For some reason neither of us can understand, we have somehow in our wide-ranging rambling explorations of this part of the country never actually been to Lake Junaluska, though we have often driven by it. It is a beautiful little jewel of a lake, and the race we ran this morning was one of the nicest we have completed in awhile - perfect weather conditions, a beautiful course circling the shores of the still waters of the lake, relatively good footing despite some sidewalks and bridges - a good venue for a race. The buildings around the lake, including two inns, several bed-and-breakfast places, and many smaller homes, are all part of the Methodist Church's Lake Junaluska Conference and Retreat Center.
We stayed at the Lambuth Inn, constructed in 1921 on the ruins of an earlier Inn that had burned, and it is a charming old building which is listed on the National Register. Last weekend, we had spent a night at the Echo Mountain Inn in Hendersonville and then two nights at the Inn on Biltmore Estate in order to see the Van Gogh Alive exhibit and take a candlelight tour of the Biltmore House. It had been absolutely wonderful, but the Inn was an exceedingly posh place, with valet parking, dozens of Christmas trees, carolers, and very nice facilities everywhere.
But checking in to the Lambuth Inn, we were not at all disappointed with the absence of a squad of valets at the front door and an afternoon glass of champagne thrust into your hands.
The lobby and parlors downstairs are filled with antique furniture and comfortable chairs, fireplaces, and nearly as many Christmas trees as the Inn on the Biltmore Estate.
While the elevators at Biltmore had whisked us to the sixth floor more rapidly than we thought possible, the rickety elevator in this Inn paused for a long, long time pondering over the matter before deciding to close the doors and rise slowly and majestically to the third floor. But we liked it very much, and the room was clean and comfortable with everything a traveler, or a runner preparing for a 5:00 wake-up and a race start a mile away, could expect. Martha's grandfather, a Methodist minister who had served in various churches in Western North Carolina, had very likely stayed in this place, and I wondered if he might have even been in the same room. And the view was gorgeous out over the lake.
It is not often that everything goes this smoothly in traveling to a race. We found a small, family-owned Italian restaurant in a shopping center only a mile or so away, where we apologetically ate the usual spartan dinner of plain spaghetti with marinara sauce and drank water instead of wine. “We’ll have to come back here another time when we can enjoy the lasagna and a bottle of Chianti,” I told our friendly waitress. We returned to a quiet room, but without any chairs, so Martha went down to the deserted lobby and read a book while I stretched out in the room and consumed several magazines.
The race start was only a short drive away and we were able to park close by. It was a little cold, 35 degrees, but the sun was shining and we warmed up quickly. We had expected some treacherous stretches of sidewalk and narrow paths, but the course began and ended on wide roads so that we 300 runners had plenty of time to sort ourselves out. And what a beautiful course it was! We came onto a paved walking trail and then crossed a long pedestrian bridge, the first of two, with the still waters of Lake Junaluska on both sides.
There are always some obstacles in a race – tree roots buckling the pavement, dogs, and strollers – but they were at a minimum this morning. One energetic 10-year-old kept flying past me, then coming to a stop in the middle of the path as I maneuvered past him. In a little while I could hear him holler, “Arrggh!” and hear his thundering footsteps coming up fast again and sprinting past me. But then I passed him for good, and I hope the little fellow finished the race and learned a lesson about pacing.
Martha was waiting at the finish and was very happy with her
time of 32:08, her fastest, I think, since we started back running races in
September. With ten-year age groups and
a surprising 15 women in her age group, she was happy to take third place. There were only four men in my age group and I
took first place.
We had been wondering what kind of award would be provided since we had not spotted any on the table where ceremonies were being conducted. It turned out that we received a small dowel of wood, described by the Race Director as a “rolling pin,” but, alas, woefully too small for such a use, And possibly the most unusual age group award we have ever received. "That's why they didn't have them out on display," Martha said. "They would have rolled off the table."
But who can complain? Not I. This race was especially sweet for me - my 200th, according to my Race Journal. So we gave thanks on this Thanksgiving Day for our good health, our fitness and strength, and our shared love for each other and the joy that we derive from competing in races together. And then we returned to our Inn, showered and changed, and headed for dinner at the Terrace Hotel after visiting a place called Inspiration Point just outside the Inn overlooking a large cross, illuminated at night, and stopping to admire an impressive stone chapel. Dinner, with appetites honed by a Turkey Trot, is always a glorious thing to enjoy on Thanksgiving Day!
