How did the earth get here?

Where did people come from?

Bam, pow, one after the other. Time slowed as the possible answers flowed through my mind. I lean into it, indicating that I'd take this one. It's been a good day and I've got the psychic energy left for this. I can see The Wife from the corner of my eye wondering what I will say. Taking a second, something that I usually forsake and it shows, I tried to line up my thoughts.

There are few questions whose answers are more telling about what you believe and the strength of those beliefs than these, I'm convinced. I'm not thinking that though. We still talk about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny here in a house full of little kids, but she's no longer a baby. I should get this right, it's a parental moment-of-truth. Failure to do so will surely be her spiritual gateway to existential angst, lots of door slamming, and numerous changes of career masked as 'soul-searching'. Best to be treading carefully here.

Tackling the harder question first, we discussed at somewhere above a first-grade level the relevant ideas: How a theory is not a truth, was Man created by God or descended from mudskippers, and the fossil record versus a very special week some 6,000 years ago. None of it was very deep; she's not seven yet, but since she's the oldest, we can still be surprised at her understanding.

The first question was the easier of the two. She's still at the age where it's okay to like what Daddy likes and swirling gas and coalescing nebulae are within my realm of knowledge. I checked "astronomer" as a job interest on one of those standardized tests as a teen, and lo, the girls, they did not flock to me. With this girl though, we found a video online that showed the formation of our Solar system after my basement library failed to show us the picture. Try the new "Google Parenting Tool!"

I'm not so vain that I have to congratulate myself here for being honest with my child. The point is that we get dozens of opportunities every week to influence and teach and for once, I know we got a base-hit. The answer wasn't canned, an ideologue's soundbite, but instead the acknowledgment of how vast the universe really is and that beliefs can and do vary. I've made few more succinct speeches in my life, nor felt better about anything I've written (especially here) than those minutes this evening around our table.

She then asked for another serving of baked beans.

Wince.

Today's hit to my tender male psyche was brought to you by the EX2Adventures Backyard Burn trail race. Yep, I finished dead last, right in front of the nice lady, a "sweeper" in the parlance of the active set, who walked and ran behind me as I limped through this little race.

Tree roots, treacherous mud, wet leaves, splashy stream crossings; all of it I expected would add a jolly nature to a cold Fall morning run. We'd have the camaraderie of a platoon at a double-time pace mixed with the glorious grit of the Raid Gauloises. But, alas.

Mile 3 was tough, and the knee began to raise a ruckus. Around mile 4, at a long and overly steep descent, one marked "XXX Extreme Danger" or some-such, the old knee gave out and I pretty much hobbled it, cursing under my breath in pain and irritation, from there to the finish. I was able to run the flats but the downhills required crab-walking, favoring my left, and the uphills weren't much better. I finished at a run.

Hardest short race ever.

The redeeming bit was that the 10-mile race was two laps of the same loop, and since I was lapped by some of those maniacs admirable athletes (80 or less minutes for the 10 miles) it wasn't obvious to the crowd that I was dead last. Hooray for small victories (or at least camouflaged public failure!)

The season's done, back on the job in March.

I'll be taking the elevator at work tomorrow.

   Name           Age  BIB#  M/F  Finish Time
66 richard morgan 48   348    m   2:27:49
67 andrew cap     35   377    m   2:27:51

Ahem, I'm not 48 just yet. Make that 38.

I feel as if I might be close to death, or certainly rigor mortis, born of my efforts in yesterday's Fauquier Half-Marathon. Thirteen miles, by far the farthest I've run in my entire life. We had to walk some, mostly due to a hill that now has my eternal enmity.

2:27:50, for an 11:17 pace, by my watch. Pictures and official times are still forthcoming.

The guys at OTR Sports put on an excellent race through the Fall-draped countryside of Fauquier county. Cows, horses, mountain views, all a plus. Good job, guys, and thanks to all of the volunteers manning the water stations.

This is the peak of my running season and it will end on a short cross-country race on 11/19. After that, short and cold days will force me (heh, as if I'm not ready) into winter hibernation. Those bears are pretty smart.

I can't remember the images themselves, as much as the quality of them. There were garish taillights, whirling red sirens, serious men in windbreakers bathed in red and yellow light. There were guns. The TV news graphics fairly screamed from the perimeter of the small screen; "breaking news", "developing story", "break in the case".

Asleep in their Chevrolet Caprice at a rest stop in western Maryland, John Allen Muhammed and Lee Boyd Malvo were captured. They had murdered ten random people and wounded three more, sniper-style, in our area, sparking fear and trepidation at every gas station and parking lot across the region.

Our own developing story, our breaking news, red-headed baby Margaret, arrived on this day on 2002. It was a good day.

Technorati Tag: four

Things to remember:

• "Slow is the New Fast"
• More cowbells!
• Early morning near-death experience
• Crisp Fall morning

Technorati Tag: running

Lest you think the Dry Erase Wisdom is the only picture you'll get today...

My sister and I, has to be 1972 or 1973, at my grandparent's house. My grandmother had a thing for owls and giraffes, so I'm sporting the owl sweater-vest over the year-appropriate striped shirt. You can blame my mother for the bowl haircut, though, she liked bangs.

It's striking how much we two look like my two kids.

Gawd, we were so happy.

Technorati Tag: Sporty clothing

I am searching for the parents of CALEB HARRIS SMITH, born about 1824, either in Tennessee or North Carolina. He died in 1915, Smith Co., Texas, after an illustrious career as a minister in North Texas.

Caleb married ELIZABETH WATKINS in 1849.

Caleb also served in the CSA during the Civil War. I have records on him serving as a 2nd Lt, Company E, Clark's Regiment of the Texas Infantry during 1862.

Children are unknown except for my ancestor, ALTONIA SMITH, who married JOHN WESLEY STEELE.

This also posted on GenForum today.

Technorati Tag: smith surname