the Preakness.  I have a new appreciation of what those horses and jockeys put up with to race in wet, sloppy conditions.

Rather than visit another slow service restaurant, we decided to visit the grocery store instead.   We took a short drive in route to the store and got a front row seat to local flooding conditions.  The road was drivable, but just barely.

Travel day dawned hot, dry and humid.  Hard to believe it was the same place.   We packed our bags, took care of our Airbnb checklist, and headed out to do a little more sight-seeing before making the trek to the airport.   We realized we had no photos of the five of us, so using Colleen’s selfie stick, we tortured ourselves for a bit.   What a crew!  Best friends and traveling companions ever.

Our attempt at a group selfie without the selfie stick wasn’t quite as successful.

We spent our last couple of hours in Harpers Ferry exploring outside as the rain had made this very difficult on Friday.   We quickly realized that the cool, rainy weather on race day had been a blessing.   Running with temps in the 80’s and the humidity at 99% would have been far more difficult.

The original location of the John Brown fort.

Melodie, Kathy and I took a short hike up to St Peter’s Roman Catholic Church and Jefferson Rock.    It was very hot by mid-morning, but the sheer majesty and beauty of the area made it worth the climb.

Private home. Harper’s Ferry still has 286 residents.

St Peter’s Roman Catholic Church

Looking down at the town from Jefferson Rock

Jefferson Rock

Views from Jefferson Rock

Potomac River

The traffic was much lighter traveling back to the airport, so we made good time.    However, we somehow managed to take a wrong turn after getting gas which added an extra 20 minutes.  Kathy and Melodie dropped Linda, Colleen and I off at the airport first and then headed out to drop the van off at the BWI rental car center.   Unfortunately, an accident caused a road closure and for a while, they did not think they were going to get back to the airport in time.   Thankfully, the road opened at the last minute and they made it with only minutes to spare.   I ended up sitting by a fellow passenger on the flight home who had indulged too heavily at the airport sports bar.   It made my flight home rather eventful and not particularly pleasant.   However, travel complications are part of the story and we all made it home, safe and sound.   State #30 was in the books.

All our trips are special, and this one certainly earned that tag.   Despite bugs, rain, mud, floods, challenging race courses and travel complications, it was a trip for the memory books.  We have so much fun together and the bonus on this trip is that we learned a lot.  Can’t wait for the next one!

Next up, Spearfish, South Dakota.

Picking the right race to run in Illinois had been a challenge, hence the reason it didn’t get selected until state #29.   It was hard to know whether we should go for the big city dynamic, or choose a more rural setting in the countryside.   ChiTown popped as a race that would give us a little taste of both since the route ran along Lake Michigan with beautiful views of both the water and downtown Chicago.    And a huge benefit was easy travel;  one nonstop flight and a short drive to our lodgings.   After North Carolina and Alabama, we were ready for easier travel, so we signed up.

Melodie, Kathy and I were the crew again for this one.   We boarded flights in Phoenix and Oakland at 6:00 am and landed in Chicago around noon.   So simple.  After a “brief” debate between Uber, public transportation, or a rental car, we decided to rent a car.  Playing into that decision were frigid cold temperatures and the fact that Melodie had been sick and we didn’t think standing in line for buses or Uber cars would enhance our health.    And besides, with Kathy as our fearless driver and Melodie as the “no fail” navigator, the negatives for driving in Chicago traffic were minimized.

Packet pickup was only available on Thursday even though the race was Saturday, so the first thing on our agenda was to stop at Road Runner and pick up our packets.   By this point, our stomachs were growling, so lunch was next.   Chicago is known for being a foodie town, and our first experience did not disappoint.   We selected an Italian pizza restaurant called Spacco Napoli which offered authentic and amazing bread, cheese, pizza and coffee.   Not sure about healthy, but happy was not in question.

Hotels in Chicago are prohibitively expensive, particularly in the neighborhood where the race was staged, so we decided to try AirBnB instead.  Melodie found a home that met our budget and location needs, with the only caveat being we would share living spaces with our host and another couple.  We arrived at the home around 3:30, managed to snare a parking spot and followed the instructions to enter the home.   We had been warned there were three flights of stairs, but hey, we’re runners, right?   No big deal.

Well, in reality, accessing the third level of the home meant climbing 9 sections of stairs, loaded with suitcases, computer bags, running packets, and the rest of our lunch.   By the time we reached the top floor, you could have heard us breathing a mile away.    And alas, the door was not marked XXL as we had been informed, but simply had the number 3 on it.   Shoes were in front of the door and it didn’t feel right.   We looked at each other glumly and concluded we were in the wrong place.   We picked up all our bags and descended the stairway of horrors, going down being only slightly more enjoyable than going up.   We read through all the instructions once again and decided it had to be the right spot, there was no other option.   So this time, Melodie climbed the stairs sans bags, tried the key in the door, and voila, it opened.  And yes.  We got to haul all that luggage up those stairs once more.  We dug for our Pollyanna personalities and decided it was a good warmup for the race.

But the story of the Chicago AirBnB was not over.   It quickly became apparent that the state of the apartment was alarmingly below our cleanliness standards.   We considered abandoning the place and finding a hotel, but our practical natures warred against this option.   So instead, we took to cleaning.   Melodie scrubbed the bathroom from top to bottom using whatever cleaning supplies she could find, I cleaned the kitchen so we could at least use it, and Kathy vacuumed the bedroom and swept the floors.   Once all that was done, it really wasn’t a bad place, and overall we were comfortable, but it wasn’t an auspicious start.   We contacted the host who was very embarrassed and made it right by giving us a nice credit for our cleaning services.

For dinner that evening, we walked to a local watering hole called “The Reservoir”.   Thank goodness there were three of us as I’m not sure I would have been comfortable walking those narrow streets alone.   The food was amazing, but the noise level was somewhat akin to a football game.    We comforted ourselves with the notion that we were experiencing local flavor and enjoyed the food with ringing ears.  Conversation was not an option.

Although we’ve connected at Chicago Midway Airport many times on our trips, none of us had ever been in downtown Chicago or driven through the urban neighborhoods.   The architecture of the buildings was fascinating and unique.   I’m guessing many of the buildings in this area were over a hundred years old.  It’s hard to believe people still live in them, but they do, as evidenced by the many cars vying for a spot to park.  These pictures are the buildings right across the street from our AirBnB.   The mix of old and new seems to be classic Chicago.

We came to Chicago prepared for temperatures far below normal, and this held true.    For most of our visit, the temperature did not even creep above freezing and when you add wind and snow flurries, you have an environment where sight-seeing is not your first choice.  Nevertheless, we were determined to at least make an effort.   After reviewing our options, we decided to visit Navy Pier.   This 3,300 foot long pier on the  shoreline of Lake Michigan is a classic Chicago landmark and is billed as the top attraction in the area, attracting 9.3 million visitors a year.   We were reassured by the fact that there were both indoor and outdoor attractions in the event we couldn’t handle the cold.

It was truly an amazing place, despite the weather.   Our first stop was the Crystal Gardens, a beautiful indoor, one-acre botanical garden.  This six‐story glass atrium with a 50-foot arched ceiling holds over 80 live palm trees, lush foliage, hanging twinkle lights and dancing leapfrog fountains.

Next, we headed over to an outdoor exhibit called Prismatica, an interactive art installation of 25 pivoting prisms more than 6 feet tall.   Guests are allowed to wander among and manipulate the prisms for an infinite interplay of lights and color.

As our fingers started to reach the frozen stage, we made a quick visit to a couple of the outdoor sculptures that decorate the pier.    I did not realize that “Crack the Whip” existed outside of our childhood games.

We considered taking a spin on the 200 ft. Centennial Wheel or signing up for one of the cruises touring Lake Michigan, but the daunting cold won out, and we settled for taking pictures instead.

Our last stop was the Harry Caray Tavern where we stopped for lunch.  The walls and display cases were filled with pictures and jerseys from famous Chicago sports icons, including pictures of the much-loved announcer for the Chicago Cubs, Harry Caray.   We hung out for a while, enjoying the ambience and the much appreciated warmth.

We filled the rest of the day with a little shopping and a fun movie called “Finding Your Feet”.   We chose not to brave the elements by eating out again that night and had a simple meal in our little home away from home, which was by now spotlessly clean.  We tried to quit watching the weather forecast, but it drew us like a bad candy addiction. We kept checking it in hopes it would change.   The story stayed the same.  The temperature was forecast to be 21 at 7:00 am tomorrow, with winds to make it feel like 11.

We got up at 5:30 the next morning, grabbed a bite to eat, and worked on convincing ourselves that we would be ok.   These pictures tell our mood better than words.

We did not manage to snare a parking spot the night before, so had parked in a paid parking lot about a quarter mile away.   As we walked to the car, the frigid wind whistled around our ears, and stung our faces.    Somehow, I managed to drop my beanie twice; the first time a kind stranger honked and pointed it out, and the second time we were in the car and halfway to the park when I realized I didn’t have it.   Running in these conditions without a hat was not happening, so I jumped out of the car, ran back to the parking lot, and found my hat.   However, what I did not find again until the end of the race were my sisters.  Hence, no pre-race pictures with the three of us, but we make do with what we’ve got – selfies, wrinkles, hats and all.

The race start was delayed by 25 minutes because the volunteers that set up and man the aid stations were stuck in traffic.   By the time the starting gong finally went off, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to run.   However, once you start moving, habit and years of running take over, and you just put one foot in front of the other and go down the road.

My hands were too cold for much of the race to take pictures, but Melodie, as always, managed to capture some great shots of the course.    Despite the cold, it was a beautiful morning with clear, blue skies and the views were spectacular.

And then it was over.     All three of us had a good run.   Perhaps freezing to death prior to running increases one’s capability, or desire, to move quickly.   We grabbed a few finish photos and hurried back to the car and warmth.

We stayed in our room for a few hours to warm up before we could face going out again for a celebratory lunch.   We chose an Irish pub called The Northman for some delectable fish and chips, then headed across the street to top it off with something sweet.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing and planning our 2019 running calendar.    Pretty crazy, but after a race is always when the ideas fly the fastest.

We got up the next morning, checked out of our AirBnB, and headed to a local coffee shop for one more taste of Chicago.    It was a fun little spot and obviously set up for people to just come and hang out all day.   The coffee was delicious, and the food simple, but tasty.   It was a good note on which to end the trip.

As we headed back to the airport, we reflected on the things we would remember about our visit to Chicago.   Top of the list were the penetratingly cold temperatures and the biting winds, but we would also remember the incredible architecture, delicious food, friendly strangers, and our fellow Chicago drivers.  Never had we been in a city where people honked so much.   They honked to tell you your trunk was open, or you dropped your beanie, or because they didn’t think you should be in the street at just that moment, or because you took too long to move.   Didn’t really matter what the reason, the universal language of the Chicagoan seems to be a honking horn.    After a while, you don’t take it personally, you just honk back.

Goodbye, Chicago.   Glad we chose you for state #29, and even more grateful that we can go home.

Next up, Harper’s Ferry, West Virginia with all 5 of the sisters!   And it should be warm.  We’re claiming it.

Nags Head Beach

After a three month hiatus, it was time to hit the road again for a states running trip.    Running in November can be problematic as far as weather goes, so we opted for a race in Outer Banks, North Carolina in the hopes we would have moderate temperatures.  Our travel day started at a time when most sane people are still in bed.    Colleen, Kathy and I boarded a plane in Phoenix at 5:25 am, Melodie left Oakland at 5:40 am, and Janille boarded her flight from Las Vegas at 6:30 am.    We met at Chicago Midway to catch our connection to Norfolk, VA and then drove the remaining 80 miles to Nags Head, part of a string of barrier islands off the coast of North Carolina. It was an uneventful but very long travel day;  we crossed three time zones, spent a total of 5 hours sitting in airports plus 5+ hours flying, and experienced weather all across the spectrum.

The wind was howling when we arrived in Nags Head that evening, so we opted to stay at the hotel for dinner rather than brave the elements.

The next day dawned cold and windy but it was sight-seeing day and we had things to do and places to go.   We were not going to be deterred.

We fueled up on coffee, bundled up in our warmest clothes, and headed out to the beach.   There is nothing quite like the ocean, even if the weather isn’t cooperating.     As you can see, we had the beach pretty much to ourselves.

Next item on our agenda was visiting the Wright Brothers National Memorial in Kill Devil Hills.  Wind, sand, and a dream of flight brought Wilbur and Orville Wright to Kitty Hawk, North Carolina where after four years of scientific experimentation they achieved the first successful airplane flights on December 17, 1903.   They needed steady winds, an area with high sand dunes from which to glide, limited obstructions, and isolation to experiment unencumbered.  With courage and perseverance, these self-taught engineers relied on teamwork and application of the scientific process to achieve something that changed our world forever.   A 60 foot granite monument, dedicated in 1932, is perched atop 90-foot tall Kill Devil Hill commemorating the achievement of these two visionaries from Dayton, Ohio.    We stayed a while, despite the cold, blustering wind, absorbing the history and the significance of what occurred in this little Outer Banks town.

Next stop was the expo.   We wandered around for a bit, enjoying some indoor activity, and did our part to support the running industry by spending money.  The rest of the day was filled with typical pre-race day activities;  eating a delicious meal at the Black Pelican and enjoying the hotel hot tub.  We continued to haunt the weather sites, hoping and praying that tomorrow would bring warmer temperatures.

Wake up time on race day was 5:00 am ET, which was pretty much the middle of the night to this west coast crew.    We were extremely gratified to see that the winds had died down, and the temperature was a mild 50.    Melodie, Janille and I were signed up for the half marathon which started at 7:00, so we left the hotel first and headed off to the races.  An incredibly gorgeous sunrise greeted us as we walked to the race start.

We’ve done so many of these races but that 30 minutes before the bell always brings a signature mixture of excitement, apprehension, and “why am I doing this again” feeling!   This race was no different.

Colleen and Kathy signed up for the Southern 6, which meant they had a slightly later start.   They graciously gave us the car and Uber’ed to their race start at 8:45 am.

Temps may not have been perfect for standing around, but they were perfect for running.    Thanks to Janille, we have a nice group of pictures of the actual race course.  The opening refrain from Oklahoma seems particularly appropriate to describe the moment.

"Oh what a beautiful morning, 

Oh what a beautiful day, 

I've got a beautiful feeling, 

Everything's going my way".

As all races do, this one came to an end.    Melodie said it best with her post on Facebook, “North Carolina has left its footprint on us and we left a few on her this morning.   We take nothing for granted.  We are grateful.   No injuries.   No sickness.   Lots of love.”

The halfers.

And the gals from the Southern 6.

And finally, the whole crew, exhibiting again the fact that we have never quite grown up.

Typically the remainder of race day is filled with food, napping, hot tubbing, and kicking back.   However, the weatherman was promising pouring rain and wind the next day, so we decided to squeeze in a trip to visit another local attraction, the Bodie Island Lighthouse.  The current Bodie Island Lighthouse is the third that has stood in this vicinity of Bodie Island on the Outer Banks in North Carolina and was built in 1872.  It stands 156 feet tall with 214 steps that spiral to the top.  It is one of only a dozen remaining tall, brick tower lighthouses in the United States — and one of the few with an original first-order Fresnel lens to cast its light.  The light was electrified in 1932, phasing out the need for on-site keepers. The original keepers’ duplex now serves as a ranger office and visitor center for Cape Hatteras National Seashore.

Though not as well-known as its neighbors, it remains an important part of local history and a favorite spot for visitors. And still every evening, amidst the water towers and blinking radio antennae of modern development, its powerful light beams out across the darkening waves, keeping silent watch over the treacherous waters known as the “Graveyard of the Atlantic.”   It was a spot well worth visiting.

We headed back to the hotel for our final night, happy in the thought that tomorrow we would finally be able to sleep in.   However, habit dies hard with this crew, and 6:30 am found some of us packing and preparing for the long travel day.

Next stop was Barefoot Bernie, a local bar and grill with a strong beach-town flavor where we met a friend of Kathy’s for breakfast.   It was fun visiting with a local resident who could fill in a lot of gaps for us.    She told us that while Nags Head had a permanent population of only 35,000, during the busy summer months they could hit 350,000 visitors.   We were rather glad not to be competing with that number of people.

We headed back to the hotel and checked out of our rooms.  On our way out, we stopped in the lobby to say goodbye to Sabrina.  This 30-yr old cockatiel has been a permanent fixture of the Ramada Plaza in Nags Head for many years and entertains guests by chatting and posing for pictures.   Although none of us are really bird enthusiasts, we were charmed.

The rest of the day was much like the first one;  a long travel day consisting of an 80 mile drive, lots of waiting time in airports, and two flights and 6 hours of airplane travel.   We parted ways in Chicago Midway, travel weary but eternally grateful for the opportunity to travel to new places, pursue our goal to run in every state, and enjoy each other.    And we were already busy planning the next one.

Next stop, Gulf Shores, Alabama.

Once again, it was time to head out for another states race.   We selected Vermont’s Covered Bridges Half Marathon based on rave reviews from previous runners and a billing of “The Best 13.1 Running Miles in New England”.    The course was a gentle downhill, following the Ottauquechee River in the beautiful, pastoral countryside of south central Vermont.   We were in.

The running crew this time around was Kathy, Melodie and yours truly, with the added bonus of Colleen who came along for the company and to keep us in line.    An exciting milestone marked this race;   Vermont would be state #25 which means we will be halfway through!   In addition, all three of us would be running in the same age group!   60 – 64 year old females, here we come.

Every race starts with its own set of challenges.    I ended up with an abscessed tooth, but decided I wasn’t going to let that small detail change the master plan.    Kathy, Colleen and I headed for the Phoenix airport early Friday morning to be greeted with the news that our flight was delayed because of 8 malfunctioning seats.   As we had a connecting flight in Chicago with only a 50 minute layover, we were worried that our master travel plan was about to be derailed.   However, the flight from Chicago to Manchester was also delayed, so all was well.   We met Melodie in Chicago and boarded our connecting flight.

We landed in Manchester, New Hampshire at 6:00 pm, picked up our rental car, and headed out on the 90 mile drive to our hotel in Quechee Village, Vermont.    We have experienced some drives on these race trips that were less than pleasant due to traffic and poor road conditions, but this was not one of  them.     The road was open, the scenery spectacular, and the company, albeit a little road weary, the best.

We arrived at the Quality Inn in Quechee Village without incident, settled into our humble but adequate digs, and headed out to find a bite to eat.

Turns out, on Friday night at 9:00 pm, there was only one restaurant open in the entire town of Quechee Village.    “The Public House” managed to serve us some pretty good home-cooked fare so we didn’t suffer too badly.

For this trip, we had the luxury of having the entire day on Saturday to explore the area.   Generally, we have to carve out a few hours to attend an expo and pick up race bibs, but for this race, bibs would not be handed out until the morning of the race.    We hopped in the car Saturday morning and headed out to our first stop, the little town of Woodstock, population 3,027.  The Ottauquechee River runs through the town and afforded us some picturesque photo ops.  All the buildings appeared to be very old, but well cared for.   People were extraordinarily friendly and seemed to take great pride in their town.   The Covered Bridges Race is a huge event for this area and all of the local businesses went out of their way to ensure that race participants were welcomed.

Our next stop was Six Suicide, a ski resort in South Pomfret which would be the starting point for the race tomorrow.   The race director was on site and stopped by our car to introduce himself and welcome us to the race.  Everything here is steeped in history, and this ski resort was no different.  Suicide Six has claim to historical fame as a very early ski resort. In January 1934, an improvised rope tow, said to be the first ski lift in the Eastern United States, was installed on a hill located on Clinton Gilbert’s farm. The rope tow was originally powered with a Ford Model T engine.  In later years, a more reliable electric motor was installed and the operation was moved to its present location.  Devotees of ski mountaineering and backcountry skiing mark this as the beginning of the divergence of resort skiing and traditional backcountry skiing. 

Our next stop was Quechee State Park.   We stopped at an overlook and spent some time  drinking in the beauty and the majesty of the Quechee Gorge, and of course, entertaining ourselves with selfies.

Later that evening, we took a short hike down Dewey Road to the designated finish site at Polo Fields.    We were overwhelmed by the surrounding beauty; the evening light was perfect, the forest vibrant with every shade of green imaginable, and the water crystal clear.   For our nature-loving hearts, it was a little piece of heaven.

We located the finish site, stopped for a few more shots of the beautiful evening, and of each other, before heading back to our hotel.

Logistics on race morning were much easier than usual.   The Quality Inn provided a hot breakfast bright and early for race participants and we were able to walk to our shuttle bus.   We arrived at Suicide Six in plenty of time for a relaxed race start.

And once again, we were off.   Thanks to my sister Melodie, who never disappoints, we have a few pictures of the race course.     We’ve been privileged to run many beautiful races over the years, but this one truly did hit the top three, if not the top one.    In addition, the weather was perfect for running;  clear blue skies and temps between 50 – 65.

And as all things do, this one did eventually end.   We all finished standing up and in good spirits.    We grabbed a few salty treats and extra bottles of water, and headed back up the road to our hotel to collapse for a few hours.

Monday was a travel day but we had a few hours to do a little more sightseeing as our flights didn’t leave until 5:15 pm.     We stopped at the Quechee State Park Visitor Center and did a little hiking down to the bottom of the gorge.

At the Visitor Center we saw a brochure for the Sugarbush Farm, home of the famous Sugarbush Maple Syrup and waxed cheeses.   We decided we had time for a quick tour and headed up the valley to check it out.

The Sugarbush Farm has been run by the same family for three generations.   We found the whole process of harvesting maple syrup fascinating and spent some time wandering through the sheds and reading the posted literature.

And because we really are kids at heart, we couldn’t resist this photo op.

We made one more stop as we were leaving town to capture a few photos of the Taftsville Bridge, one of the bridges for which our race was named.

And so another great race weekend drew to a close.    The only flaw in a perfect weekend was our travel home.    Our flight out of Manchester was delayed once again, which put our connection in Chicago in jeopardy.   We booked later flights only to find out our connections were also delayed so we could make the original flight.   However, by that time, our tickets had been given to other delayed passengers and we had to go standby.   At the last minute we were cleared, but for some reason, the ticket agent decided not to let Colleen board and we got split up.    It was an opportunity to remember that sometimes we can’t control circumstances and we have to make the best of what we have.    In the end, we all got home safely, which is really all that matters.

Next stop, Anchorage, Alaska.

Many years ago as a fledgling HR Manager at Brooks Sports, my running colleagues told me that if ever I decided to travel and run, the Charlottesville Half Marathon belonged at the top of my list.   So here I am, 18 years later, heading to Charlottesville, Virginia with my favorite traveling companions, my four sisters.   Anticipation is sweet, even though it requires getting up in the wee hours, crossing three time zones, and a long day of air and car travel.

Linda, Colleen, Kathy and I headed to the Phoenix Airport bright and early on Thursday morning.   The master travel plan was to connect with Melodie at the Baltimore Airport, pick up our rental car, and drive into Charlottesville, VA, a 150 mile drive.

We met Melodie on schedule, picked up our rental car and hit the road at about 4:30 pm, prime time for lots of other people to be sharing the road with us.    We realized quickly that this 150 miles was going to take a while to traverse, so we stopped off at a local Mimi’s Café for a very late lunch.   The homemade muffins that accompanied our salad were so large that we figured this lunch would last us for a while.

It took us two hours to go the first 60 miles, but the company was great, so we didn’t mind too much.   We stopped at a rest area in Fredericksburg, VA and snapped our first pictures in Virginia.   We’d never seen a rest stop like this.   It resembled a fancy hotel.

We finally arrived at the Hilton Garden Inn in Charlottesville, VA at 10:00 that night, a crew of travel weary senior citizens, but still smiling and ready for our weekend of adventure.     We had discovered early on that our rental car had an unfortunate smell of stale tobacco, so we rolled down the windows to try and air things out during the night.

We awoke the next morning to the sound of thunder and pouring rain.   We had missed the hotel breakfast as we were still adjusting to the 3 hr time change, so we decided to drive to a local café.    As we ran across the parking lot in the downpour, we remembered in dismay that we had left the windows down.    The driving wind and rain had turned our smelly rental car into a very wet and smelly rental car.   Melodie and Colleen ran into the hotel and collected towels and plastic bags to try and remedy the situation as best we could.    We were able to get most of the seats dry enough to sit on with the exception of Colleen’s.   Her seat was so wet that her clothes got soaked even through the towels and plastic bags.    As she got out of the car at the café with a plastic bag sticking to her very wet jeans, we burst into gales of laughter.   It was a picture for the ages.   Colleen was a good sport and allowed us to be entertained at her expense.    Her seat never really did get dry until the very last day.

Our goal for the day was to take a few hours and absorb some of the area’s rich history.   Charlottesville is home to three of our founding fathers – Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and James Monroe.   Albemarle County is steeped in history, not just in museums, but in the very fabric of the community.   Everywhere you go, from the University of Virginia, to the local restaurants, hotels, etc., there is evidence of the roots of our national heritage.  We elected to tour Monticello, the famous home/plantation of Thomas Jefferson, the author of the Declaration of Independence and our third president.   Monticello is widely known as Jefferson’s autobiographical masterpiece – designed and redesigned and built and rebuilt for more than 40 years.  His gardens were a botanical showpiece, a source of food, and an experimental laboratory of ornamental and useful plants from around the world.   The original plantation covered over 5,000 acres and housed over 200 people including family and workers, both enslaved and free.

We were fortunate in that the weather turned beautiful as we arrived at the plantation.  We spent the first hour exploring the grounds on our own.   The grounds have been preserved, as much as possible, to replicate the way Jefferson designed them.    Some of the trees are actually originals.

The large tree pictured here is a White Linden and is presumed to be over 200 years old.

Underneath the house was the area called the “dependencies”, where the kitchen, wine cellar, ice house, carriage house, etc. was located.   There is a tunnel that goes all the way under the house and allows for access from the other side without going through the main house.

Pictured here are the gardens behind Mulberry Row, where the slaves lived and worked.   Many of the Jefferson slaves were craftsmen and developed skills other than agriculture.

Pictures are not allowed in the main house as many of the exhibits are on loan by private owners rather than the foundation.    Restoration efforts are ongoing to preserve and restore the house to its former state.  The entire experience was educational, humbling and inspiring.   It is easy to forget in today’s political world how blessed we are to have been born in a country founded by impassioned, intelligent men who had a dream, and changed the course of history by their determination to create a government where all men are entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

Here’s 4/5 of the crew waiting to board the bus back to the visitor center.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent in picking up our race packets and checking out the area for the race start.    We carb loaded at Bella’s, a local Italian restaurant, and then headed back to the hotel for a session in the hot tub and an early night.   Race mornings start early.

We crawled out of bed the next morning at 5:30 am Eastern Daylight Time, which translates to 2:30 am at home!  We pulled on our race togs, gulped down our race breakfast of coffee, cereal, and banana and headed down to the Historic Court Square for the race start.   This was a relatively small race, 1,200 participants total, so the crowds were relatively manageable.   Porta-potty lines were long, however, so we entertained ourselves by taking pictures.

And once again, we were off.     The course took us through the historic downtown area of Charlottesville, past the picturesque campus of University of Virginia, and then out to the Rivanna River Trail path.    It was described as a hilly run, and we certainly found that to be true.   Everything was either up or down for a total gain of 1,300 ft. over 13.45 miles.   The 8K’ers had much the same terrain, just a little shorter.    The weather, however, put its’ best foot forward and the temperature was perfect for running.  Everyone finished in great spirits, no injuries, and as always, the best feeling of all is crossing that finish line and realizing you are done.

Post-race pictures are always fun, particularly when you have a clown in the crew.

The 8Ker’s.

The Halfers.    Where would we be without our trusty Garmins to give us the data?

One fun thing about this race was that all 5 of us placed in our age groups and received certificates and a wine glass.   It made for a fun photo.

We headed back to our hotel and spent the afternoon relaxing, hot-tubbing, walking around the beautiful grounds of the Hilton Garden Inn, and just enjoying being together.   No matter how many times we do these states run, every time is a little different, but just as enjoyable, and contains precious, specific memories to treasure.   How fortunate we are!

Next up, Woodstock, Vermont!

After a 3 1/2 month hiatus, it was time to head out for another states run.   January can be a challenging month to find an interesting course with decent weather, but the Louisiana Half Marathon bubbled up as a course that would meet our criteria.    Melodie had to set her alarm the earliest this round as she left Oakland at 6:00 am to meet Kathy and I at Sky Harbor for a 10:00 am flight.   This particular departure was made interesting by the fact that Kathy was chasing down details on the closing of her new home right up to the minute that we boarded the plane.

For many of our states races, we have encountered weather far outside normal patterns, usually erring to the cold side.   For our Baton Rouge run, the forecast was a full 20 degrees warmer than normal, and 40 degrees warmer than it had been just the week before.   The Race Director was putting out warnings for runners to stay hydrated and be prepared for much warmer temps than normal.    For us, temps between 60 and 70 seemed pretty perfect, so we were happy.

We landed in New Orleans mid-afternoon, picked up our rental car and headed upriver to Baton Rouge.    As we pulled into the downtown area of Baton Rouge that evening, we were somewhat concerned by the overall seedy, rundown look of the area where our hotel was located.    Construction was everywhere, and some of the buildings looked dilapidated and unoccupied.

However, the Hilton Baton Rouge Capital Center was very nice and our room was great, so we decided all was well.

We ate at the Capital Grill that evening based on local recommendations, but were somewhat underwhelmed.   Even though the food was poorly prepared, however, the wait staff was extremely gracious and friendly.   Everyone was eager to help us carb load for the upcoming race.

That night as we looked out our window, we were further charmed by the view of the Mississippi River.   It was magical.

At the risk of being highly predictable and repetitious, one of the first things on our agenda was to find a decent cup of coffee.   We discovered that Louisiana natives like their coffee weak and lukewarm, two qualities not highly esteemed by Pacific Northwesterners.   We found a little local shop called “Strands” which produced coffee acceptable enough that we could continue on with our day.

Our agenda for the day was to head over to the Baton Rouge River Center, pick up our packets, and then explore the area a little further on foot.   The weather started out cool and foggy, but within a hour the sun came out.  We walked along the Mississippi River, watched the barges go by, checked out the Louisiana Memorial Plaza and USS Kidd, and immersed ourselves in the feeling of history and timelessness from the area.   Everyone we encountered was extremely friendly and ready to be your bosom buddy on the spot.

Our next stop was to locate the race start so we knew where we were headed at 6:00 am on race day.    Turns out it was staged right in front of the current Louisiana State Capitol Building.   After doing a little fact checking, we discovered that this building was erected in 1932, largely due to the efforts of Huey Long, a former Louisiana governor and US senator, who was later assassinated by Carl Weiss, a Baton Rouge physician.   Politics were a nasty business even back then.  The tower stands at 450 feet (34 stories) and is the tallest capitol in the United States.

This building replaced the Old Louisiana State Capitol building which housed the Louisiana State Legislature from the mid-19th century until the current capital tower was constructed.  It was considered the best example of Gothic Revival Architecture in the South, despite Mark Twain’s characterization of it as “pathetic” and likely the result of the medieval romances of Sir Walter Scott.  It is now a museum in downtown Baton Rouge.

We wandered around downtown Baton Rouge for a bit that afternoon and were surprised at how quiet everything was.   It was Saturday afternoon, but it felt like everything was closed and even finding a place to eat lunch was challenging.    However, later on that night, while walking back to the hotel after dinner, we did get a taste of Baton Rouge nightlife.   The streets, and the people on them, were pretty colorful and lively.   We were grateful to be walking together at that point.

Sunday morning found us crawling out of bed at 5:30 am, grabbing a bite to eat, and heading down to the race start.   The Louisiana Marathon and Half allows 7,000 participants so there were a lot of people.   Race morning was foggy, with temps in the low 60’s and humidity at 100%.  We snagged a passerby for one pre-race photo, and headed off to the races.

Thanks to my sister Melodie, we always have a couple of photos from the race course.     The course was mostly flat and picturesque, taking us through the LSU campus and rural Baton Rouge.    Despite the high humidity, conditions were very pleasant for running.

And as always, we enjoyed the run, but we enjoyed the finish even more.   At this point, we were as wet as if we had been swimming and the breeze was cool so we didn’t hang around for long.  We grabbed a post race picture and headed back to the hotel.

The other third of our party decided to run at the last minute, despite the fact that she was fighting a nasty bout of flu.  She couldn’t resist stopping to take a picture of this sign at the 12th mile, which tells us her sense of humor was still intact.   Hats off to her, she committed to a wise pace and finished smiling and without injury.    She earned that medal for certain.

The remainder of race day was pretty lazy.   The hotel did not have a hot tub which is always our favorite post-race activity, so we did a little stretching and football watching instead.   Finding somewhere to eat again proved challenging.   We decided this town only finds a pulse at night.   We ended up at a little Mexican restaurant that featured local music and brunch.  Despite what these pictures look like, we did not imbibe heavily.   These are just our relaxed faces.

Monday morning we packed up and hit the road again.   As is typical, we found our favorite place to eat as we were leaving Baton Rouge.   Magpie Café had a definite western flare and served some pretty incredible coffee and breakfast.   In addition, the entryway seemed to be designed just for us.

Our flight didn’t leave until 4:00 pm, so we decided to do some exploring in the French Quarter of New Orleans.   This was easily one of our favorite parts of the trip.   What an incredibly fascinating place, despite the fact that we all held on to our purses a little more tightly than usual.   We walked up and down streets that I have only read about;  Bourbon, Dumaine, Upper Chartres, Jackson square.  Many of these buildings date from before 1803, when New Orleans was acquired by the US in the Louisiana Purchase, although some 19th century and early 20th century building were added later.   Since 1920, these historic buildings have been protected by law and cannot be demolished, any renovations or new construction has to be carried out in accordance with regulations, preserving the historic architectural style.

After the Great New Orleans Fire of 1788, new fire codes were mandated that required all structures to be adjacent and close to the curb to create a firewall.   As a result, colorful walls and roofs and elaborately decorated ironwork balconies and galleries abound.   The streets are very narrow and oftentimes it is a squeeze for even one car to get through.   Finding a spot to park was rather challenging, and we hoped that the car would still be there and in one piece when we returned.

Street bands set up in the area where cars were not allowed.   Most of them were actually very good.  We stayed and listened to this one for a bit.   You gotta love their creativity when it comes to chairs.

Novelty performances were everywhere.   Here are just a couple that we caught on camera.

Mule-drawn carriages were the transportation of choice for many visitors.   The mules seem to take all the commotion in stride.

There were two and three art galleries on every street.   I wished I would have taken more pictures, but I was so busy looking, I forgot.   I did capture this picture as the medium the artist used was very unique.

We found a spot to eat lunch that featured beignets, a must-have eating experience for any visitor to the French Quarter.   They were as delicious as billed.   It was a great way to finish off our French Quarter visit.

We parted ways at the New Orleans Airport;  Kathy and I headed back to Arizona, and Melodie to California.   Even though we do much of the same things on these running trips, there is always something new to learn, about the area, and about each other.   We treasure each opportunity to travel and run together.

Next up, state #24, Charlottesville, Virginia.

The SHE Power Indianapolis race in Eagle Creek State Park had been on our calendar for a while.   SHE Power (strong, healthy, empowered) is an organization that encourages women from all walks of life to discover the joy and self-discovery that comes from running.   It was billed as a race that celebrates strong women and also included some pretty fun bling.  In addition, the race was done within the confines of a beautiful state park and boasted both road and trail options.   We were in.

Early Friday morning, five of us boarded airplanes from three different cities with the master plan to meet at Chicago Midway airport and drive from there.   The Seattle contingent had the honor of getting up the earliest as everything is a long way from Seattle.  We were definitely bushy tailed, if not bright-eyed, for a 5:55 am flight.

All flights took off without a hitch and we met at Chicago Midway as scheduled.   We had a few minutes to wait for Melodie,  and I amused (embarrassed) us all by modeling the latest in “protect your legs” gear.

Melodie arrived safely and on time, we caught the bus for the rental car office, and off we went to tackle the Chicago freeways in a large, black GMC Envoy, courtesy of the fact they were out of the crossover vehicle we had selected.

Even though our destination was Indianapolis, we decided to fly into Chicago and drive the remaining 160 miles because airfare was so much cheaper.   Technically, this would have been a 3 hour drive, but due to road construction and heavy traffic, the trip took 6 hours.   Added to that, the roads were rough as a cob and the Envoy drove more like a farm truck than a luxury car, so it was a good thing we had great company to take our minds off our pain.   We did enjoy the Indiana countryside for the first few hours as none of us had ever been there before.    Large scale farms stretched as far as the eye could see.

The crew on board for this trip required regular feedings, so after a couple of hours, we started looking for a place to eat.   We spotted a local pub and thought that would be a safe place to grab a pizza and salad.

Our lunch choice was made special by the fact that it was absolutely the worst pizza that any of us had ever tasted.    The menu looked harmless enough, and when they brought the pizza out, it looked pretty typical, but looks in this case were extremely deceiving.   The first bite revealed the delectable taste of cardboard, topped with tasteless canned vegetables.   The sauce was nowhere to be found.    The salad was no better.   It looked about as fresh as last year’s chicken garbage.   We looked at each other somberly, paid the bill and walked out, still hungry.  So much for pizza in Indiana.

We are a resourceful crew, however, and the bad lunch didn’t get us down for long.   In fact, it provided us with a lively conversation topic for the remainder of the drive.  We pulled into the Hampton Inn in Carmel, Indiana at 6:00 pm;  travel weary, still hungry, but ready to get started on our weekend.

C

Anyone who ever travels with us should be warned about two things;   we require frequent feedings, and we walk everywhere.    Just because we run 13.1 miles doesn’t mean we don’t need to walk.   As you can imagine from my previous tale, we were still hungry, so once we got unpacked and settled in for the weekend, we headed out on foot to find a place to eat.   The area was a mix of residential and industrial and at first, despite Siri’s help, we were not coming up with restaurants nearby.   In addition, these roads were not made for walking, nor were our shoes.

We finally ended up at a local spot called “Jimmy’s”.   After our scarring experience at the Crown Brewery, we were understandably apprehensive, but it appeared to be a local hangout and that’s usually a sign that the food is good.    While standing there debating the wisdom of entering, out of nowhere we heard a guy on a bullhorn shouting, “Chick alert, Chick alert!”   Alarmed, we looked around, and then at each other, and realized we were the “chicks”.   I was ready to bolt, but the others thought it was hilarious so we actually went inside and sat down.   It soon became very obvious why we were perceived as “chicks”.   90% of the customers were male and over 60.  The proprietor and owner of the bullhorn came over and profusely apologized for any perceived insult, but assured us they hadn’t seen anything that “good” all day.   I grabbed my menu and hid behind it while the others tried very unsuccessfully to hide their snickers.    The food was ordinary, but actually quite edible, even though we had to ask to be moved outside because of the heavy smoke.   Apparently Indianapolis hasn’t caught up with the “no smoking in public buildings” rule.   For the rest of the evening, every male customer that exited the restaurant came over to our table and flirted outrageously.  It was all it good fun, but I don’t think any of us have ever attracted so much male attention in our lives.     We blamed Laurie and Janille.

The agenda for the following day was to check out the site of our race, Eagle Creek Park, and pick up our packets.   And of course, eat and walk.   Eagle Creek Park is a fully contained park within the city limits of Indianapolis.   We were amazed that such a thing existed.   It was a little tired looking from heavy use, but the area was beautiful, particularly when you walked into the forest.

After picking up our packets, we decided to ask a local merchant for restaurant recommendations. He directed us to a restaurant called “Market Fresh” that we stuck with for the rest of our trip.   The restaurant was connected to the supermarket and all the food was fresh and delicious.   Thank goodness.   No more pizza from a can, or chick alerts.   Although the guy at the salad bar fell all over himself giving us attentive service and food samples, all the while never taking his eyes off Laurie.   Good thing her Mom was there.

June is a beautiful time of year in Indianapolis.   Flowers abounded everywhere we walked and everything was brilliantly green.

Since Laurie seemed to be the show of choice everywhere we went, we thought it fitting that she should stand under this sign for a photo op.   The cars were lining up as we went inside to eat.

Race day dawned bright and very early.   Projected temperatures and humidity were very high, so for once, we didn’t mind getting up before the crack of dawn.

The park was already filling up with cars when we arrived shortly after 6:30 am.   Race preparations were well underway.   The temperature was already 75 and the humidity registered 80.   Yikes.   We all decided to carry extra water.

This race offered two distances, quarter marathon or half marathon and could be run in a variety of different ways.   Half marathoners could run two road combos, or two trail combos, or one of each.   Quarter marathoners could choose either the trail route or the road. Both the trail and road routes were supposedly the same distance – 6.5 miles.   More on that later….

It was time to get our race face on and participate in the ritual of pre-race photo taking and watch setting.

And once again, we were off.   Not often do we get to watch the sun rise through the trees as we run.   It was magical for the first few miles.

It’s hard to say exactly why this race went so awry.   Maybe it was because it was an inaugural run, or they bit off more than they could chew with so many race options, but suffice it to say, they screwed up.     As I turned at a junction that should have been mile 4 according to my Garmin, I passed runners who were excitedly talking about a “screw up”.   Apparently some of us had already run an extra mile by doing an “extra loop” between mile 3 and 4.   I looked at my watch as I passed the mile marker for mile 4 and realized I was one of them.    My Garmin was showing 5 miles.   Ugh.   There is nothing quite so disheartening as realizing you just logged an extra mile in a 13.1 race.   I determined to be bigger than the numbers on my watch and plowed on, but the rumble around me became loud.   Runners weren’t happy.

As I completed the road portion of the race and turned on to the trail, I glanced at my Garmin once again.  7.5 miles.  Shucks.   In addition, it quickly became evident that the trail portion of the race was going to be slow going.   Roots, rocks, and an uneven surface played havoc with holding a steady pace.  I slowed down, took a deep breath, and kept going.  The trail was not marked well, so there was also the constant worry about taking a wrong turn and getting lost.  Most of the runners had stuck with the road option, which was now looking pretty wise, so much of the time I was by myself.

It took almost three hours, but we did it.   All of us.  It was a race that ran the gamut of emotions.   The adrenaline rush that comes with distance running, tempered by extreme heat and humidity, a rough trail, and the frustration that comes from running a course that is not measured or monitored accurately.   With the temperature at 92 and the humidity at 85, all of us were slowed down dramatically from our usual pace.  But we were alive to tell the story.   And still moving.   Barely.  The amazing thing is that even with all of that, we still had age group winners among us.  Kathy, Melodie and I all ended up running extra mileage, and Janille somehow got misdirected twice and ended up running 15 miles!   Laurie somehow managed to run the correct course and the correct distance.  It was that kind of weekend for her :).

Melodie was the only one captured crossing the finish line.   The photo shows a guy on bended knee handing out a red rose.   It was a sweet idea, but at this point, all anyone wanted was copious amounts of water, something salty, and a foot massage.

And so again, our story is told.   It didn’t take long before we were smiling again and telling our story.  Over, and over, and over again.   Why else do we run?

Later that night, we went out for a celebratory meal.   It is somewhat fitting that the senior member of the group looks a little tired.   But we’d do it again, in a minute.   In fact, we are planning to do just that in Sept.  Hopefully without the high temperatures and confused course monitors.

Next up, Niagara Falls, NY.