Barn

This photogenic little barn lives on Poplar Grove Lane.

I drove over to visit it on my day off Monday.

The weather was absolutely frigid, 

but the barn didn't seem to mind at all.

I, on the other hand, had to take pictures from the warmth of my little car, 

lest my fingertips finally surrender and fall right from my hands.

I used the frigid temperatures to avoid doing any running, which is really unacceptable; however, neither my fingertips nor my legs complained at all with my decision.

My goal this week is to use the gym at work during lunch.  It's indoors, like most gyms are.  It's also free.  So there is absolutely no excuse not to exercise.  None whatsoever.

It's so hard to get back in the swing of things after your life has been disrupted by accidents, surgeries, holidays and trips away from home, but I vow to do it.

No more excuses.

This and That

These are recycled from February 2013 but are as good as new to me since I haven't seen them in a while. This dock and boat, in their advanced state of deterioration, really appeal to me.

But then again I don't get out much.

And I'm very easily entertained.

Growing up in Mathews in the days before technology, the back yard was the cable TV, the internet, the cell phone, the Netflix, everything. You made your own fun.  Luckily I've not forgotten those days and am still very much amused by almost nothing at all.

It's either a life skill or some form of insanity, I'm not sure which.

Not to sound like a broken record, but things are busier than ever at work and at home--especially work. This weekend is a long one, though, thanks to the federal holiday on Monday.

Saturday morning bright and early, Baby Sis and I will jog a 10K over in New Kent at a winery, a first for us.  We'll trot up and down hills and meander through neighborhoods and with any luck be rewarded with wine and chocolate at the finish.  I dread the running in this cold, cold weather but look forward to the rest.

Baby Sis is trying to talk me into seeing a band in Richmond on Saturday night, after the 10K.

Something tells me after the week I've had and the early morning jog in frigid temperatures, I'll be ready for nothing more than a very long nap Saturday evening. And staring out my window onto Queens Creek from the comfort, warmth and quiet of my warm living room.

But we'll see.

I hope your weekend is fantastic.

Ridgefield

This wonderful building is on Ridgefield Road, near Wayland Baptist Church, which is where I park my car when I go on my six-mile run.

(I haven't gone six miles in a couple weeks now; my excuse is there's been no time.  But I hope to reacquaint myself with this particular six-mile route  this week! soon.)

I've posted seventy eleven thousand many photos of this structure over the years and never cease to be entertained by and attracted to it.  Alas, I know none of its history, none of its stories, none of its connections.

All I can tell you is it sits patiently on the side of a very quiet road down which I love to run. It doesn't require attention.  It doesn't insist on acknowledgement. It just is.

OBX Half Marathon 2014

Over the weekend, Baby Sis and I made our annual trek to the Outer Banks to run a half marathon, and except for the fact that an 80-year-old woman beat us, we were pleased with our time of 2 hours and 15 minutes, our best thus far.

In fact, we were absolutely thrilled with our time-- until we learned that  the 80-year-old woman beat us by almost TEN minutes.  So, to recap, that is a woman, 80 years old, running 13.1 miles in 2 hours and 6 minutes.  Baby Sis is 44, and I will be 50 (!) next January.  She's over 30 years older than we are!

We were fit to be tied when we learned this.  Baby Sis went so far as to accuse her of stealing a golf cart to make such good time.  I'm pretty sure a race official would have noticed an 80-year-old on a golf cart, but Baby Sis won't let go of her theory.

To help ease the sting of this astonishing news, we indulged in some free beer.

I'd like to take a moment to recognize that, although I'm not a beer drinker, there is almost nothing better than a cold, free beer or three after exercising for over two hours without stopping.  It's a little slice of heaven, I tell you.

I think it was about 9:30 in the morning here.  Sunday morning, in fact.
While some folks were hunkered down in church, we were having our own worship service of sorts.

In addition to the free beer, there was my other favorite thing:  free food!  And live music.

And lots and lots of people watching.

This bear was everywhere. Just sort of there.
Not doing anything.  Just lurking. It was only slightly creepy. 

Baby Sis and I always seem to attract people who like to laugh and be silly.  The guy below came trotting over because he liked the fact that we were laughing loudly.  Still giddy from the endorphins and free beer at 9:30 on a Sunday morning in downtown Manteo, I had no problem telling him that the actual reason we were laughing was because he looked like a clown.  Although you can't tell from this picture, he had slathered on far too much free sunscreen they gave away at the expo, and there wasn't a hint of sun in the sky.

Note to Self: Where, exactly, is my upper lip?  I thought I had one.
Instead, I look like Frank Burns on MASH,
and I have the nerve to call someone else a clown?

We met some amazing people at the post-race party.  The two gentlemen below ran the full marathon with incredible times.

(The bear didn't run at all.  He just sat. And stared.)

Doug, below, won an award in his age bracket.  He completed the full 26.2 miles in just over 3 hours. He's run the Boston Marathon many times and also happens to be one hilarious human being.  He came all the way from Nashville just to run this race.

After a while, it started to turn cold, 

and our muscles and feet were telling us it was time to leave.

So we hopped on the shuttle where Baby Sis proceeded to spill her beer and headed back to the hotel.

We ate a lovely dinner at the Black Pelican 

and continued the wine laughter well into the evening.

A fantastic time was had by all.

For those of you wondering if we saw Kilt Man (from last year's adventure), we did. He was a pacer for the full marathon, and we chatted at the finish line.  Baby Sis controlled any urges to lift up the kilt. All in all, we were a little tamer better behaved this year, but that still didn't preclude us from having fun.

One of the things we learned from talking with so many runners--all of whom had better times than we did--was we need to do more races.  We've been running two half-marathons per year, thinking that was enough.  

If we want to beat that 80-year-old--and we do--we need to do more.

I turn 50 (!) next January, and I'd like to try a full marathon, perhaps next year this time at the Outer Banks.  To do that, I'm going to need to do at least two or three half marathons before that.

That's a whole lot of running.  

Right now, though, what I need most of all is a nap.

The End.

Fall

This weekend's weather could not have been more perfect.

The skies were sunny and the humidity was low.

Fall is definitely here.

The signs are everywhere.  

The soybean fields have turned from lush green to yellowish brown. 

Sunday around noon I parked the car at Aaron's Beach and jogged four and a half miles along the road and fields pictured above.  The weather was crisp, clear and beautiful; the local nuisances of horseflies, mayflies, fiddler crabs and gnats were nowhere to be found.

Unbeknownst to me, however, the praying mantises and winged monkeys grasshoppers are in full swing these days.  They blended in very well with the pavement I was pounding (and also the soybean fields I was staring at).  The grasshoppers wait until you're just about to step on them and then leap/fly up, up and away.  There were so many of them leaping/flying forth unexpectedly that at one point I started to wonder if I ought not run with my mouth closed and breathe through my nose.

Because, as it was, if even one over-sized, blending-in-to-the-road grasshopper decided at just the right time and at just the right trajectory to fly forth as I was passing by gasping for breath on my otherwise blissful run, chances were pretty good I'd choke to death on that gigantic, winged grasshopper.

I thought long and hard about the obituary and the stories that might be told to anyone inquiring about my death.  "She was running.  It wasn't her heart.  No, it wasn't that cardiac event she often worried about while practicing for that half marathon.  No, it was a grasshopper.  She choked to death on a winged-grasshopper that flew into her mouth while she was running.  They found her in the middle of Aaron's Beach Road."

Then I thought, well, as long as I'm going to die--and odds are pretty good I'm going to at some point--it might as well be a grasshopper, because at least that would be a  humorous way to go.  No?

These thoughts on changing seasons and mortality are brought to you by the number 50, which looms over my head and is about as welcome as a winged grasshopper ready to jump down my throat.

Happy Monday.

Three Things

Mathews High School Varsity Girls Basketball Team
Daughter Maria, front row, first on left

Welcome to Thursday, the day of the week dedicated to the sharing of three thoughts, which can be random, related, or not even fully formed sentences.  And three is only a suggestion.  Three goes with Thursday better than two which sounds better with Tuesday or one that belongs with Wednesday.  But there is no rule saying you couldn't share thirty things on Thursday if you were so inclined.  I'm clearly losing my mind, is it Spring yet? flexible that way.

I'll go first with my three paragraphs things.

1.  These are pictures of my daughter's basketball team.  They won against Middlesex the other night and played the best I've seen them play all year.  Our last home game is tonight against King William.  The seniors, pictured below, will be honored.

2.  Now that all the snow has melted, unfortunately I am able to see all the junk that is in my yard. That junk is not limited to the overabundance of tree limbs, pine cones and pine needles so common this time of year.  Nope, I am talking about two basketball goals lying topsy turvy in my driveway; a boogie board (which was used as a sled after the real sled broke) in the middle of my sidewalk; two large chunks of red plastic representing what used to be a sled  before out-of-school teenagers got to it (see above); a leaf blower on my porch (hey, it worked on that last batch of snow and is way easier than shoveling steps and porches); the hose stretching from the garage to the creek (for reasons I'll never understand, but teenagers are involved); and, well, just lots of junk.  The next warm day I really need to get out there and pick some of this stuff up.

3.  Airfare has been booked and registration submitted for Baby Sis and I to run the St. Jude's Half Marathon in Nashville April 26th.  The worst part will be the 13.1-mile jog through the city, but the best part will be seeing our friend Lauren.  Click here and here for a glimpse at last year's adventure.  (Anything involving Baby Sis begins and ends as an adventure.)


That's it for me.  Now it's your turn to share three things, which can be three sentences or three paragraphs. Or thirteen or thirty three.  Whatever floats your boat.  Anything at all.

Seniors:  Hannah R., Whitney E., Emily B. and Shanice W.

Marsh

Here are pictures from the time of year known as Hibernation,

where all I want to do is nothing but sleep. 

Directly on the heels of cold and snow,

for whatever reason, it was sixty degrees yesterday.

(Sixty degrees in February.)

I took advantage of the blip on the temperature gauge to run a few miles.

And for just a moment, I forgot about the urge to hibernate.

Three Things

Here we are once again staring at the day called Thursday, where on this blog we are encouraged to share three thoughts--three random or related or semi-related things.  Whatever happens to be on your mind, anything at all.

Because there's no other way around it, I will go first.

1.  Tonight the Mathews girls basketball team takes on Middlesex in a home match THAT WE HAVE THE ABILITY TO WIN.  Sorry for the shouting, it's just that my daughter's basketball is about the only thing I feel passionate about these days.

2.  I ran 8.6 miles yesterday, from Wayland Baptist Church to Salem United Methodist Church and back.  Since I hadn't measured the distance in advance, I just told myself to run from one church to the other (and back) in the hopes that it would be at least six miles, which was my goal.  When I clocked it with my car's odometer, I was shocked to learn I'd gone so far.  Mind you, I have a smart phone that could have done this mapping for me.  But thus far that smart phone's owner has not acquired the additional smartness required to use it to its full capability.

3.  Thank goodness for Monday's Martin Luther King federal holiday.  2014 and the month of January have already worn me right down out, and I am looking forward to taking down my Christmas tree maybe a day off.

That's it from me.  If you have one, two, three or more thoughts to share, please do. And thank you for doing so.

p.s. If you're local and are looking for something to do tonight, please come to the girls' basketball games at 6:00 (JV) and 7:30 (varsity) at the high school and cheer them on. I need help in the stands; it's not easy being an overly enthusiastic spectator.

Three Things

Aarons Beach

It's Thursday?  Again?  It feels like Tuesday. Maybe Wednesday. But if in fact it's Thursday, that means it's time to share three things. Three thoughts.  Three Whatever Is On Your Minds.  Keep in mind that three is merely a suggestion. Nobody will be scolded for bending the rules and sharing one, two or even twelve thoughts.

Let's begin.

1.  Today is Daughter's very last cross country practice of the season before the teams depart Friday morning for the state meet at Great Meadow on Saturday.  They've been practicing since August, so it's a bit bittersweet to see the season come to an end. Although back in August she was rather noncommittal about cross country, it is clear based on our discussion last night that she is sorry to see the season come to a close. I am too.

2.  The weather here the past two days has been way too cold. Could someone please just declare Hibernation Season until March?  All I want to do is sleep. Thank you.

3.  In spite of the above, I'm still psyched up from last weekend's half marathon.  So much so that I am contemplating adding another one to my repertoire before my next one in April, perhaps the Shamrock in Virginia Beach.  We'll see.

Now it's your turn to share three (or more) things.  Whatever is on your mind.  Anything at all.

OBX Half Marathon 2013

Note: We interrupt this blog which claims to be about Mathews County to bring you news of a Mathews County family's adventures in the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

Warning: When two sisters from Mathews get away from home on their own, with no responsibilities and lots of marathon-induced endorphins coursing through their veins, anything can happen including, well, let's just say you've been warned. Things will return to normal (whatever that is) here on this blog in a day or so. Thank you for your patience.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time, two sisters who don't get out much traveled to the Outer Banks of North Carolina for a half-marathon, even though neither had really trained for a 13.1-mile race.

Off season in the Outer Banks can be just wonderful.

No crowds. And oceanfront hotels are very reasonably priced.

These half-marathons are really not so much about the race. It's all about the getting away. Sort of like one of those inexpensive vacations where "all you have to do" is sit through a 30-minute timeshare presentation.

Except instead of 30 minutes it's about 2.5 hours, and instead of contemplating the purchase of a timeshare we're contemplating our mortality the finish line of a 13.1-mile jogathon that is anything but fun.

In fact, it's torture.

But again it's not about that short period of torture akin to a root canal  prolonged timeshare sales pitch.

It's all about the getting away from home.

And the laughter.

And the food.

And more...much more.

Baby Sis post-race at the Manteo waterfront. Yes, she wore a scarf the entire 13.1 miles, only because she forgot to take it off at the starting line.  Most of the time it was around her waist. There was a point somewhere around Mile 5 or 6 where I contemplated using it to strangle a very loud man behind me.  Thankfully for all parties involved, he stopped talking politics I restrained myself.

Baby Sis and I finished the half-marathon without walking, which was our goal. A year ago when we ran this particular race, we finished in about two and a half hours. In April we ran one in Nashville--in cold, pouring down rain complete with thunder and lightning on a very hilly course--in about two hours and thirty seven minutes.

We had very low expectations for this race, particularly since we didn't feel prepared and both of us complained about various important body parts that were bound to give out--like hearts, legs, lungs, brains, backs, knees, etc.

In spite of our doubts, we not only achieved our goal of finishing without walking, but we had our best time ever: two hours and twenty two minutes!  It was crazy.

However, the race was not entirely uneventful.

After crossing the finish line, which we had sort of sprinted towards, Baby Sis stopped and held up one finger (not that one, just the regular pointing finger) indicating she needed to pause for a minute. She said she couldn't breathe--or rather she could breathe out but not in. The Very Nice Race Helper directed another Very Nice Race Helper to get a wheelchair, into which Baby Sis plopped.

Still recovering from 13.1 miles of WHAT DID WE JUST DO myself, I could barely grasp what was going on but had wits enough to grab my free visor and coconut water before dashing after the wheelchair-pushing paramedic to make sure I didn't lose Baby Sis in the throngs of giddy beer guzzlers race finishers.

By the way, when you've just completed 13.1 miles without stopping and then you stop moving, it's not easy to begin sprinting after your wheelchair-bound sister being pushed by a Very Fresh As In Hasn't Run a Half-Marathon Paramedic.  It just wasn't what I was prepared for.

It wasn't what Baby Sis was prepared for either.

Once we arrived at the medics' tent, she became slightly belligerent a little annoyed at the attention she was receiving, particularly since she knew we weren't far from the beer garden felt so much better after having sat down for a moment. However, she politely explained to the Super Kind Medical People that it was either an anxiety attack, a slight case of exercise-induced asthma, or Hey, my knee almost gave out about half a mile ago and my toes don't exist anymore, so I just needed to sit down.

Or all of that.

In any case, no sooner had the very nice race helpers started to ask in-depth questions than Baby Sis jumped up like a Jack-in-the Box and asked where the beer garden was.

Once we found food and the beer garden, we were as good as new!

Hey, hey, hey!

The people-watching in Manteo after this race can't be beat.

We met many interesting and inspiring people, including one man in his 60s who has run a full marathon (that's 26.2 miles) in all 50 states. His favorite was the Boston Marathon; he says the sheer number of people cheering you on makes you run when you want to walk. The toughest? Pikes Peak. The most beautiful? Hawaii. This man is also a cancer survivor. I asked him if anyone in his family ran with him. "Nope. Too lazy."

Our new friend Brad, also in his 60s, started in our corral and burped very loudly around Mile 4, much to our delight. Baby Sis and I have a very immature sense of humor which will never mature, evidently. Anyway, Brad has done Ironmans, he has done crazy Caribbean swimming with sharks, he's done all sorts of amazing races. And he's not ready to stop.

But back to the people-watching.

This is CBW and Random Stranger Wearing a Kilt

This Random Stranger Also Wearing a Kilt had just completed the full marathon.

Baby Sis could not get over the fact he ran 26.2 miles in a kilt.

Baby Sis also refused to call it a kilt. To her it is a skirt.

For purposes of maintaining the peace, we'll call it a skilt.

Baby Sis and Marathon Man chatted at length.

Their conversation was very lively, and Baby Sister was very animated.

By the way, although you can't necessarily tell it here, there were HUNDREDS of people around us.

Baby Sister, high on two and a half hours of exercise, endorphins, a few free beers from the beer garden and life, started to sprout one of her infamous wild hairs.

By the time the picture below was snapped, those wild hairs were out of control.

She glances and restrains herself--probably because I begged her to.

She can't resist the urge. However at this point she was just pretending for the picture.

Dear Readers:
This may be the first photograph I've ever edited. You're welcome.
p.s. Baby Sis begged me to put the unadulterated version of this photo up, but I just could not.
She plans to use the original version as her Facebook cover photo.
Maybe the oxygen loss at the finish line is to blame, who knows. We may never really know.
Either way, please look at that grin on her face.

After the skirt kilt curiosity was dealt with, we were all best amigos.

My feet hurt so badly, even these flip flops were too much. 
They appeared to meld into the pavement just like my feet did around Mile 7.

Baby Sis's feet, post-race, post-wheelchair and post-skilt incident.

A good time was had by all. 

As long as I can draw a breath, I want to do this particular race with Baby Sis.

Hopefully next year we can convince Middle Sis and other family members to join us.

In spite of the 13.1 miles of quasi-torture, which also provides motivation to move and exercise in the months weeks leading up to the race, it really is a great time.

If anyone reading does not exercise but wants to, just start off small. Walk for a few minutes a day and build up from there. If you walk but don't think you can jog, walk longer distances and just jog a few steps when you can. If you jog but think you can't for long distances, all I can tell you is I never ran more than three miles in my life until a few years ago. I told myself I couldn't or thought that you had to be special to do long distances.

You don't have to be special but you have to change your thinking.

Completing anything is 99% mental and a small fraction physical.

If you say no before you try, there is no chance you ever will.

If you say maybe or yes and open your mind up to the possibility, you're way ahead of the game.

I am not ready yet to say I really want to do a full marathon of 26.2 miles, but I am slowly opening up to the possibility that I can.

Slowly.

If Baby Sis and skilt-wearing men are involved, I'm definitely in.


The End.