Warm Socks

The day began at Cannon Mountain in New Hampshire.  I watched the first man in the 1000 Islands Silver Express take off at noon in a miserable fog and drizzle.  The team is composed of 12 men from the Thousand Islands region who are all over the age of 50....my husband and 11 of his running buddies.  One of the other wives and I go along and play a support role.

After slogging through the muddy fields and puddles at the starting line, we hopped in the car and drove down the road to cheer on other members of the relay team.  Then we headed for the campground at White Lake State Park and prepared to serve the guys a hot meal.  The skies had cleared, but the ground was wet and there was no chance of my feet drying out.

The team travels in two large vans with 6 men in each.  One van pulled in around 6 pm.  We fed them, they crawled back in the van or in the tent we had set up to rest.  Later in the evening, they took off and the other van arrived.  We fed them, and they rested.  Because the men were in the tent, the other wife and I huddled around the fire trying to stay warm.  The sky was clear with a brilliant moon and many stars visible through the treetops. Unfortunately, such a clear night is a perfect set up for chilly weather.  We could see our breath.  By the time the second van left and we could break camp, it was 1 AM.  Although I was wearing two sweatshirts and was wrapped in a blanket sitting next to a campfire, I was shivering.

We had made a reservation at a nearby hotel.  My daughter and two little granddaughters, who had come to watch the race, had checked into the hotel hours earlier.  We crept in quietly.  I crawled in the double bed with my daughter.  She stirred and asked how I was.  I said that I was cold.  She asked if I needed a long-sleeved shirt.
"No, it's my feet that are so cold."
She replied, "Oh, I just took my socks off!"
She handed them to me, still warm from her body heat.

Ah...the gift of warm socks!

I fell asleep quickly, thankful for that small blessing.