everything you wanted... and then some

My final "training run" was last Wednesday: a simple two miles just to remind my legs of their job. What should have been cause for celebration was, instead, a disconcerting outing to say the least. My legs ached and my body was devoid of energy. For several days, June had been fighting what we thought was a strep infection. She actually had hand-foot-and-mouth disease, a fairly common childhood ailment. Turns out, June managed to pass a mild version of it on to me; my fever, aches, lack of energy, and sore throat were the result. Despite its gruesome name (it just sounds so horrible to me-- and it doesn't help that I automatically insert a "hoof" somewhere into its name, e.g., hand-hoof-and-mouth disease), we didn't need to cordon off our house E.T.-style to save humanity; the virus just needed to run its course. Luckily for me, I was back to near-full-strength by Saturday. Whew!

Friday went pretty much as planned. We packed up the car and left our house at noon. After a quick lunch at Elmo's Diner, we headed for the mountains. Just as we hoped, June slept for most of the car ride; much to my surprise, Adrienne only slept for half of it. We eventually arrived in Black Mountain and settled into our cabin around 4:30. For the next hour, June tested out the rocking chairs on the porch and jumped in and out of Adrienne's suitcase.

It was then time for dinner, so we headed towards downtown in search of some carbohydrates. After a 25 minute wait at the only pizza and pasta restaurant in town, we were seated and ready to eat. Unfortunately, they didn't have any milk, and June proceeded to stage a stirring protest. Adrienne quickly snapped June up and headed outside to wander the streets to find Junie's fix. An angel/genius of a waitress realized a nearby coffee shop might have some milk to save the day, and sure enough, it did. Just a few minutes later, Adrienne was headed back towards our table with a smiling Junebug in her arms. Nice save! Together we quickly devoured a pizza and then headed back to the cabin. Adrienne put June to bed while I went back out for some groceries and an eight o'clock pre-race orientation meeting. The meeting was uneventful, although hearing reports of great weather and very little ice on the summit were reassuring. Back at the cabin, I made my oatmeal for the morning, laid out my clothing for race-day, and tried to relax. I think the lights finally went out around 10:15.

I slept in hour and a half stretches until about 4:15 am. At that point, I couldn't resettle myself and could only think of one thing: shaving off my godforsaken beard. I frequently go eight or nine days without shaving, but by Saturday morning, it had been over a month. Ultra-running is not a hard man's sport; sporting a beard is. How on earth can anyone stand it? Itchy, hurty, nasty--no thanks. Armed with only a once-already-used-ten-cent-disposable razor and some hand soap, I made my way into the bathroom to remove the albatross from my face. Throughout the thirty minute ordeal, I kept waiting for the razor to finally give up the fight and leave me with a strange facial hairdo; amazingly, it fought hard to the end and left me with a cleanly shaven face. Sweet relief!

At about five, I had my standard gonna-be-exercising-for-a-ridiculously-long-time breakfast: oatmeal with a touch of brown sugar and two bottles of Ensure Plus (350 calories of chocolaty goodness in each eight ounce container). Breakfast lasted all of five minutes, so I spent the next hour reading. At a little after six, I put down my book and changed into my running gear. I then woke up Adrienne at 6:20- just enough time for her to brush her teeth and to treat her chronic bedhead that she described in a recent post. June woke-up on her own at 6:30; I gave her a diaper change, Adrienne gave her a sippy cup of milk, we put some shoes over her footie pajamas, and we all headed out the door for the starting line.

Notwithstanding a mountain lion attack or being blown off the side of a mountain, my biggest concern for the day was being properly dressed. I was relieved to see most of the other runners also went with shorts, rather than pants. One golden rule of endurance sports is "don't try anything new on race day." Knowing this to be very true, I wore my never-before-worn gaiters anyways. It was a low risk proposition; I knew I could easily remove them on the course and stuff them in my coat pocket if necessary. Ignoring the maxim paid off, my shoes would have been filled with rocks and leaves without them. For most of the race, I felt a bit overdressed in two shirts plus a shell, but up at the Blue Ridge Parkway and beyond, I was thankful for the extra layers. Whether it was result of the alphabetic superiority of our last name or the general consensus that I was the favorite to win the race I can't be sure, but I was given race number "1." I wore it proudly. Enough fashion talk, onto the race.

Some photos from the starting line:

The race started in downtown Black Mountain at 7am and proceeded to follow three paved, relatively flat miles into the town of Montreat. As the course wound through the small campus of Montreat College, I said goodbye to the flat portion of the race, not to be seen again until 34 miles later. After a very steep climb through the town, the race left the pavement and entered single-track trail. At this point my legs felt good, but not great. The single-track, and the rest of the course for that matter, was in great shape. There was a fair amount of run-off trickling down the sides of the mountain onto the trails, but the really muddy spots were mostly avoidable. With two miles of single-track running behind me, I arrived at the first aid station to cheers from the volunteers. They were clearly charged up to see the top-seeded/best-last-name entrant come through their station. "Go number one!" With no time for autographs, I sailed on through without stopping.

After the first aid station, the course changed from single-track into a slightly wider and much more rugged "road." The views off the side of the mountain were amazing, but given the challenging terrain, I spent most of my time staring at the next three or four feet of rocky trail ahead of me. I passed three or four hunting camps during this portion of the race, but unlike the Fat Ass 50 I ran in last month, no shots were heard and no guns or dead animals were in sight. Some of the folks at the camps gave a reluctant nod, but most kept their focus on splitting their firewood, cooking their meals, or whatever else it was they happened to be doing as I strolled on by.

About twelve miles into the race, the trail spit me out onto the Blue Ridge Parkway. I ran along its paved surface for about a mile and a half until I arrived at the third aid station, which also served as the turnaround point for the marathon course. At this point, I was two and half hours into my journey and still feeling good. I kept my time at the aid stations to a minimum; at most of the stops, I'd grab half a banana, a handful of trail mix, and some water to mix with the Cytomax powder I was carrying. With no cramps or stomach upset the entire day, my fueling protocol proved to be a resounding success.

Not far beyond the third aid station, I reentered a single-track trail that would eventually take me to the summit of Mt. Mitchell. This portion of the trail was very runnable and before I knew it, I had arrived at the fourth aid station, just two and a half miles from the summit. Here, the weather, the terrain, and my rate of progress towards the summit all changed. The sky darkened and the temperature fell precipitously towards the top; as I mentioned earlier, now I was grateful for my extra layers.

About a mile and a half from the top, the steepness of the trail increased considerably. The steepness combined with several short stretches of ice and excessively rugged terrain made this section unrunnable for me. I'm sure some of the more experienced trail runners were able to comfortably navigate this portion of the course, but for me, it was simply a slow climb to the top. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally saw some daylight at the top of the trail. I had reached the summit in just over four hours. The view from the top stretched about fifteen feet-- it was completely fogged in. The brutal winds combined with the thirty-some degree air temperature must have put the windchill in the twenties, if not the teens. Given the lovely conditions, I didn't hang around long before making my exit. I grabbed some trail mix at the summit aid station and headed down an even steeper trail than the one I came up on.

About a mile and a half later, I finally found myself on runnable terrain. Evidently, I had not looked very closely at the profile of the course because the two-plus mile uphill I now found myself on was a total surprise; I thought the race would be all downhill after the summit. In all honesty, I didn't mind the climb; it allowed me to gain ground on a few runners that had passed me on the technical ascent and descent of the summit.

Part of my preparation for this race was shedding a few pounds. If you know me at all, you know I can eat like crazy. So to lose weight over the last three months, instead of having four helpings at each meal, I only had three. It's hard to call that a diet. In the past few years, my weight held steady just north of 180 pounds. On race day, I tipped the scales at 170 even. For those keeping score at home, that's 62 pounds less than my most bloated football playing weight. The last time I weighed so little was my sophomore year in high school. I sincerely hope I don't look as fragile as a I did back then. When I'd get hit on the football field, most people, my mom most especially, held their breath in fear I had been broken in two. Enough talk about weight, back to the race.

The two mile uphill eventually took me past the Mt. Mitchell State Park Visitor's Center. From this point on, the race was almost completely downhill. The run down the paved road out of the state park was painful on the quads, but easy on the eyes. To my left was an expansive view of the surrounding mountain range and to my immediate right clouds were being pushed violently over the crest and somersaulting down the side of the mountain.

I soon found myself back at the marathon turnaround aid station. It was here that I realized I would be finishing far earlier than I had told Adrienne. One of the race web pages incorrectly said the winning runners would likely start finishing around 2 pm and I didn't think to verify this. Before reading this, I thought I would finish in seven and a half to eight hours. After reading it, I thought I would be lucky to finish in nine. Anyways, I started getting worried that Adrienne and June would miss me at the finish. Much to my dismay, my cell phone wouldn't turn on. Every few miles from the Blue Ridge Parkway back to Montreat, I tried turning it back on. "Verizon" would pop up on the screen and then go black. Wretched gadget!

From the Blue Ridge Parkway, the course followed the same trail back down. It was much rockier than I remembered, but I somehow avoided falling the entire race. I did, however, kick the hell out of my right big toe near the end. Closer to Montreat, the trail took a slightly different path back into town. The single-track trail ended and took a brutally steep descent through a neighborhood behind the college. After 15 miles of downhill, it was the last thing my quadriceps needed. Nevertheless, my legs stayed attached and I continued my march towards the finish.

The finish was at Lake Tomahawk Park in Black Mountain. I was half way around the small lake when I saw Adrienne and June waving and waiting for me at the finish line. I was so happy, relieved, and thankful they were there. I knew it had taken a lot of flexibility on both their parts to be waiting for me at the finish line, but I appreciated even more their flexibility in allowing me to train for this event. While they waited for me to finish, June apparently played the part of the mayor: checked things out and visited with her constituents.

When I finally crossed the finish line, June lunged at my legs. She was adorable. Adrienne gave me a kiss and we headed to the picnic shelter to grab some goodies.

June watched closely as I ordered up a cup of chicken noodle soup. I waddled around for a little while, picked up my finisher's fleece jacket, and slowly regained my wits. The race had been terrific, and except for a blister on my big toe, I had made it through relatively unscathed. Taking a group photograph of our feet at memorable locations is a family tradition of ours; here's the photo from the finish:

For those that care, my heart rate and altitude data from the day and a rough map of the course:

There was no time to rest. We made our way back to the cabin for a shower and quickly went right back out the door. I spied a beautiful playground while running through Montreat so we headed there. June had a blast, and the playground and weather were so nice none of us were in a hurry to leave. As you can see, June is becoming a well-traveled playground connoisseur.

After an hour at the park, we finally loaded ourselves back into the car. We took a short tour of Montreat and then went to the post-race dinner. We were all pretty frazzled by this point in the day. We didn't stay long and soon we found ourselves back at the cabin. June had a bath and went to bed. Adrienne and I talked and had some wine before we both, exhausted, drifted off to sleep.

On Sunday, we had breakfast, packed up our stuff, and drove twenty minutes to Asheville. We were hoping to find a camping store to get recommendations for an upcoming trip, but the stores we found were closed. A quick stop at a coffee shop gave June her first taste of hot chocolate; she didn't seem too impressed. It also gave her a chance to run around before we made the turn for home. She slept most of the way; Adrienne and I stayed awake. Finally back in Durham, our house was a welcome sight for all of us. It had been a long race of a weekend.





If you just made it all the way to the end of this marathon length post, you deserve your own finisher's medal.

I can walk!

It will take me a day or two or three to post a complete account, but I'm happy to report that the race was a terrific success. Forty miles and 4880 feet of climbing and descending behind me, I finished in 7 hours 19 minutes and 25 seconds. The three of us had a great weekend in the western North Carolina mountains; in fact, I think we're ready to move there. More photos to come, but here's a picture of me just after finishing and one with June shortly thereafter.

Lloyd's Big Day

Just wanted to let you know that tomorrow is the day Lloyd has been training for--the Mt. Mitchell Challenge: 20 miles up the mountain, then 20 miles back down. Please send some positive thoughts his way tomorrow at 7 a.m. as the starting gun sounds!

June and I will be there at the start and at the finish line, but it doesn't sound like we'll be able to see him anywhere on the course because it's just too remote. We'll get as many pictures as we can (Lloyd is planning on carrying his cell phone so he can snap a few of the course and maybe of himself and the other runners) and he has promised to post a thorough race report upon our return (and if you've been reading a while, you've probably noticed that thoroughness is one of Lloyd's strong suits). It should be a great story! June and I are very proud of him for his disciplined training and plain old guts and grit. I think we'll all be glad when it's over! And we'll anxiously await Lloyd's announcement of his next endurance endeavor. Stay tuned!

Messy hair, etc.

Here's something that happened recently: June was crying in the middle of the night. I can't articulate how I know whether I need to go in there or not; it's something I make a judgment call about on every occasion. Often she just settles herself back to sleep by the time I'd be there with my hand on the knob . But this night she sounded like she might really need me, so out of bed I dragged myself.

(A sidenote: ever since I cut my hair, it's a perennial surprise to see what configuration it will take when I get out of bed. Often, it ends up looking like there was a strong breeze all night across the top of head, from one side to the other, with a simultaneous updraft on the other side, so a peak forms just about above my ear. Sometimes it just comes out totally 80's. This never seems to register with June. Sometimes Lloyd gets a little chuckle out of it, but never more than that, for which I'm thankful. I'm not someone who just jumps out of bed in such a mood for everyone to have a hearty belly laugh at my expense.)

On this night I did a quick scan of the situation: no fever, no injury, no stuffed animal entanglement, etc. June stood there at the end of the crib that faces the door and held her arms out to me. "June" I said, "it's night-night time, time to go back to sleep", and she whimpered a little more and stretched out her arms. "Honey, I'm here, everything is okay, lie back down and go back to sleep. It's time to sleep", I said. And so she sat herself back down, gathered her 20 or so stuffed animals she sleeps with, and laid back down. And went to sleep right then and there while I rubbed her little back.

I'm still amazed by the power of that situation when I think about it. On the one hand, I'm so proud of her when she's able to settle herself back down to sleep like that. On the other hand, I can't quite figure out how I ended up on this side of that interaction. It doesn't seem like very long ago I still needed my mom for that reassurance and affirmation, that everything is okay and go ahead and do whatever it is I need to do. In fact, I'm kidding myself if I don't think I still do that all the time. And always it seemed like my mom had that kind of clout in the universe.

So, in this way I think I stumbled on one or even two truths of parenting: that you understand your parents in a way you never could have before once you have your own child, and that being the ones called mom and dad does not mean that you suddenly become the impeccably responsible person who has everything under control and really knows that everything will be okay (or even someone who necessarily always has clean clothes to put on). My mom was younger than me when she had her first child (which was me), and kind of wild still (which she still is). Could she have been any less surprised by the power of her presence and reassurance then than I am now? I know her, and I don't think so.

During my arachnophobic phase at about age 3, she or my dad would beat the walls and ceiling with a dishtowel when I would call out in fright that there were spiders in my room. We all have a laugh now, but I have a totally different perspective on that story today than I did pre-Junie. The only thing that makes me feel qualified to be the one that can confidently say everything is okay so go back to sleep (or that I just vanquished the army of spiders so go back to sleep) is that June needs me to be that person, even when I'm angry, or frustrated, or scared, or all three. Even in the middle of the night when my hair is ridiculous and I'm stumbling with exhaustion and my only desire is just to go back to bed. And also love. Clown cars and skyscrapers and oceans full of love. So much love that sometimes looking down at her in the dark all curled up with her 20 stuffed dogs, it can feel like all the cells of my body are swollen so full that they might all spontaneously rupture at once and spill their contents out of my body, down into the crib, and surround that little sleeping body in a warm squishy envelope of love.

A light course of recent events

Several things to bring up:
--So, Lloyd mentioned in a recent post that we are abstaining from tv until the end of lent. True, I've lobbied for one exception, which is that we (or, more specifically, I) be able to watch when I get home from work. Now, know that I'm only working one shift a week these days, so it doesn't seem to me like I'm asking for all that much. Also know that my work days are 12-plus hours long and thoroughly exhausting--remember, I'm out of practice, so it takes a good bit of the pep right out of me. I took 15 months off. I'm not really complaining, it's all good, but I just want to know that at the end of it all I have a soft couch, a cold beer (or 2), and a droning tv to come home to, to help me rid myself the detritus of the day (in the many forms it takes on an average day at the hospital).

Let's forget everything we know about the unchangeable nature of the calendar and say it's possible that one of these years Easter comes really early and the Superbowl comes really late for some reason. Just check back with us then and see who lobbies for an exemption clause. Also, as our friend Amanda pointed out, the upcoming start of the new season of ANTM makes the tv abstention a little harder for both of us. If you recognize those initials: you may think I'm kidding, but I'm not. If you don't recognize those initials: figure it out yourself. I don't need to willingly embarrass us any more than I already have.

--In a recent post I promised a list of June's words. Here goes: hi, no, mom, dad, uh-oh, juice, eat, pop, up, beep, moo, meow, woof woof, who who (what an owl says), and, as of this evening, moon. How about that?

Update: Lloyd has generously offered to drone at me when I get home from work. What a guy, right?

good reads

Please take note of the fancy book "widgets" located in the margin on the left. I was browsing my friend Jennifer's blog today and was reading her post titled, "How to stay busy on a weeknight without cable tv." Given our recently implemented television fast, I paid close attention to her suggestions. One that hit the spot: find reading recommendations at GoodReads.com. Adrienne and I both love it. It takes but a few seconds to sign-up and adding books is simple. Give it a try. Thanks Jennifer.

wrath averted

You guessed it, our day started with oatmeal, dressed up with ground flaxseed, wheatgerm, and a little brown sugar, and apple sauce. Adrienne was working, so June and I were on our own.

Following breakfast, I jumped into the shower, June played peekaboo with me behind the shower curtain, and then we both got dressed for Mass. To be perfectly honest, taking our active 16-month-old daughter to church without assistance from Adrienne stretches, or perhaps exceeds, my 16-month-old parenting skills. Sure we made it all the way to Communion before heading for the exit, but the journey getting there wasn't pretty. At one point during Mass, I let June walk around in the large hall just outside the church sanctuary. Before I knew it, she made her way into the smaller "daily chapel." She made a beeline towards the altar and started tugging on the antependium (more or less a decorative cloth) adorning the lectern. I was just waiting for lightning to strike. Luckily, she didn't put much muscle into her efforts so no damage was done, at least no physical damage. We somehow made it back into the sanctuary for the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Not since my grade school years have I so desperately wanted Mass to end; eventually it did and we made our way home.

Back at home, June immediately located her small brown-paper Whole Foods bag and recommenced her favorite activity du jour. She fills the bag with a variety of items and then drags it around the house, unloading and reloading it along the way. Books, cell phones, receipts, coasters-- if it's within her reach there's a good chance it gets tossed in the bag. This kept June entertained until lunchtime.

After lunch, I loaded June into our jogging stroller and we headed out for a ten mile run. Before stepping outside, I checked the forecast for temperature and precipitation; what could possibly be wrong with 60's and no rain? What initially felt like moderate winds soon seemed gale-force. The portion of the forecast I skipped over read, "steady 25 mph winds gusting to 40 mph." Our neighborhood and much of Duke's campus is covered with huge, beautiful oak trees; most of these trees, however, are nearing the end of their life cycles. It's not uncommon to see massive limbs, sometimes entire trees, felled by winds much less severe than today's. So given the aforementioned events that took place in the "daily chapel," I felt there was as good a chance as any that today I would be struck down by either a tree or a poorly tethered Krzyzewskiville tent (Krzyzewskiville is the makeshift "tent city" just outside Duke's basketball stadium. Students camp out for months, yes months, in advance of the UNC vs. Duke game. I run by "K-ville" several times a week). All joking aside, there were several times during today's run, especially during the portion in Duke Forest, that I was really nervous. The tall, skinny pine trees were bending at outrageous angles. As we made our way back towards home, a cross-street we first passed on the outbound leg of our run was now closed to traffic; a fairly large tree now covered the road (the picture was taken several hours later-- much of it had been cut and cleared away). Well, we finally made it home safely, but I felt like I had been through the wringer. June, on the other hand, slept blissfully for the majority of the ride.

Once home, I again took a quick shower and we scrambled out the door. June helped me choose a new memory card for our camera at Office Depot, and then we headed to, big surprise, The Museum of Life and Science. June is fascinated with Adrienne's sunglasses, so the new exhibit that incorporates 3-D glasses was a big hit with her. Not surprisingly, she didn't use the glasses for their intended purpose; she just collected them from the tray, handed them all to me, returned them to the tray, and then repeated several times. Whatever makes her happy. (sorry about the unclear picture, but it's a picture no less)

Following our trip to the museum, we drove to Duke to snap the tree photograph and then took a quick stop at the park for some windswept slide riding. Dinner, bath, and bed soon followed.

Precarious at times, but a fine day nonetheless.

Three other things from the past few days worth noting:

1. Yesterday, June made her first basket ever in a basketball hoop. Toddler-sized basketball goals were set out during class at The Little Gym. June looked like a toddler-sized World B. Free.

2. Last week was my mom's birthday and while I was talking to her I put the phone to June's ear. After a few moments of listening to her Nana, June said a very clear and deliberate, "Hiiiiiii," into the mouthpiece. A nice birthday gift indeed. I think it qualifies as her first real phone conversation.

3. Expect our reading list to rapidly expand. We've given up television for Lent. Adrienne is already petitioning for exceptions. While I'm working, CNBC is exempted. Trust me, I'd prefer never seeing or hearing CNBC again, but once in a blue moon, it has a breaking news story before anyone else.

Colorado redux, part 2

A few other things about our trip to Colorado that I was too disgusted with the formatting of the previous post to include at the time ( I just wanted to post the thing and be done with it):

--It's sad to me that there are no pictures of June and my mom and dad (especially my mom, who was there longer than my dad) all together, because they spent so much of the week hanging out, bonding, and getting in good quality time. My parents are incredibly creative, patient and understanding with Junie, and it fills my heart with gratitude that June is so loved for being exactly who she is. The reason there are no pictures of them together is that my mom took all the pictures all week. I guess she must have actually read "The Joy of Digital Photography", instead of racking up late fees and returning it to the library, unread, in shame. Mom, I'll get some of you next time, I promise.

--The other thing my parents did for me was allow me to go snowshoeing, snowboarding, go out at night, and to sleep in in the morning like I used to be able to do before I became a mom myself. Mom, dad--thanks. I really enjoyed being able to run around without responsibilities.

--June was really a good little traveler. I did a good bit of worrying about our 2 cross-country plane trips before we left, all for naught. The flight out required agility, lightning-quick reflexes, and thinking on my feet to get us there without a meltdown, but we made it. The trip back she was a little under the weather and sleepy/mellow and really easy. Phew!

--So, as I mentioned, June was a little under the weather by the end of our trip. The runny nose that started the day we left for our trip suddenly blossomed into a temp of 104 degrees+, listlessness, and general crummy feelings.

In regard to that, here's my case for why Lauren deserves to be considered for Sister of the Year '08: the night June spiked her temp I spent a few hours trying to help her resettle back to sleep sometime in the very early morning hours. I went back to the room I was staying in but I could still hear Junie murmuring uncomfortably. Then I heard her giggling, then I heard her barking like a dog. This so unnerved me in the middle of the night that I went and woke my sister up from a dead sleep to be there with me. June felt so hot and so limp in my arms and then she started barking--I was terrified it meant something horrible.

Lauren stayed up with us for a few hours to help me get a grip on the situation and to help me decide to reschedule our return flight (we were supposed to leave the next morning) and handle all the logistics. Then, she got up with us to go to the urgent care clinic early the next morning even though I could have found it on my own and she didn't really have to come at all. But I was so happy to have her there, and she was the one who calmed June down enough for the nurse to complete the exam. The doctor took one look in June's ears and declared it an ear infection. Again, phew. She started antibiotics an hour later and was visibly much restored by the next morning. And I'll always be grateful to Lauren for doing that for us.

--Lauren and Foster were incredible hosts, gracious, accommodating and thoughtful in every way. I hope we get the chance to try to match their hospitality very soon.

--We missed Lloyd. June was so tickled to see him when we got back. And he kept the house clean and orderly for our homecoming. Can you beat that?!

Colorado redux

(Note: I've been working on this post for 3 days. We've faced some daunting formatting challenges with all the photos and text. We like to post more often to keep you coming back for more. So don't assume we've lost steam; we've been otherwise laid up. I'm so thankful for Lloyd's computer expertise to untangle this formatting mess.)

Dear reader, I owe my mother a public apology for the libel published against her on this very page. Not only did she email me every picture she took in Vail, she was probably in the act of sending them at the very moment I was defaming her. So without further ado, let's get to it:

Mom, Lauren, June, Phoebe and I took a walk up Lauren and Foster's street on a day that was 32 degrees and unbelievably sunny. This was taken only a short walk up the street from Lauren and Foster's house. It was so warm that we all molted a layer or two. June felt so warm and snuggly all bundled up in her stroller that she got right down to napping. That's my sister Lauren in the picture with me (just in case you've never met my family, even though if you're reading this you have about a 90% or greater chance of being a member of either the Taylor or Abramson clans).

Lloyd's sister Molly and her husband Phil live in Broomfield, CO, near Denver. By terrific coincidence, Molly was working a one-day promotion gig on the base of the mountain on Saturday. On Sunday, she and Phil snowboarded Beaver Creek, then headed to Lauren and Foster's for après-ski. It was great to see them and June had fun playing hiding games and peekaboo with her aunt and uncle. I feel fortunate that it worked out so well for us all to get together.

Lauren and Foster's house is just out of sight on the right. That's Foster in the middle with Phoebe and that's June in the stroller, snoozing peacefully away. As you can see, it's no exaggeration to say that the views out of Lauren and Foster's huge picture windows are nothing short of breathtaking.

Photos from the June-and-Phoebe series don't really need captions. I'll just point out that the pink object June is holding is a cup full of cheerios supplied by my mom. Phoebe knows what side her bread is buttered on.

Out for a snowshoe not far from Lauren and Foster's house, and it's another sparkling bright and staggeringly beautiful day in the mountains. Here, you see the backs of my dad, Lauren, Foster, and Foster's mother retreating up the hill.

Junie exploring the oceans of snow. So much snow! And she liked it, at least part of the time. Pretty cute in a snowsuit, huh? This was her very first experience with that form of precipitation. Next year if we make it out there we might get her on skis for the first time. We'll get her on a sled for sure.

watch out kerri strug

In case you were alarmed by my absence, I was not involved with the Societe-Generale-rogue-trader scandal. A $7 billion loss -- that's what I call a bad trade.

Here's your weekend recap...

Saturday morning June and I powered up for an active day with an oatmeal and apple sauce breakfast. Adrienne soon joined us, and we headed to our trial class at the Little Gym. The Little Gym is just that, a well-padded gymnastics space for kids four months to twelve years in age. We walked, ran, clapped, log-rolled, sang songs, and helped June climb up, on, and over various obstacles. We learned that unassisted jumping is typically a skill reserved for two-year-olds; according to my calculations, this puts June in the 9000th percentile. Never one to miss a teaching opportunity, I quickly took June aside and told her not to rest on her laurels. I told her there will always be a toddler somewhere in the world trying to knock her off her jumping throne. It's hard to tell if my speech registered.

After class, Adrienne took June to get new shoes. While they shopped, I went running. I feel this weekend's weather was a blessing and a curse. I ran 26 miles Saturday and 10 miles Sunday in shorts and short-sleeves and was actually warm at times. Low 60s is great and all, but it's unlikely that I'll see similar weather on Mt. Mitchell later this month. I'm happy to report that after this weekend I now begin to gradually decrease my training volume until race day. Notwithstanding some very minor tightness in my right leg, I've made it through the lion's share of training injury free; a blessing to be sure.

Following my run and June's nap, I took her to the park with our neighbors Gary, Kirsten, their 22-month-old daughter Rachel, their 5-week-old son Alex, and Kirsten's mom Claudia. Pictured at left is June, Rachel, and Claudia; if you look closely, you can see Kirsten playing peek-a-boo with the girls through the tunnel holes. June and Rachel spent most of their time traversing the tunnel and test-driving an assortment of slides. The weather was so nice it was probably impossible to have a bad time. And after an hour-plus of exploration and fun, we, once again, managed to escape the playground without tears from either one of us.

June woke up Sunday morning in a less-than-wonderful mood; probably just some pre-Super Bowl jitters. Adrienne headed out for groceries while June and I shared breakfast. After drinking some milk and downing some rolled oats, June's mood improved considerably. She soon turned her focus to some of her favorite activities: reading books, bouncing on her zebra, and dancing. When Adrienne returned, she took June to the park (same one as yesterday) with her friend Aaron and his mom, Mary. From what I heard, the slides were the hit of the day.

The rest of Sunday is a bit of a blur; Super Bowl Sunday seems to always be that way for me. I still can't believe that David Tyree catch -- undoubtedly, one of the best I've ever seen. This morning, I told June if she continues to work hard at the gym, she'll soon be making catches like that too.