Tuesday, April 30, 2024

Don't Run Boston again

I've done the "Don't Run Boston" race a few times and I freely admit that it's one of my favorite events.  Trail running, navigation, views of Boston while spending time in the woods, and a chance to briefly experience the city on marathon weekend.  It keeps calling me back.  Last year's 50K with Taylor was so much fun, I was even more inspired to come back and try the 50-mile version again.

Of course, when there's an eclipse in the area only a week beforehand, that's an obvious link-up in the travel arrangements!

I had a day to spare, so I decided to visit the JFK library just south of Boston.  It has a nice combination of history, politics, science, and Kennedy's Boston accent on the TV screens.  An excellent choice for a morning stroll.

View of a presidential campaign rally on one of those TV screens:


This picture has a bunch of things that I recognize - a hand mixer, Etch-a-Sketch, the game of Life - and a few things that are slightly before my time:


Looks like all-electric cooking was a "thing" in the 60's:


I did not expect to see a coconut.  It turns out JFK was in the Navy during WWII and his PT boat was sunk by a destroyer.  He and his crew swam to an island, found some locals, and inscribed a message on a coconut for one of them to deliver.  That was enough to get them rescued.  A story I did not know!


More election coverage:


A few states have switched colors in the years since this election map!


Hey, it's cellist Pablo Casals on a visit to the White House!  I learned about him while we were scouting for an urban race in Puerto Rico:


A political cartoon caught my eye...


...when I noticed the phrase "Boston Strong" on the little sign - I guess that has been a local characteristic since well before the marathon bombing;


Of course my favorite section related to the Space Race:


"We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard"  (or more accurately, "hahd")


Ah, another excellent topic - the Peace Corps.  I wouldn't exist if it weren't for that program, because that's where my parents met (in Afghanistan).  So thank you for that, Mr. President!


A Peace Corp recruitment poster:


A piece of the Berlin Wall, with the west side facing front and the blank east side shown in the mirror (untouched because people on that side were not allowed near it during the Cold War):


The requisite replica of the Oval Office, with a photo of the actual office in the background:


Here's the view of the city skyline from inside the library, calling to me to take a walk along the water:


Duck!


Looking back at the large building that houses the JFK library:


Happy to be in the sunshine, with an excellent forecast for race day tomorrow:


I briefly considered trying for a ticket to the Red Sox game that evening, but it didn't seem (quite) prudent to stay up past my bedtime the night before a race.  Maybe another time.

On to the topic of this blog post, the actual race!  I don't have any photos for this one, just a short report.

The weather was fantastically awesome.  Cool the whole day, starting sunny then cloudy then drizzly.  Most of the rockiest sections (early in the day) were dry.  There had been plenty of rain in recent days, so the trail had some puddles here and there.  And one pond crossing in the later miles.  Overall everything was in excellent shape and I had a lovely time running and trekking.

It has been interesting watching the progression of technology in this, the event with no race markings.  The concept of navigating for yourself is a big draw for me, so I'll always carry and refer to the maps.  Right at the start, a group ahead of me almost missed the first turn, so I wasn't sure just how scattered the field would get.  Then I never saw anyone get lost (not to say it didn't happen), but I suspect more runners these days are downloading the gpx track onto their phones and following along on their wrist.  More power to y'all - but I'm sticking with "old school" because that's why I'm there.  Way more fun (my version of fun)!

I fixed a few of my nav issues from last year (thank you again to Taylor for her patience with my wrong turns!) and even fixed a long-standing problem I've had in the final 13 miles (the way down from the overlook).  Finally!  Just one spot remaining that needs some work (getting back to that same road from a different direction, oddly enough).  I was very pleased.

My legs did really well.  It was good training for upcoming races.  The current race cutoff time doesn't allow for much slow-down from my previous efforts.  I managed to match my first DRB time from 13 years ago, to the minute actually.  Again, very pleased.

I had only one misstep (which is also on par with previous experiences here).  The blue Skyline Trail has the bulk of the rocky, technical parts.  I was picking my way down one of them when I met some hikers who asked if I was trail running?  Well, not at that moment, but in general, yes, I was.  They told me I was smart to take it easy on the tricky downhill.

Yes, smart, I try to be smart (or "smaht").  Apparently not smart enough, because not 10 minutes later I tripped over something, my water bottle went flying, and I rolled to the side of the trail.  Let's see, no major injuries, just a slightly scraped knee and a bruised palm (and a cramping calf that didn't appreciate the rapid change of direction).  That slowed me down for the next several miles (taking it even more carefully) but otherwise, no problem.

It reminded me of a previous bloody knee at DRB (again from a Skyline stumble).  Way more people noticed that one.  That was the first time I heard the term "digga", from a guy I assume was a local.  As in, "I see you took a digga!"

The previously-mentioned pond crossing was a surprise.  It's a trail that goes between two ponds, except the trail was under a couple inches of water.  OK, just slog on through!  Then around to the other side where there was a footbridge... which was also under water.  At least this was within a few miles of the finish.

The volunteers at the one aid station (that we visited 3 times) and the pond (came by twice plus the finish) were wonderful.  The whole event is low-key and well run.  Major thank you to Howie for continuing to put it on over the years.

To close this out, a picture from the airplane - I think Niagara Falls is down there somewhere:


Yay for Boston and a wonderful trip to the Northeast!

Monday, April 22, 2024

Great American Solar Eclipse

Ever since we experienced a total eclipse in Oregon in 2017, we have been planning for the one in 2024.  The path of totality went right through the country, from Texas (where John is from) to Vermont (where I'm from) and beyond.  A chance to share it with family, how could we not?

I flew up to visit Mom in Vermont, where it's always iffy whether you'll be able to see the sky on any given day (especially in the spring).  It snowed there the week before, for example.  Happily, the forecast was for a nice high pressure system and probable clear skies, and we got mostly that.  Only a thin high cloud layer, nothing too intrusive on our eclipse viewing.

Mom also figured out that we had seen a total eclipse together once before, when I was less than a year old.  Mom and Dad drove us out to the tip of Cape Cod where totality barely nipped the coast (imagine the crowds out there if that happened today!)  I don't remember anything about the day, but I'll take it, as it makes "3" for my total lifetime total eclipse count.

Mom and I debated driving north to get closer to the mid-point of totality.  We could get an extra minute of darkness if we wanted to try.  In return, we'd probably spend a lot of time on the road (possibly late into the evening).  We decided it would be a nicer experience if we just walked out of her house and found a hill to watch from.

Mom found the perfect place!  We strolled over to a closed golf course, joined the "throngs" (not really!) of eclipse watchers and set up a chair.  There were other people here and there, and there was so much room and so few people that everyone had plenty of space.  As you can see, this was an ideal spot:


Plus we had views of mountains in all directions:


Camel's Hump is starting to get dark as we approach totality:


Neither of us can see the camera but somehow I managed a silly selfie:


Mom had no idea why we carried a colander from the house, and she said she was glad it was inside her backpack so she wouldn't get questioned by other people we passed on the way.  It turns out our 2017 science talks came in handy yet again.  The circular holes in the colander make crescent-shaped shadows when the sun is partially covered, a fun phenomenon:


Getting close!


And... it was dark (mostly)!... we heard a confused dog barking in a nearby house, the people around us cheered, some lights went on in the distance... it's happening!


Yay for an amazing day with Mom!


There are many, many better photos than this out there on the interwebs:


As soon as the sun peeked back out from the other side of the moon, I turned on "Here Comes the Sun" and we danced and smiled.  Even a pair of women nearby joined us in the celebration.  Mom tells me that this song played on the radio at the same moment during my first eclipse and we decided it would be a fitting tribute and a way to imagine that Dad was joining us in the happiness  :)

Meanwhile (or actually, earlier in the afternoon) in Texas, John got to share the day with family and friends.  Their weather forecast had been way worse than ours, but they also got way lucky with blue skies and only a few clouds.  Yay for eclipse luck in both places!

Hello y'all!


I love this picture Danny took of John's parents:


The solar production chart from the Beard Farm, with a telltale dip in the middle of the afternoon:


That was so totally worth it (pun intended), thank you universe!