The Rambling Long Run

This week, I started back with an easy run on Monday - a little over four miles - and then followed up with a six-miler on Tuesday.  Bob ran part of the Tuesday run with me and it seemed that I was going a little slower than usual, which is a feeling I often get when I run with Bob.  On Wednesday, I went to the gym and worked out fairly hard, including some plyometric jump squats.  And toward the end of my six-mile run on Thursday, down Sassafras Gap Road, I began to feel some discomfort in my legs.  Too many miles?  But all of them were slow, which I know is how to come back from a layoff, to get back in good condition, or to begin an ambitious training program.

Today came the payoff with a long, rambling, Saturday morning run, the first half with friends and the second half all by myself, as I found the cool shadows along Mirror Lake and the Cullasaja River, down in the lovely shade fragrant with flowers and that musky river smell.  I had intended to go 8 or 10 miles so I was pleased that my watch said 9.22 (a little more than Map My Run, with which I created this map).  But I was even more pleased to be rambling again, which I dearly love to do on Saturdays - just going wherever I like, up hills or down, feasting my eyes on everything along the way.  And I felt pretty strong climbing those long hills, too!  At last, I am back to running the (relatively) long miles that I love.

Running Again

This morning, after taking a ten-day layoff prescribed by my doctor, I began running again.  And what a glorious day it was in Highlands! - Memorial Day weekend, and people everywhere.  I started up Chestnut Street and decided it might be more prudent to run an easy three or four miles, but I paused at the base of Big Bearpen Road and suddenly realized that that was where I wanted run, here on my first run - my sixth day in a row to climb this awesome mountain that has been my friend this past week.

There are four glorious views at the top, and this is the first, to the west:

Then, running counter-clockwise (as on a track), there are the views to the south-west and the south-east, and finally the view looking out to the east on Whiteside Mountain and Highlands Falls.

It felt good to be running again, and I don't think I have lost much fitness, although the six mile run made me feel later in the day as if I had run eight or ten miles.  So walking hard, uphill, is a good way to stay in relatively good condition.

When I descended back into Town, I saw crowds of people on Chestnut Street, walking with cameras and taking photographs of the gorgeous rhododendron at the height of their bloom (which I would have photographed myself except I don't carry my phone while I run).  As church bells rang downtown (it was Sunday morning) I could hear the bagpipes playing, no doubt Dave Landis calling the Presbyterians to worship on Memorial Day weekend.  I thought to myself that those people on Chestnut Street were worshiping, too, as if they were taking photos of famous stained-glass windows in some European cathedral of great antiquity.  Praise God!

As I was adding a little to my last mile, running to the end of Fifth Street past Hickory Street and back, I passed a young woman with binoculars watching birds high in the trees.  "I'm sorry," I said, "I'm probably scaring away the birds.  I'll tiptoe away as quickly as I can!"

"That's OK," she replied.  "They don't take much notice of us down here anyway."

The View from the Top

Will I ever tire of climbing mountains?  Specifically, Big Bearpen?  This is the fourth day in a row I have climbed this 4250-foot peak.  I am looking forward immensely to running up this mountain on Sunday, the first day that Dr. Secosan will permit me to run.  Today, a runner passed me, on the way to the top, and I was sorely tempted to give chase!

Every day I see new things I had not noticed before.  But perhaps that comes from living here in this beautiful part of the country, where the trees and the sky and the weather change every moment.  Today there was a peculiar light on everything, there was a kind of amber haze, and the high clouds looked like they were announcing a change in weather. 

And today I noticed particularly all the gates along the way - beginning with one of my favorites:

Now that's an old-school gate, from 20 or 30 years ago, the same age as the simple, unadorned one-story house that stands behind it.  With a million-dollar view, you don't need a three-story monstrosity with Doric columns (oh yes, there is one of those on the very top) - all you needed back in the day was a simply structure, lots of windows, perhaps a screened-in porch - and this gate announcing simplicity.  A mountain cabin.

Here is a more utilitarian fellow on the very top, the house it protects barely visible behind thick rhododendron, but no doubt a simple masterpiece as well:

I do not admire the house attached to this gate - it would look more at home in Buckhead than here in Highlands - but this whimsical gate almost makes up for that:

No bears today, either - except for this little fellow:

When I see a live bear, I won't have my camera.

Big Bearpen Again

If I enjoyed my walk around Town yesterday, I enjoyed even more climbing my old friend Big Bearpen this afternoon.  A good, strong pace will raise my heart-rate on the uphill climb to almost what it would be on a slow run, and it was nice to feel a little bit of effort in my legs.  I certainly wouldn't have noticed this beautiful iris had I been running:

The view is so glorious on top that it is always worth the climb, even on a hazy day.  Off to the south, you can see the lakes of South Carolina on a clear day:

And to the east, there is this remarkable view of Whiteside Mountain, its smooth rock race exposed from this unique angle:

I do ordinarily stop at these two view, even when I'm running, but today I had time to take a photo with my phone.  Beautiful green May afternoon, high puffy afternoon clouds, and a cool breeze - I was a supremely happy man!

And I did not see any bears, either.  Just this little critter on a mailbox along the way:

The report was good today from Dr. Secosan, but still no running until next weekend.  Meanwhile, I am enjoying walking up these mountains, seeing them in a bit more detail than I usually do.

Walking Again

So I find myself walking every day, wishing I could be running, but trying not to lose any fitness in the meantime.  The visual acuity in my right eye is gradually returning.  At first it was like this:

But day by day it clears more and more, and my left eye is already nearly 20/20.  So what a beautiful, clear world it is as I walk and walk and walk around Highlands!

I realize, as I did back in February and was also relegated to walking, that there is an entirely different perspective for a walker to discover.  The world does not whiz by (although that may be an exaggeration at my pace these days) so much as it approaches in stately procession.  These beautiful rhododendron, right on our regular running route on Smallwood Avenue near Harris Lake, are just arresting in their beauty:

And I was able to get off of Horse Cove Road, where I am accustomed to running right down the middle, and walk on this quiet, shady pathway instead. ducking my head often to pass under low-handing branches.

Who would even know that this pathway exists?  Perhaps a runner should deliberately take at least one day a week and simply walk where he normally runs, looking at the world in a more intentional and mindful way, appreciating its beauty at a slower and more close-up perspective.

And are there any city runners out there, stumbling upon this blog, green with envy?  Yes, I am thankful that I live here in Highlands, and don't have to pound the sidewalks alongside busy streets. 

More Bitter Medicine

Close followers of this blog (which I number in the low single digits) may remember my post on February 25, four days after cataract surgery, in which I bemoaned Doctor's orders that I could not run for many days; the layoff turned out to be ten days, but I managed to walk nearly every day and went to the gym frequently, so that I did not lost much fitness.  In fact, it might have been a good thing for this aging body to rest from the strain on joints and ligaments for a few days.

That's how I will look at it, anyway, following cataract surgery this morning on my right eye - oculus dexter.   Dr. Secosan pleaded with me not to use any Latin, but I really wanted to find out what O.D. and O.S. (oculus sinister) meant on those arcane-looking eyeglass prescription forms.  Surgery went well, and I only pray that this eye will recover as well as the left eye did - 20/25 vision and (more importantly for this glaucoma patient) pressure of 10 or 12.  There is a chance that the filter created by my 1997 trabeculectomy surgery, which has kept that pressure so enviously low with no medication whatsoever, could close up as the eye over-reaches in its effort to heal the small incision made for the cataract removal and lens implant.

There is a greater lesson in that - can we heal too much, I wonder? - but I'm not going to try to unravel it now.  Now I only want to do what the post op instructions instructed me to do:  "Spend your first day relaxing at home:  Watch TV, read, or talk to a friend."

Tomorrow I will start walking miles and miles and miles.

Mother's Day

Yesterday we had Martha's Mom and Dad down for a pre-Mother's Day luncheon - the two mothers posed on our deck as the first few sprinkles of rain appeared, forcing us to eat inside:

Today, Mother's Day proper, Martha and I took off in the Mini in a long ramble, beginning with a picnic lunch on the Davidson River, then past Looking Glass Falls to the Cradle of Forestry and a one- or two mile hike, up to Pisgah Inn, a drive down the Blue Ridge parkway, back down Highway 215 to Rosman, and finally ending up at Whitewater Falls. 

What a glorious day!  And my fit wife and I walked up that trail at Whitewater Falls and down all those steep steps, then back up again, barely out of breath.

It's nice to be in such good shape - from running and everything else we do - that we don't hesitate when we approach a new trailhead.  Because new trailheads lead to new adventures, and new sights like this lovely waterfall!

Home Again

The weather in Highlands, when we returned home, was ideal for running - bright, cloudless blue skies, temperatures in the 80s, and all the hostas twice as tall as when we left.  And the lawn - it is summer again when I wrestle once again with what I call "lawn" but is actually a wide variety of plant matter mixed with various types of grass.

Yesterday I went up to run after completing the usual post-vacation errands - paying bills, doing laundry - and caught up with Derek, Skip, and Morris.  It is nice to run with friends again!  And to be back in Highlands, rambling around in a lazy 6-mile run circling back around Lower Lake Road, where it is shady and green and cool.

Our beautiful Town!  Dressed, for May, in a thousand shades of green - absolutely  beautiful.

And in our bed at night, there is absolute silence here in our quiet little valley.  Except . . . what is that distant, rhythmic, faraway noise?  I sometimes think I can still hear the crash of the ocean at night . . .

Departure

This is our last morning here, and we had some surprises.  I was drinking my coffee on the deck when I noticed a fit young man running by wearing a camel-pack.  Then I saw him again - or was it another?  It turns out there were several of them, and then a woman or two.

I realized that an event was going on, and a brief search on my computer informed me that we were watching the OBX Ultramarathon, which began at the Corolla Lighthouse this morning at 5:00 a.m. and ends in Kitty Hawk - 50-K (31 miles), and exactly ten times farther than I raced last Saturday.  The sun is up now and it is a little warm, and these athletes have my complete admiration.  How humbling to see them out here, running in sand, for such a long distance, with only the occasional quizzical glances from oceanfront dwellers like ourselves, and no applause at all!

While we were still watching the runners, Martha spotted some porpoises out in the surf, leaping and glistening in the morning sunshine.  We both tried to take some photos, and I even tried a movie on my phone, but with no success.  I have never been able to photograph these magnificent creatures - they look like little dark spots on the camera.

But to us, they loomed large in the morning surf, a fitting end to our little vacation our here.

So now I will shut this blog down for a couple of days, pack up the computer, and head back up the road to Highlands.

The Big Sky

Last night we had these delicious crabcakes with hushpuppies and spinach at Martha's kitchen:

And while we were eating, we were treated to this spectacular display outside the window of pink cloud and ocean, just while the sun was setting - it had been cloudy and rainy most of the day, and suddenly the sky seemed to open up and everything was transformed with purples and deep pinks.

This morning, the sky looked like this at sunrise - you could tell the sun was rising, but it was back behind a veil of thick thunderclouds, which made a kind of crimson tapestry all along the horizon:

There is a ragged line of cloud out to sea over the nearby pier, and whitish sky beyond that:

The ocean is just immense here, of course - we listened to it all night, with the bedroom window open.  But the big, big sky is always changing and always new.  In our narrow little valley in the mountains, way back in Clear Creek, we sometimes forgot how big the sky can be.

Seafood

One of the delights of staying here is the fresh seafood.  It's plentiful, healthy, low-fat, low-carb, and loaded (I like to imagine) with good things like fish oil.  Last night, Martha prepared bay scallops (caught just a little way up the coast), lightly sauteeing them with spinach, with a serving of tomato pie, a specialty of Dockside 'N Duck.

Tonight we're going to have crab cakes, freshly made at Dockside 'N Duck.  With food this fresh and close at hand, and an excellent chef in Martha, we seldom go to any of the fine restaurants here.

Today's weather was like yesterday's - a little bit of sun teasing us out, and then showers off and on most of the afternoon.  (This does not interfere with the consumption of seafood, however, or the reading of British mysteries!).  It was the perfect afternoon to go up to Corolla to see (in between the rain showers) the Currituck Lighthouse and outbuildings, the little Island Village with its bookstore, and the Whalehead Club with its little arched bridge, a photograph of which hangs in our house.  Every year we end up going here and taking the same photos, but I never tire of this place.