ex(PR)essed

He did it! Jeff completed the JFK 50 on Saturday in freezing temperatures and with a great attitude. What a day!

We got to our hotel in Hagerstown around 11 p.m. on Friday. We simply went to bed — we were both tired and anxious to get some sleep before the big day.

The alarm went off at 5 a.m., and we both bundled up. Jeff ate about half a bagel and drank a Naked Juice. We left the hotel around 5:25 a.m. to drive to the school in Boonsboro where the packet pick-up and pre-race meeting were. We got a decent parking place, picked up Jeff’s packet, and joined the hundreds of other runners in the gymnasium for last minute instructions. The race director reminded the runners of some important details and recognized race veterans — people who have competed in the JFK 50 for several years. It was impressive. A young man next to us stood as a veteran of this race and admitted he was trying to complete it in 6:45, a phenomenal time. (He met his goal, by the way!) At that point, Jeff was feeling relaxed and ready to go!

Then, we were off. The start line was probably 1/2 a mile or so from the school, so we began the brisk walk into downtown Boonsboro. This bank time-temperature sign was a popular stop-off for photos! It was cold!

We got to the start line just in time. By the time I walked the extra half block to find a spot along the road, the starting pistol had been fired, and the runners were off!

I quickly bustled back to the hotel to take a shower, dress in my warmest clothes, and eat some breakfast. Shortly before 9 a.m., I was back in the car and headed to mile 15, the first spot where I would see Jeff. At this particular location, the runners were coming down off the Appalachian Trail through a series of switchbacks. The small country roads that allowed us to get close to our runners were jammed full of cars, and I had to park at least 1/2 mile away. The walking actually helped keep me warm, so I really didn’t mind too much.

Jeff looked great at this point and seemed in good spirits. He was about 30 minutes off his desired pace, but I knew the AT portion of the race would probably be the most challenging in regards to terrain. I was thrilled that he seemed to be doing so well.

I saw him again at mile 27. By this time, the runners were on the C&O Canal, a dirt/gravel, completely flat towpath. At this particular juncture, I saw two runners fall. The first seemed to just collapse, but quickly bounced back up and kept going. The second, a young woman, lost her footing and fell down this stone embankment. Thankfully, she bounced up too, and when I saw her at the finish line many hours later, she was bawling. I’m thrilled that she finished, and she’ll have quite a story!

Jeff seemed to a little less enthusiastic around mile 27, and he mentioned that he was fighting a headache. I offered Tylenol at the next stop and he refused it. I was hopeful he would shake the headache because sometimes they can really knock him out.

I saw Jeff again on the C&O around mile 38. It was obvious at this point that the entire field of runners were feeling pretty spent. Almost everyone was walking. And, it was getting so cold. We were nearing the end of daylight and the natural warmth of the sun, and people were slowing. While I waited along the trail for Jeff, a runner actually asked me if I was alright! I was bundled to the max, but my knees were still knocking from the cold! How ironic that someone who had already run 38 miles was asking the girl who just got out of her warm car whether she was alright!

I saw Jeff again at mile 46. It was dark. And cold. And, I had gone all day without finding a place to eat or pee. I was losing my enthusiasm, and praying frequently for a good attitude. And, I was getting worried that Jeff’s pace would put him at risk for being swept off the course due to time limits before he finished.

Thankfully, my fears were unfounded! While waiting at the finish line, I heard the DJ announce 15 minutes until they cleared the course. My heart skipped a beat, and then, there he was! Eleven hours and forty-seven minutes later, and he was crossing the finish line, having completed his first 50-mile run! Wow!

I was amazed at how well he did afterwards — I was expecting the worst. Cramps, naseua, extreme fatigue. He was obviously beat, but he was in good spirits.

He commented, “My legs feel like they weigh 100 pounds each and my feet feel like ground hamburger.” Mmmmmm.

We got home around 9 p.m. on Saturday. Jeff immediately enjoyed a hot shower. I unpacked our bags, put on my jammies, and we both went to bed. We were exhausted (for very different reasons). Obviously, running that distance takes alot of you (like more than 7,000 calories and about three pounds), and navigating unknown roads and standing in the cold can be tiring in an entirely different way.

Two days post-race, and Jeff is taking the stairs a little slower and shuffling at times. But, overall, he is recovering very well, and I couldn’t be prouder. What an accomplishment!

I was one surprised girl to wake up and see snow this morning. Much bitterness about the weather on the third floor of Old Main today…

For months Jeff has been talking about and preparing for the JFK 50, a 50-mile trail race that snakes through central Maryland. Now, here we are, less than 48 hours from the start and our house is bustling with preparations.

Jeff has been sharing detailed notes about his preparations on his blog. He’s worrying about things like hydration, temperatures, chaffing, and the like. Read all about it here.

I’m also busy preparing. You see, it’s no easy task to watch a trail race. So, there are limited opportunities to see him, unlike in the last two marathons he did when I was able to see him 10-12 times. If all goes well and I can self-navigate rural Maryland, I will see him five times at most. That means a lot of down time for yours truly, so I just wanted you to know that I’m also prepared. Here are my plans:

Hydration
Basically, my hydration plan for the day is quite simple: lots of coffee. Our day will start around 5 a.m. I’m hopeful that there will be plenty of Starbucks…er, I mean AID stations, throughout the day.

Temperatures
It’s going to be cold, no doubt. I’ll be wearing my Columbia shoes, wool hiking socks, brown pants, Under Armour long sleeve shirt, sweater, Columbia jacket, and gloves.

Chaffing
I don’t anticipate any, thankfully.

Plan of attack
First and foremost, don’t get lost. Next, scout out warm places to avoid sitting in an idling car all day. Third, address all the envelopes for this year’s Christmas cards. Fourth, read. Fifth, cheer for Jeff when he passes by and hopefully capture a photo or two. Sixth, maintain hydration and nutrition plan. Next, crack open my puzzle book. Repeat.

Seriously, I haven’t had the best attitude about this particular race. But, now that it’s only two sleeps away, I’m getting on board and looking forward to seeing the love of my life accomplish this incredible goal.

My adventures in jury duty lasted the entire week. Same case. Four days. I was somewhat fascinated by the process throughout the trial. The different styles of the attornies; the demeanor of the various, and in some cases ridiculous, witnesses; and the constant shuffling up and down the stairs during recesses provided an interesting diversion for several days.

Then Friday rolled around, and by 11 a.m., my 11 fellow jurors and I were locked in a small room and left to unanimously determine the fate of the defendant. There was little common ground. Two people felt strongly that he was guilty. Three that he was innocent. And the other seven waffled back and forth until I wanted to scream.

After five hours of defending my position, posing questions to those with a varying opinion, and wondering if my claustrophobic self could stand another five hours in that same room with the same people, I caved. By then, the vote was 10-2, and I was in the minority. And, I wanted to go home, see my husband, and go to small group to be reminded of the Lord’s work in this messed up world. So, we delivered our “unanimous” verdict to the judge. I mostly stared at the floor.

I am relatively disillusioned by this experience. It has been upsetting and frustrating and discouraging. I have spent the past three days longing for a delete button so that I might erase those four days of jury duty and the details I heard instead of replaying them over and over in my head and wishing for a different outcome.

I’m praying for peace, and, in the meantime, using a fat, red Sharpie to put a check in the box next to Civic Duty on life’s long list of experiences.

When we got back from vacation in late September, a letter was waiting in our stack of mail from Cumberland County “inviting” me to jury duty. To fulfill my obligation, my first jury duty experience began yesterday.

I have to drive to Carlisle for jury duty, so I must allot about 30 minutes for the drive and walk from the parking garage. Yesterday, I was tracking right on schedule until I actually got into Carlisle. I couldn’t make the turn onto Pomfret Street — apparently too many other jurors were trying to enter the parking garage at that time, and the traffic was backed up more than half a block. I waited in traffic there and got my first taste of what the rest of the morning would be like: waiting, herding, and more waiting.

Once I found a parking place (on the highest level of the garage), I hurridly rushed across the street only to wait in another line to enter the courthouse.

When I finally arrived to the courthouse’s fourth floor, I was lined up against the wall with my fellow jurors while we waited to check-in. A glitch with the computer slowed this process to a crawl for awhile. Finally, I was checked-in, given my juror number, and sent into an absolutely packed room to find my seat. I crammed myself in between a woman reading the Bible and a quiet man who kept smiling at me.

And the waiting began. I read, looked around, and read some more. Around 9 a.m., someone came in to ask important questions of the whole group — things that probably should have been predetermined — like whether we all actually lived in Cumberland County and were U.S. citizens. By 9:30, we were all herded…er, I mean escorted…to a courtroom where a judge could explain the privilege of jury duty to us. By now, the defendants and their attorneys were lining the hallways, peering suspiciously at us as we walked past. After Jury Duty 101, we were all escorted back to the jury room to wait for our number to be called.

My number was called in the third group, and I proceeded (once again in a straight line) to the courtroom where two attorneys began questioning us as a group. Within an hour, I went from being among 65 randomly selected jurors to a jury of 14 hearing a criminal case.

I listened to testimony all afternoon, and the case will resume tomorrow. (The courthouse is closed today for Veteran’s Day, so we’re all back at our regular jobs.) I’m anxious to deliberate with my fellow jurors tomorrow. I certainly already have opinions about this case, and I am curious as to whether the other jurors are thinking along the same lines.

Stay tuned for the next installment: Jury Duty, Part Two…

Everyone is talking about Barack Obama today (and rightly so!), but there’s another man that has made this a most memorable day for me. Allow me to introduce Silas Aaron Myers, the sweet little boy born to my best friend Jamie early this morning!

When I answered the phone at 7 a.m., I didn’t expect to hear Jamie’s voice on the other end. And, I really didn’t expect to hear her exclaim, “I’m a mom!” Baby Silas came four weeks early, but all is well. According to his mom, “he’s perfect,” and I don’t doubt it.

Congratulations, Jamie and Brad! Welcome to the world, little Silas; can’t wait to meet you.

Well, it’s 8:49 a.m., and I have already cast my vote on this historic Election Day. I decided to brave the lines and vote early, knowing that I likely have a long, busy day ahead of me. I waited about 30 minutes…not because the line was really long, but because I vote at a residential senior living center, and most of the polling place “staff” are age 85+. Apparently around that age, people become a little less familiar with the alphabet. I kept my cool, but I thought a few people around me might blow a gasket!

I had the “Today Show” on while I was getting dressed this morning, and Tom Brokaw was referring to this election as the “most important one in history.” Jeff joked that the commentators say that about every election, and I think he’s probably right. However, this election certainly is historic, and, regardless of the outcome, I think it’s pretty amazing that in January either an African-American or a woman will be in a new position of power. Progress has been slow, but I’m glad to be alive (and young!) to see it happening. This election sets the stage for more serious candidacies involving women and minorities!

Like everyone, I am glad that this election season is coming to an end. Although, yesterday, after sending one of my favorite politics professors yet another media inquiry related to the election, he quipped, “Just think, Beth. The 2012 campaign starts Nov. 5.” YIKES!

Today, in reply to an e-mail, I got to write a sentence that read, “Sorry for the extraneous plastic eyeballs in the CIVA news release.”

The curator of our on-campus art gallery brought to my attention that we mentioned in our news release that plastic eyes were one of the items on display in the presently-showing CIVA exhibit when, sadly, those gems were not part of the exhibit that we received for show at Messiah. Ooops.

The curator was gracious about the mistake, knowing, I suspect, that the mention of plastic eyeballs in the lead of a news release might be the necessary hook to get the journalist to keep on reading!