Runner Ramblings

After a blistering schedule of 7 half marathons in 2015, we decided to slow things down a bit for 2016.    Our Missouri trip was planned a respectable 10 weeks after the Georgia race, plenty of time to recover, train and ramp up for a great run.    We have learned to expect the unexpected, however, and did not let continued injury and sickness dull our enthusiasm as we boarded our flights for our next running adventure.

We selected our race for Missouri using our usual criteria;   unique, small-town experience, outside city limits with beautiful views and at least a reasonable chance for decent weather.    The Bridge and Dam Half Marathon and 10K met all of this criteria with one major caveat;   the nearest major airport was 150 miles away which meant a grueling day of air and car travel.   After some deliberation, we decided to give it a try as this was the race we really wanted to do in Missouri.   Besides, if we could make this work, it would open up a lot of really cool races we had crossed off our list as “too hard to get to”.   The Bridge and Dam Half Marathon, hosted and managed by the “Fellowship of Christian Athletes” was only in its second running.   The route followed a reservoir known as the  “Missouri Dragon” for the serpent-like shape it cuts through the land in central Missouri.   Runners are taken back and forth across a pair of bridges which span the Lake of the Ozarks, a massive reservoir created by the damming of the Osage River back in the 1930s.     We were intrigued.

Thursday started early for everyone, particularly for Kathy and Melodie who both had 4:30 am wakeup calls in order to make the first leg of their flights.   Melodie and I met at Sky Harbor at 9:00 am and flew to St. Louis, MO together where we met Kathy.    We rented our “chariot” for the weekend, a humble Corolla which turned out to be more pumpkin than chariot.    We headed out around 2:00 pm, with the first item on our agenda finding a place to eat and a good cup of coffee.  We stopped at a little deli just outside St. Louis and ordered lunch.   Kathy asked the waitress if they served coffee.   She looked at us a little puzzled and said, “Yes, I can make you some coffee”.    After waiting what seemed a rather long time, she came out with our sandwiches, and some very light-looking coffee, telling us they were all out of cream.   We told her we would use milk, but apparently they didn’t have any milk either.   She ended up bringing us a small carton of soy milk, which would have been acceptable if the coffee had been drinkable.   It was ghastly – lukewarm and flavorless.    We complained gently to the waitress, and she told us, “I’m sorry, but people don’t usually order coffee for lunch around here.   Everyone drinks tea.   I think this is the first coffee I’ve made since I’ve worked here”.   We didn’t even dare ask how long that had been.  She offered to make us another pot, but by then, we decided it was much safer to stick with water, and try our luck with coffee some other place.

We pulled into Lake Ozark, MO around 5:00 pm.   Kathy had researched local accommodations for us months in advance and reserved us a room in the best spot in the Ozarks.

Unfortunately, when we arrived, they had no record of our reservation.  Apparently there had been a disconnect between Expedia and the Lodge reservation system.  The manager very graciously reassured us he would find us a room, even though there was “no room at the inn”.   Crisis averted, we finally headed upstairs to our room.

The Lodge was aging, like some of us, but very unique and worthy of a little historical mention.  Harold Koplar, the founder of the Lodge of Four Seasons, had a vision to create an unequaled experience in a remote area that would bring enjoyment to people of all ages.   He brought in a Japanese landscape artist, Buffy Murai, who designed all of the lodge scenery.   This waterfall runs right through the middle of the lodge and can be viewed as you climb the stairs.

Relaxing in our rooms after a long travel day, we drank in the beautiful sunset before heading out to find the hot tub, a necessary component of any running trip.

As beautiful as the lodge was, it did not have some of the basic amenities, such as breakfast on site.    So Friday morning found us touring the little town of Lake Ozark, pop 1, 586, in search of some decent breakfast and the long-awaited cup of coffee.    We hit the jackpot at a little spot called “Blueberries Bistro”, which offered everything our hearts and palates could ask for.

After breakfast, we took some time to walk around the Lodge and absorb the flavor of our eclectic venue.    One of our favorite things of the entire weekend was the beautiful, flowering purple flowers we saw everywhere.   Although it was still clearly winter in Missouri, these purple flowers were heralding spring.   We learned later this tree is called Eastern Redbud and is an early spring bloomer that grows prolifically in the mid-west.

The Lodge of the Four Seasons prides itself on a tradition of exclusive, irreproducible décor from places like Madrid, Guadalajara, Japan, with a little country-western thrown in for variety.

Having done so many of these running trips, we have fallen into a bit of a routine, which I am sure is obvious to any of you reading these blogs.   Top of the list is always finding good places to eat, making sure we walk at least 3 miles pre-race day, and getting the flavor of the local culture.   This trip was no different.   We walked to a little pizza place mid-afternoon, and enjoyed our late lunch and a view of the water.   This entire town exists around this winding reservoir called Lake of the Ozarks.   At this time of year, the town was still sleepy, but by May, the locals told us it would be bursting at the seams with visitors seeking every type of water sport imaginable.

It was a trip for early wakeup calls.    The Saturday race was scheduled to begin at 7:30 am which meant getting up at 5:00 am to eat, dress, and get to the race start in time to park and walk across Bagnell Dam to get to the start line.    Along with 173 half marathoners, and 90 10Kers, we showed up at 7:00 am, accompanied by a biting, cutting wind and a temperature of 34 degrees.     These pictures tell the story, which includes a delay of 20 minutes at the start line waiting for a few stragglers to join us.  We were freezing!

There will be those who wonder why we do this.   Sometimes as we stand shivering in the early morning air, we wonder too.  But as soon as the buzzer goes off and we head down the road, we remember.

The wind never really let up, and there were many, many hills, but it was a great run.    We ran across Lake of the Ozarks twice, and the views were spectacular.

One of the nicest thing about every race is that it ends.    All three of us did well, despite our varying challenges, and we celebrated together with the small handful of people who hung around and braved the wind.    The wind was blowing so hard it blew the finish line timer down, it was just that kind of day.

These pictures are some of my favorite.  They demonstrate the heart and soul of running because you love it, and each other, and little hindrances like a howling wind can do nothing but muss hair that is always a mess anyway.   And these sisters of mine, they are the absolute best.

As always, we celebrate each run by splurging on a really nice meal.   We chose Baxter Lake Grille and enjoyed a spectacular meal with exquisite views.

Late that evening, we decided we needed to eat again, another very predictable situation, and ended up choosing a local pub based on the fact that it seemed to attract the biggest crowds.   Diametrically different than our lunch experience, it was still enjoyable.   I was even able to ignore the flying peanut shells and embrace the experience.   Kathy and I may look drunk, but we were not.   Melodie was the only one smart enough to order alcohol that tasted good.    Don’t ever order wine at a pub.   Not a good idea.

And so another race weekend comes to a close.   Four days go by so fast, and though there is much that is the same about these running trips, there is always something that is different and memorable.     We get up early, one more time, and head back to the St. Louis airport.   We are old enough that we don’t take things for granted anymore;   neither the chance to be together, nor the ability to keep running.

Next stop, Indianapolis and the SHE Power Race!

After a four month hiatus, our expectation was that we would be rested, trained and ready to go for our first 2016 states race.   Alas, those four months did not go as planned.    Injuries and serious illness kept us from consistent training, but we decided not to sweat the small stuff and give it the best we had.   Besides, it was an opportunity to spend 4 days with the 5 sisters and nasty respiratory viruses and arthritic joints were not going to get in the way.

Flying in from Phoenix, Seattle, and Oakland, the five of us met at the Atlanta airport.    The Hartsford-Jackson Atlanta International Airport has been the world’s busiest airport since 1998, averaging 250,000 passengers daily and 2,500 flights.   The airport feels more like a small city than an airport and getting from point A to point B is challenging.   We managed to figure out our way through the elaborate train system, and met at the Alamo rental counter to pick up our rental car.  Colleen was elected chauffeur for the weekend and off we headed in our trusty Dodge Journey.

The race we selected for Georgia was located in Callaway Gardens Resort in Pine Mountain, approximately 72 miles southwest from the Atlanta airport.    Pine Mountain boasts a population of 1,344 and just a handful of small town restaurants, stores, and gas stations.   However, it is billed as the friendliest city in the South, which we found to be the case.   It was dark by the time we pulled into Mountain Inn, the check-in site for Callaway Gardens, so we decided to eat at the restaurant on site and leave exploring for the next day.

Each race has its own unique experiences, but the Callaway Gardens race will forever be remembered as the race where we wandered.   The locals seemed to think that getting around was straightforward and intuitive, so directions were sadly inadequate, creating a steep learning curve in finding our way around.    That first night, we took the long way home, wandering around in the dark for over 30 minutes before finally arriving at #2119/2120.

Our Southern Pine Cottage was old, but clean and comfortable.   Our biggest challenge that first night was a furnace that would only blow cold air.   Since the current temperature was below freezing, we found this unacceptable.   A call to customer service yielded a lot of sympathy, an offer to move us to a different cottage, promises for a repairman and a load of blankets, none of which materialized.   Fortunately, we are an enterprising crew and made use of the wood fireplace and figured out that if we turned off the auto fan, the furnace would eventually heat the place up.

After 18 of these races, we have developed a bit of a routine.   The most important thing on the agenda pre-race day, is finding a good place to eat.    The Callaway Gardens Resort listed a number of fine restaurants, but because we were there in the off-season, many of them were closed.   We selected the Country Gardens Kitchen, which boasted a true Southern Breakfast Buffet, as the place to eat breakfast.   The map we were provided resembled a kindergarten child’s drawing, with no road names or NSWE directions, just a lot of little squiggly shapes and some roads.    Nothing pulled up on our iPhones except the Ida Memorial Garden, but we decided that would get us close enough, so we plugged it in and off we went.   After wandering around for almost an hour, we arrived at the cemetery only to realize that the little squiggly building on the map that we thought was the restaurant, was not it at all.    We may be map-challenged, but we are a good-natured crew, even though all of us were starving.   We regrouped, figured out where we went wrong, and eventually wound up at the right place, long after the breakfast buffet was closed.

Breakfast turned into lunch.   Wanting to experience the local cooking, I ordered a chicken sandwich, southern style, complete with fried green tomatoes.   Suffice it to say, I tried it, but have no need to try it again.  I was, however, charmed by water served in pint jars.

Kathy, enjoying some down-home, Southern vegetable soup.   Her menu selection was much wiser than mine.   But then, no one would dispute her wisdom on most any topic.

We stepped outside the restaurant to snap a couple of shots of the resort.   It was picturesque, even in the dead of winter without the flowers.

After lunch, we headed over to Robin Lake to pick up our packets and enjoy the lake.    It was truly beautiful, and by this time, the temperature was close to perfect.   We walked around the lake for some pre-race exercise, thoroughly enjoying the Georgia sunshine.

For dinner that night, we googled the best restaurant in Pine Mountain and came up with a little hole-in-the-wall pizza place.    Locals claimed we’d get the best food for our buck in all of Pine Mountain.  With some trepidation, we drove up to a very unprepossessing spot called Fox’s Pizza and ordered pizza.    It was absolutely delicious and probably the best meal we had all weekend.    We were a little embarrassed when we realized how much we had eaten, but decided it was acceptable “carb loading”.

After a little sleuthing through the trees, we found the hot tub on the property that night and indulged in a much appreciated soak.    We all went to bed early in anticipation of an early morning wake-up call, but for whatever reason, none of us slept very well.    All of us were up a full two hours early, and sat around and ate breakfast and visited before leaving for the race.   Now, that’s a first, but it made for a very relaxed race morning.

Our biggest apprehension pre-race start was the temperature, 33 degrees at 7:30!   We sat in the car for a bit, then braved the cold for the inevitable standing around and photo taking before the race.   This was a very small race – only about 200 people, but the lines were still in all the usual places.

And we were off.   Melodie caught a couple of great shots during the race.    It was a storybook morning.   Crystal clear, just cold enough to be energizing, and absolutely perfect for running.

The course was a bit hillier than we expected, but everyone did well, despite the challenges of illness and injury.    And in keeping with our race routines, we took copious photos, only some of which I will subject you with here.

The 5K crew celebrating their finish.    It’s not hard to figure out where Tony gets his goofiness.   I’m so proud of these gals.   At an age where many people choose to park in their rocking chairs, they are out conquering hills.

Yours truly.

And my little sis.   She is amazing.   She had been sidelined with a nasty bug for three weeks prior to this race and had not been able to train at all.   In addition, her heart was heavy with worry over her little granddaughter, Fiona, who was very, very ill.  Despite all this, she had one of her best races, and came in with a smile.   She’s made of tough stuff, this girl.

In it for the long run, here’s the halfers.   This is the 22nd time Melodie and I have run a half marathon together.   God willing, we will be able to do many more.

The crew.   Best friends forever, showcasing a penchant for pink.

After dinner that night, we decided to drive to a small country store and pick up some cookies to top off a great day.    While Melodie, Linda and I waited in the car, Kathy and Colleen went into the store to see what they could find.   Not finding what she wanted, Kathy approached the clerk, a young man of about 18 or 19.   “Do you have gingersnaps?”, she asked.   The young man, looking very puzzled, remarked, “Ma’am, we don’t sell ammunition here.”   Kathy and Colleen were still convulsed with laughter when they came back to the car.    Gotta love the local flavor.

And so another race weekend wound to a close.     It was so good to spend time together, stretch our legs a little, and just enjoy each other.   We find we don’t need quite as much entertainment these days.   We seem to entertain each other just by being ourselves.    We are truly blessed.

Goodbye, Georgia.

Next up, Lake Ozark, Missouri.

Rhode Island was our first New England state so we approached race weekend with heightened excitement and anticipation.   We had a great crew on board for this race;  Melodie, Kathy, Colleen, Janille, Laurie and yours truly.   We had rented a VRBO home in Westerly that was within walking distance of Misquamicut Beach, the location for the race start.   The planners had done their jobs and all was in place for a great running weekend on the Atlantic seaboard.

Friday morning started bright and early with a text from Southwest at 2:20 am.   “We are sorry to inform you but your 6:30 am flight has been delayed and is now rescheduled for 8:20 am.”   I leaped out of bed and ran downstairs to check my computer, hoping and praying that the text was an error.   Alas, our plane had a mechanical malfunction and they had to bring in a replacement plane from Denver.   And this takes time.   Although the 6 of us were coming from 4 different locations – Oakland, Salt Lake City, Phoenix and Seattle – we had synced up our itineraries to meet in Chicago and fly the second leg together to Providence.  This delay was going to put a serious wrinkle in our well-laid plans.  Kathy, Laurie and I decided our best bet was to head out to SeaTac as scheduled and talk with the SW agents in person to find the best alternative available.

Two hours later, three very discouraged travelers accepted the fact that there was no way we were going to get to Chicago in time for our connecting flight.    All SW flights to the east coast were totally booked and SW’s best suggestion was to take the delayed flight, and then take a red eye that would put us in Rhode Island at 1:00 am!   We didn’t like that answer so we decided to do some sleuthing on our own.   We decided to fly into Chicago on our delayed flight, sign up for standby on any flight we could and slowly inch our way closer to our end goal.    Long story short, in Chicago, we hopped a VERY crowded flight to Orlando (no personal space available on this one) and then managed to catch a hop to Providence, getting in at 11:00 pm.   By this time, Melodie, Colleen and Janille had solved their own transportation problem by using UBER, thus leaving the rental car for us, so at least we had wheels when we arrived.   Just when we thought the excitement for the day was over, Melodie sent us an SOS that one of the beds in the rental home was closer to board than bed and no one could be expected to sleep on it.  Using our trusty iPhones, we located a Walmart nearby, purchased a bed topper and showed up at the rental home in Westerly, RI at midnight.    Of course we woke everyone up, dumped Janille out of her wooden bed and remade it with a topper, and finally, the first day was done.

The “Rock” turned out to be a very nice, comfortable place to stay, once we got the bed issue sorted out.   It was located in Westerly in the beautiful Rhode Island countryside, with homes ranging from humble to mansion, and huge yards with rolling lawns everywhere.

Our transportation for the weekend was a fiery red Suburban, which quickly earned the moniker of “Tank”.  Laurie, being the only one of the group with any east coast experience, was elected driver for the weekend and she did an admirable job herding both the beast and the girls around.

As with all of our running trips, the most important item on the agenda for pre-race day is finding good food to eat.  We found an Irish Pub that entertained us with walls plastered with plaques and pithy sayings, as well as served a great breakfast.

Having crossed breakfast off our list, we decided to walk down to the beach to pick up our packets rather than drive.    It was a mild 2 mile walk, although some of the party felt like we were gilding the lily with additional exercise.   It was a day made for walking;   temps in the 70’s, blue sky, and the beautiful, bucolic countryside stretching out for miles.

Once we got down to the beach, however, the weather changed for something a bit more predictable.  Blustery, windy, and positively cool, enough so that we marveled at the locals sunbathing and surfing.   Nonetheless, it was the ocean and endlessly fascinating to watch.   For 4 of us, it was our first glimpse of the Atlantic ocean.

Heading home, we played tourists by posing on a very large child’s chair.     We are easily entertained as this provoked a great deal of giggles and laughter.   Not a mature woman could be found among us.

All the walking made the Fitbit users among us happy and also provided motivation for more eating.    We found an Italian restaurant that served delightful pizza and proceeded to carb load in preparation for race day.

Race day always comes early, but this is particularly true when you are dealing with a three hour time difference.   We dragged ourselves out of bed at 5:30 am, donned our race duds, jumped in the car, and headed down to Misquamicut Beach.    An expected rainstorm had made an appearance, and the road was completely covered in water in places, making us somewhat apprehensive about race conditions.  However, once the gun went off and we headed down the road, the rain eased off and the water abated quickly.

Colleen ran the 5K, so she kindly served as photographer as the half marathoners came across the finish line.

Some worthy things to note about these finish line pictures.  Janille, Melodie and Kathy are all smiles, Joanne looks all business, and Laurie doesn’t look like she is ready to kill anyone!   Everyone did awesome.   Success.

And of course, we entertained ourselves with countless post-race pictures.  Surftown Half was Laurie’s first half marathon.   She trained well and had a great run.   I was so proud of her!   Laurie was glad to have Janille there to provide moral support as well as some much needed representation from the “younger” set.

Kathy and Laurie trained together all summer for this half.   It was Kathy’s second half and Laurie’s first.   They were an unstoppable team.

The crazy trio.   Running a half marathon always makes you just a little more crazy than usual, so it puts this crew in a special place.

The full complement of halfers, complete with CW-X compression capris and Brooks shoes.

The sisters, minus one.   Keeping it real.

The gals who started it all.    We’ve run 20 half marathons together, and we intend to run 32 more!   Just don’t get in our way.

Gear.   You gotta love it.   Compression capris and Brooks shoes were the order of day.   We had complete strangers stop us and ask us about our capris.    CW-X got some free advertising on Surftown Race Day.

Being old continues to have benefits.  The age group awards were distinctive and original, and much appreciated.

The highlight of the entire trip came soon after.    We decided to take a walk in the ocean and let the cold salt water refresh and rejuvenate our tired, achy joints.    Some of us were really into this, and others, let’s just say they were taken by surprise by a cold wave that drenched their backsides.    Colleen did a masterful job capturing the moment.   This picture says it all;   running, girl power, and embracing the moment.

We decided to treat ourselves to a special eating experience the day after our race.   (I realize these blogs talk a lot about eating :).)  Tim recommended the Coast Guard House, a unique coastal restaurant that overlooks the ocean at Narragansett Bay.    This area was much different than Misquamicut Beach and we were glad we made the drive over to get some additional RI flavor.

The food did not disappoint, nor did the views.   The clam chowder was the best part of the whole meal.   It was truly exquisite.

We walked along the beach after dinner and took a few night shots of the beach and the restaurant.   It was a magical moment.   The ocean at night truly speaks to your soul.

We spent our last hours on Rhode Island, you guessed it, eating.   We found a delightful little lunch spot called Oceanside on the Pier and ate outside while we took in the ocean views one more time.    Our waitress was a delightful local that had lived in Rhode Island her entire life and spoke with a very strong Rhode Island drawl.  It made the whole experience feel authentic and memorable.     For such a short visit, we felt we were able to really get a feel for the area and the culture.    It was truly lovely.

Another run completed, another experience to cherish.

Next up, Callaway Gardens in Pine Garden, Georgia.

Wyoming ended up being the last western state on the schedule for many reasons.   Races scheduled in Wyoming are few and far between, travel logistics tend to be challenging, and all of the races we looked at were at high elevation and extremely hilly.   With all of these factors to consider, we kept pushing it off our calendars until this year. We found this little gem of a race buried on FlipKey, a TripAdvisor site, in a 50 States Series list of “Top Marathons and Races Worth Traveling For”.   Nestled in between the Grand Teton National Forest, Bridger National Forest, and Jackson Hole, Wyoming, Star Valley was billed as an ideal location for a unique, summertime mountain race.  We registered for the race, bought our airline tickets (which for some of us included legs on 3 different airlines), rented a car for the drive from Idaho Falls Airport and were off on another running adventure.

Lodging for this particular race also posed a challenge.   The little town of Thane, WY, home of the Star Valley Half Marathon, boasts a population of 364 and hotels, motels, and cabins for rent can be counted on one hand.   If you are willing to travel another 15 miles south to Afton, WY, where the population is a thriving 1,920, there are a few more options to choose from.   We reserved a cabin at Mountain Inn Condos which was located at the edge of town on the new Johnny Miller Signature Golf course.     The pictures online looked lovely, and as we drove into town that evening after driving 105 miles from Idaho Falls Airport, the view did not disappoint.

We had a fun crowd on board for our Wyoming adventure.   Two of our nieces, Janille Baker and Sharon Conrad, had driven from Baker, Nevada and EskDale, Utah to join us.   We checked out the cabin, and although small, it was clean and seemed to meet our needs, as well as giving us a flavor of “backcountry” Wyoming.

A big first on this trip was that Kathy would be running her first half marathon.   After years of dipping her foot in the water with 5K’s, 10K’s, even a 15K, she decided to embrace the challenge of a 13.1 mile half marathon, undaunted by an elevation at race start of 7,000 ft and a steep, downhill course!   Melodie presented her with a gift to mark the occasion.

Melodie also found a shirt that she just couldn’t resist buying for me.

Both shirts were smashing successes, despite that fact that the keen eye of the editor/schoolteacher amongst us caught a small problem with the year on Kathy’s shirt.

I headed upstairs to our cozy loft bedroom and stood for a minute at the rail, just absorbing the feel of the place.   As I leaned over the rail, I saw a scurrying movement below.  I couldn’t believe it.  Initially, I was accused of making up stories, but as one little hairy rodent after another peeked out from under the fridge, all occupants of the condo became believers.  For the first time ever, I heard Melodie shriek.  After the initial shock of discovering the rodent occupation, Sharon, our resident photographer, tucked her feet carefully under her and started taking pictures.

After our heart rates returned to normal, we realized we had a problem.   A BIG problem.   It was 10:00 pm in a little town where no one staffs a 24 hr customer service line and we needed help.   None of us were willing to sleep with these little critters.   After multiple attempts, I finally located someone who answered an emergency line for the condos.    She was pretty nonchalant about the mice, apparently most Afton residents live with mice, but she understood that we didn’t want to.    There was nothing else available for our 3 day stay at Mountain Inn Condos, so she advised us to call around town for different lodging.   After hours of fruitless calling, we realized that we were getting nowhere so we called the emergency line once again.  Long story short, several hours later, we moved all our belongings into another Mountain Inn condo for the night, and the next day we were given two smaller adjoining condos which actually worked very well for the rest of our stay.    All’s well that ends well.   But the mice were a first.   And a last, I sincerely hope.

The next morning, after moving all our belongings for the third time, we set out in search of breakfast and coffee.     The general consensus was that as long as we could find food and coffee, good moods would prevail.

After breakfast, the planners among us decided we needed to scope out the race course.  We drove up the mountain to the entrance of Bridger National Forest where the race would begin.   In an area that boasts 157 inches of snow a year, in July the dramatic natural beauty of the valley was breathtaking.   We decided with surroundings like this to focus on, the race would be doable, no matter how steep and rocky the course.

We stopped at Thayne Elementary School that afternoon to pick up our race packets.    We’ve done this a thousand times by now, but it still manages to be exciting, and makes us a bit goofy.

On the way back to our condo, we ran into a torrential rainstorm.   For a few minutes we couldn’t see the road for the driving rain.    As quickly as it came, it left.   And left behind one of the most beautiful triple rainbows any of us have ever seen.

We stopped at a local steakhouse for another meal after which the FitBit users amongst us decided we needed to walk for a couple miles to get in the requisite 10,000 steps for the day.    At 7,000 ft, everything felt like exercise, even a mild evening walk.

Race morning rolled around early.   We boarded shuttle buses at Thayne Elementary at 6:00 am for a 7:00 am race start.   The weather put on its finest garb for the event, however, and the morning dawned clear and dry.   It was a perfect day for running down a mountain.

The first two miles were steeply downhill but after that, it was much more gradual for the remaining 11 miles.    We ran down the road to the accompaniment of horses whinnying and showing off their colors, local dogs barking and running alongside us, and families with small children sitting by the roadside banging instruments and cheering us on.   The race was all it was billed to be; spectacularly beautiful, with the friendly atmosphere of a small town race.

And across the finish line we came.   Thanks to Sharon, this part of the race is far better photographed than usual.     The pictures tell the story.

Yours truly.

Janille…

The little sister…

The other little sister….first timer.   Big time congrats were in order.   Hugs all around.

Finishers, with a kick.

The data.

We snagged a couple of second place awards in our age groups.    It was a good day all around.

We headed back to the condo for a relaxing afternoon that included a delicious post-race meal at a local Mexican restaurant, and a quick swim to loosen up muscles abused from all the downhill running.    For dinner that night, we walked down to a local drive-in and indulged in old fashioned shakes and fries, served to us by car hops.    Healthy!!!   But hey, we figured we earned it.

Another amusing element to this particular trip was the consistent theme in our clothing choices.   After spending the years of our childhood dressed in uniforms, you’d think we would try harder to look different, but not us.   Every time we turned around, we found ourselves dressed exactly the same from head to toe.    Oh my.

We packed up and headed home the next morning, a bit sore, but much richer in terms of new memories and experiences.     Thanks again to Janille and Sharon for making our trip even more enjoyable and for providing lots of great photos!

Next stop, Westerly, Rhode Island.

Author’s note:   I wrote this blog several days before my Dad’s passing on May 15.    My aching heart could not bridge the gap between my grief and the ordinary details of life, so it has sat unpublished in my inbox.   Today, I post this in honor of one of Dad’s last remarks.  “Put on your shoes and socks.   Let’s go for a walk.”    Goodbye, Dad.   We will always miss you.

**********

We selected Lake Minnetonka Half Marathon as our Minnesota race for a couple of reasons.   One, it appeared on Runner’s World’s list as a must-do for Minnesota; and two, the race course was literally in Jenni Wright’s backyard, only a couple of miles from the town where she grew up.    Having someone to help us navigate the area was certain to make the whole trip flow just a little easier.

Our experiences in Montana, Kansas, and Kentucky had taught us that there was no such thing as predictable weather.    Minnesota weather in May can run the gamut, so we watched Lake Minnetonka weather forecasts closer than a shaky investor watches the Dow.     It seemed too good to be true, but the upcoming weekend in the Land of 10,000 Lakes was shaping up to look positively perfect.

Melodie, Kathy, Erika and I met in the Minneapolis-St. Paul Airport on Friday night.    We hit our first trip snafu when a fellow passenger decided to pick up Erika’s bag rather than her own.   After several hours of fast talking and frustration, we finally left the airport with the expectation that the airport would call once Erika’s bag was located.   Fortunately, the guilty passenger called Erika within an hour, the wayward bag was located, and everyone took a deep breath.

The next morning we decided to combine a pre-race walk with a search for breakfast and a great cup of coffee.  With the aid of our trusty iPhones, we landed at the Creekside Café in the Crowne Plaza Hotel.  In our flip flops and shorts, we were a bit underdressed for the venue, but since we had the whole place to ourselves, no one seemed to mind.   Breakfast and coffee were both good enough for repeat experiences.

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We had a few hours to relax before race packet pickup, so we headed back to the hotel to hang out in the hotel swimming pool with the cutest little girl ever.   Having Erika and Jenni along on this trip meant we got to spend some precious hours watching this bright, expressive little girl enjoy her world.   It was the highlight of our trip.

Next stop was race packet pickup at a local middle school which we dispatched with quickly, and then it was time for a late lunch.     On the recommendation of a local, we went to an “artisan chic” restaurant nestled on the shores of Lake Minnetonka called 6Smith.   The food lived up to its billing, but the view was even better.    A little indulging occurred at this meal, but with a half marathon relay and race on the docket for tomorrow, indulgence was in order.

After lunch, Jenni’s Mom, Sue Beise, graciously invited us over to her home located on 2 1/2 acres in the beautiful Hamel countryside.    Miss Fiona was in seventh heaven with room to run and explore, and two dogs to play with.

Race day rolled around bright and early on Sunday morning, as it inevitably does.   As we headed over to Starbucks for a quick bite to eat at 6:00 am, the temperature was already hovering above 60 and there was not a cloud in the sky.

We hopped aboard the shuttle at Wayzata Middle School at 6:30 am and headed down to the lake for the race start.    Delighted beyond measure at the beautiful weather, we were as giddy and goofy as teenagers.

At the race start, we snapped a couple more pre-race shots and said goodbye to Kathy as she boarded another shuttle for the relay exchange area.  Jenni was running the first 5.5 miles, and would then hand off to Kathy at the exchange point to bring it home.

Adrenaline running high, the rest of us took our respective spots, and the race was on.

13.1 miles is a long way to run any way you slice it, but on this particular morning, the miles slipped by more quickly than usual.   We were running alongside beautiful Lake Minnetonka, on a mostly flat, paved surface and the sun was shining.   It just doesn’t get much better than that.    We crossed the finish line that morning grateful for each other, the beautiful weather and countryside, and for the ability to run.

Traditions run pretty deep with this crew and that includes taking copious pictures at the finish line.  So although we do not look coiffed and pristine, we endured the ritual (torture) of photographing ourselves after 2+ hours of running.

We snapped a couple more pictures of Lake Minnetonka as we headed back to our shuttles.   One more race in the books.

We said our goodbyes the next morning at Davanni’s.    Little Fiona was the star of the weekend.   We enjoyed being with her so much.   There is nothing more contagious than the joy and wonder of a toddler experiencing the world.    Everything is new and exciting.

Our attempt to pull off one last original pose fell a little flat, but it is a good representation of our weekend.   Fun, a little crazy, and just hanging together.

Next stop, Star Valley, Wyoming.

Our calendars had been marked for this race for a long time.   RunTheBlueGrass Half Marathon and 7 Miler was not only billed as one of the prettiest half marathons in the United States, but the area is a mecca for horse lovers.    However, as race day drew near, we watched the weather forecast with growing horror.   Rather than the formerly predicted lows in the 40’s, highs in the 60’s,  the weatherman was talking about lows in the teens, and highs in the 20’s!!!   We packed every piece of warm race clothing we owned, and boarded the plane for Louisville, KY with fear and trepidation.

Because of the storied area we were visiting, we scheduled a couple of pre-race activities to immerse ourselves in the history of the area.  Early Friday morning, we braved the cold to drive to Keeneland, the location chosen for our race, to participate in a tour of the facility.   Keeneland includes the Keeneland Race Course, a state of the art Thoroughbred training facility, and the largest Thoroughbred horse auction house in the world.    It is located right in the middle of Bluegrass Country, a 68 mile area which claims to house 55% of the world’s Thoroughbred horses.

Last year during their annual yearling sale, Keeneland ran 2,500 horses through their 3-day auction, amassing a total of $280 million in sales.  A volunteer took us through the auction house and talked to us about the incredible amount of detail and organization that goes into pulling off an event of this size, involving buyers from all over the world.

After touring the barn, we went outside to tour more of the huge facility.   However, despite our guide’s best attempts to keep everyone interested, he just couldn’t compete with cold bracing winds and a temp of 20.    After a few more quick pictures, we all fled to the Keeneland Track Kitchen in search of breakfast and a hot cup of coffee.

Next stop was the Race Expo, also located on Keeneland’s facility.    We picked up our packets and posed for the customary race pic (with a little twist) before heading back outdoors again.

Hoping to see some of the horses doing their morning workouts, we wandered around the race track for a bit.   Even the horses looked cold.

After this, it was back to the hotel for a quick nap;  the 3 hour time difference was taking its toll.   That evening we attended a pre-race dinner at Ballantrae Farms, which included an inspirational guest speaker – Harvey Lewis, the winner of last year’s Badwater Ultramarathon in Death Valley.   In keeping with the theme of the day, however, the barn chosen to host the festivities was freezing!!   Half of the electrical outlets weren’t working, the only heat source was 3 portable heaters located on one side of the huge barn.  Part of the evening’s entertainment involved sampling some of Kentucky’s best bourbon, another one of its’ trademark industries.  Colleen wanted nothing to do with it and fled to the other side of the barn in search of heat, but the rest of us gave it a try.  It was not a repeatable experience.   The meal, however, was delicious, but we were so cold by then all we wanted was for it to be over.

One of the highlights of the evening was a quick visit to the barn housing the new foals.    These little gangly creatures are worth hundreds of thousands in just a few short months.

Saturday morning finally arrived.    At the crack of dawn, we put on our fourteen layers of clothes, and headed out to the race course.    Race time temperature was 19, with the caveat, “feels like 14”.   It was the coldest we have ever been prior to a race.   Our hands and feet were solid blocks of ice.  The biggest worry was how many layers to keep on.

But in the end, once we started moving, our focus moved to other things, like running hills.   13.1 miles, or 7 miles, depending on your pleasure, of beautiful, rolling hills, not a flat spot to be had.    Most of us ended up carrying some of our layers as we toiled up the unending hills.  We did try to stop and smell a few roses on the way, however, as even with a winter coat, Lexington, KY is beautiful.

And as Melodie likes to remind us, it does end.    And at the end, it is suddenly very easy to reflect on how blessed we are.     Even though we have all long passed the blush of youth, we are still learning, loving, running together, and experiencing the joy of achieving a challenging goal.

Next stop, Lake Minnetonka, MN.