Yeah, so I forgot about a bottle of La Crema I put in the back seat of my car last week…
Turns out corks don’t like heat. Who knew? (I knew.)
Don’t worry though– the bags caught most of it, the rest got Febreezed the hell out of, and I always keep a spare shoebox in the trunk for emergencies.
Anyhoo, how’m I doing on that ol’ marathon training?
Yeah, I’m supposed to do 9 miles tomorrow and then go to an all-day concert. The odds of me actually doing 9 miles (concert notwithstanding) is slim to none. Especially since my longest long run hasn’t even been close to that. And if I DO miraculously complete nine miles, I will probably have to skip the concert and spend the rest of the day in an ice bath.
Realistically? I’m guessing I can manage six, maybe seven if it’s not too hot.
And here’s the money shot: enjoying a refreshing hoppy beverage after the run. Yep, we come prepared.
Kate plays it cool; I of course am the eternal dork.
But…wow! I felt FABULOUS! All the bugs, tree branches, muddy creeks, death-defying leaps, turns and torturous inclines you’d think might wreck a run? They make me feel like I’m home.
And the Mission St. IPA and Upland Dragonfly?
They make me feel like I’m home, in bed, under a warm binkie.
…
I did eat one bug. It flew right into my mouth and hit the back of my throat and I coughed a little and then swallowed. No matter what they tell you, this is the real reason you inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth.
And not because it’s all that hard — it’s just not all that fun either.
Too much jumpy, not enough lifty. My old lady knees can’t handle it.
Anyhoo, Thursday!
This afternoon I’m attempting my first trail run since I don’t know when. All you people have been teasing me with your tales of fantastic (and awful) trail runs– it’s driving me batty. Plus, I haven’t run with my katiepants in…MONTHS?! Wahhhhhh.
Hope I can keep up!
If I don’t die, I’ll provide you with a mind-numbingly detailed account of today’s endeavors.
In the meantime, enjoy this…it’s relevant, brutal and uplifting.
Dreadnaught on draft last night at Patrick’s! Weeee!
I also had the pleasure of explaining to the man next to me (who was drinking Bud Lite) what a Dreadnaught is. I was very nice about it and not at all condescending.
I didn’t take a picture because I was too busy guzzling the hoppy goodness…I also didn’t take a picture of the best stuffed jalapenos I’ve ever had in my life. And I don’t take stuffed jalapenos lightly.
It feels like I haven’t worked out in ages, even though I ran yesterday morning. I did not make the same mistake today that I made last week when I just decided to go running because I thought I had nothing better to do at 5:30 a.m.
Today I just forced myself to stay in bed until 6:30. I know, it was excruciating. Especially with the cat giving me wet willies for an hour until I fed her.
Today I’m feeling all Trouble Zone-y (probably the Dreadnaught talking). An extra long torture session with Jillian sounds like just the right thing.
I feel kind of dorky going on and on about her stupid workout DVD all the time. I hate liking things that are popular. It’s just a problem I have. It’s why I still refuse to read Twilight, watch Glee, or listen to the Beatles. There’s this t-shirt you can buy at the Onion that says Your Favorite Band Sucks.
That’s pretty much how I feel about everything.
Anyway…Jillian. It’s a love/hate with us. She has helped me find the muscles underneath the fat and for that I am grateful. She takes me through a series of floor exercises and body weight training circuits that leave me sweating and cursing and aching. I have found something I like to do that actually works and doesn’t hurt me (sorry running, you know you’re still my first love.) And, I don’t have to be around people when I do it (except for my husband, who sits on the couch and makes fun of me while I do plank rows and bicycle crunches). It’s a win/win/win/win/win.
But I still sort of hate her.
I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I hate the fact that she’s hawking diet pills now. I cam across a forum today (the website is ironically called EmpowerHer), and all these women had discussed whether Jillian’s diet pills actually work.
Another thing: they call the diet pills “supplements” to make it sound like you’re just taking vitamins and fish oil instead of what you’re really taking, which is a glorified appetite suppressant.
A 14-year old girl who described herself as a little chubby, with love handles, was wondering if the diet pills were right for her. Seriously. It breaks my heart. Everyone is looking for an easy way out and no one is willing to use their brain, WORK HARD and eat sensibly. If anything, there should be a pill you can take that makes you realize diet pills are a crock of shit.
I’ve lost 8 lbs since I started running again and doing the yoga and body weight training and doing a better job of watching what I eat. But I DON’T take pills and I DON’T DIET.
Granted, I’ve never been that overweight so I don’t want to say I understand what some people are going through — which is another thing Jillian sort of lies about: she says she used to be really overweight but I read somewhere that she was like, 50 lbs overweight for a couple years during high school and lost all the weight before she turned 18. (But that could be lies too — don’t believe anything you read!)
It takes time to build momentum and start heading in the right direction. People get discouraged when they don’t see rapid results after a week or two, but that’s not what life is all about. It’s like expecting to run a marathon after your first three mile jog.
…
Oops.
You didn’t think you were going to get a lecture from me this morning, did you? Well, tough. I don’t think about what I’m going to write before I sit down.
I’m done being all health bloggy now. Tomorrow it’s back to running and beer, I promise.
I do hope you’re all having a fantastic day and thinking about me all the time.
Kisses!
“There is nothing to writing, you just sit in front of a typewriter and bleed.” – Ernest Hemingway
Ran about 3.25 in 35 minutes this morning and felt better than I have in a long time. I think it had little to do with me and everything to do with the weather– low 70s and only 70% humidity. GOOD TIMES.
Only downside to the morning runs (aside from the obvious) is that I’m a little wobbly on my hips and butt after I get to work. I stretch, then I sit at my desk and promptly stiffen up. Guess if that’s the worst thing I have to complain about, I’m doing pretty good.
I gripe and moan about stuff sometimes (okay a lot), but my gripes are mainly “first world” problems. Like, how am I going to find a place to run 14 miles while I’m on vacation in Germany? What if they stop selling my favorite pair of running shoes? What if I have to have surgery to fix my bunions? We should all be so lucky. Okay, really I just want all of you to know what it feels like to have bunions. It’s nothing personal…
So we got this gigantic melon in our co-op delivery last week and we were having some trouble finding ways to utilize it before it went bad on us. Most of the stuff arrives perfectly fresh and ripe, which is great, but we don’t have a lot of time to eat it all, especially the fruit. At which point I end up throwing everything into a big salad, vat of stew, or I wok up enough stir-fry to feed the entire People’s Liberation Army.
We cut the cranium off the melon and scarfed melon balls while I dumped the rest of it into an ubersalad with strawberries, blueberries, almonds, goat cheese, romaine, kale and spinach. I made a lemon vinaigrette I found online (I’d link it but they’re pretty much all the same: lemon, extra virgin, garlic/shallot, thyme, S&P, dijon, you get the idea.)
Since I already got the run spanked, I am free to do with my evening as I please…I’m thinking of taking a belt sander to my bunions.
Today’s my rest day, woo hoo. It just makes sense not to work out on Mondays, am I right? Sometimes I’ll do a yoga session or 20 minute Shred, but its nice knowing I don’t have to. Although…after what I ate/drank yesterday, I probably should do something.
We went to Scotty’s Brewhouse and ate our weight in nachos and dill chips. I had some fantastic BBQ quesadillas that were actually spicy. It was a nice treat since I’ve been starving myself back into my bikini body lately (kidding…sort of).
They have the world’s longest menu — it’s like 20 pages, and that doesn’t even include beer and cocktails.
The beer menu appears impressive at first glance, unless you’re me and you bypass all the pilsners, whites, hefeweizens, bocks, kolsches, lagers, wheats and ambers and head straight for the IPAs.
Scotty’s is seriously lacking in the IPA department. They have 28 beers on draft and only four of them are pale ales or IPAs: Bass Pale, Bell’s Two Hearted, New Belgium Ranger and Magic Hat #9.
Their bottled IPA/pales were DFH 60 Minute, Three Floyds Pride and Joy, Founder’s Centennial, Sierra Nevada and Upland Dragonfly.
Am I being picky? There just wasn’t anything I hadn’t tasted before that I really wanted to try. Is it too much to ask they offer a DIPA or imperial, or a stout that’s not Guinness?
I went for my old standby, Two Hearted. Never lets me down. The Mister had an Upland Wheat.
The service was great after one initial hiccup – we sat there for about 10 minutes before any server thought to ask if someone had helped us. Keep in mind it’s like 3:30 in the afternoon and the entire waitstaff is loitering around the hostess stand because the place is devoid of customers.
After that, they made up for it by getting our food and beer out quickly so our server got most of his 20% tip.
I’m not an a-hole. I’ve waited tables. I just don’t have any sympathy for servers standing around in the doldrums after the lunch rush acting like they didn’t know you were sitting there. (As a server, you learn to master the fine art of not making eye contact with the patrons.)
You want a quick 9 bucks? All you have to do is bring me a beer, dude.
Anyway – like I said, food is great, beer is pretty good, and the service wasn’t terrible.
Anyone catch Awesome Dawson being inducted into the Hall of Fame yesterday? We watched a little of it, but it went on (and on and on) from 1:30 – 5 p.m. and we finally got sick of listening to all the self-important blowhard announcers and broadcasters tell stories about how cool they used to be.
We did catch Fogerty playing “Centerfield” on his Slugger guitar…
If you don’t know anything about Andre Dawson, he got screwed by the Expos in his earlier years after the artificial turf in Olympic Stadium pretty much wrecked his knees. He had something like 11 surgeries and came to the Cubs as a free agent with a blank contract. He just said, “pay me whatever you want, I want to play for the Cubs.”
He became the Cubs’ starting right fielder, and hit 49 home runs and was named the league’s MVP (take that, Expos, you pricks!). He is one of six MLB players with at least 300 home runs and 300 stolen bases during his career. He always said he loved the soft grass at Wrigley Field.
We have a DVD of all the great Cubs games since the dawn of television, and one of them is Dawson’s Aug. 1, 1987 game — he went 3/4 with three HRs and five RBIs.
Hope you’re all having a great Monday morning — peace.
That’s the sound of me collapsing in a soggy pile on the floor after a ridiculously slow run this morning in debilitating heat.
I was actually able to wring out my sports bra when I was done with it.
Cat woke me up around 5:15. Stayed in bed until 6:00. Stumbled out the door around 6:30 — it was 78°, 82% humidity. So, pretty nice. Heh.
I did about 5.25 in 59 minutes, so an 11:15ish pace. Not too shabby, considering.
I’m starting to make peace with my slowness. It showed up uninvited and totally made a mess of things, but if it’s here to stay, we might as well try to find a way to coexist.
But I am not doing slowness’s dishes.
Good news is I think I’ve solved my not-being-able-to-eat-before-running problem.
TJs cookie with peanut butter chips, peanuts, and peanut butter. Small, compact, filled with protein and everything that is good and pure. One cookies = 60 calories. Perfect.
So that makes 17 miles for the week. I think that shows progress in spite of the slowness. I don’t know that I’m going to attempt any additional mileage next week; 17 feels safe.
We had the craziest hot weather last night– I think it went on record. That there is lightning from the heat:
I guess that’s not uncommon here, but I was amazed.
We made the most inappropriate dinner — shrimp fiesta soup in the dead of summer. But it’s what the hubs was craving and we had some mixed hot peppers from the jardin, so I said what the hell.
It’s the easiest thing in the world –
In a stock pot, saute:
onion
garlic
some diced hot peppers if you like-a the spice
Add this stuff:
chicken stock
can of Rotel tomatoes (I’m partial to the green chile)
1/3 cup of salsa
can of corn (drained)
couple pounds of cooked shrimp, peeled, no tails
Simmer (add shrimp about 10 mins before serving).
Garnish:
diced avocado
chopped cilantro
crushed tortilla chips
sliced lime
sliced green onion
shredded cheddar cheese
Do NOT skimp on the garnish. It’s all very necessary. Same with the wine.
Next order of business: got our co-op delivery last night.
Speaks for itself (I see a giant kale smoothie in my future).
Some friends are having a little summer get-together tonight and I have some fun beers to bring along:
Okay, obviously I’m not going drink ALL of those. I plan to share. Plus, dude who’s house we’re going to is a big beer geek too, so I know he’ll be well-stocked.
Be careful today — in fact, just stay the hell indoors. Safer that way.
Icknast. Ran 5.1 miles after work today and it was bloody disgusting. I just got a bug in me and had to run. I rationalized by telling myself I ran Wednesday morning, so Thursday afternoon is pretty much two whole days later…ish.
The plan (that you already know I didn’t stick to, hence the italics) was to do a mile warmup, 3 miles fastish, and a mile cool down.
I ended up finishing in 55 minutes. I had to walk. It felt wretched. But I took a cold shower and cracked open a cold beer (or as we say in Texas, “col’ beer”) and now I am okay.
Thank you for your concern.
There really is no sensible explanation for why I would run in 100 degree heat when I could simply wait two hours and run in 85 degree heat (yeah, because that’s a lot better).
After the fiver from hell, here’s what I did:
Harpoon Leviathan Imperial IPA (9.3% ABV/120 IBUs). Yeah, it’s got ME written all over it. Bottle says best by 10/15/09, for what it’s worth.
I tried it for the first time on tap at Patrick’s, and it is, obviously, better on draft, but I still liked it. It’s really smooth and light for the ABV.
Pathetically, it’s 10 p.m. and past my bedtime…hoping the next time you hear from me I’ll have an ecstatic account of how I totally murdered 8 miles at 6 a.m. Saturday morning.
Yeah so I didn’t run this morning. I sacrificed my Thursday 5-miler for a Wedenesday three. Plus, I went home and did Jillian’s NMTZ yesterday and my hips and bum are killing me this morning. But in a good way.
My good buddy MTAE, who is always willing to have a laugh at my expense, suggested I aim for about 15 miles this week, and I think that’s realistic. Since I’m going to attempt 8 on Saturday (might be more like 6!), my feelings aren’t too hurt that I didn’t run this morning. And honestly, sleeping in that extra hour was glooooorious.
Following is a review of the second most expensive beer (per ounce) I have ever purchased. If you read the comments section on my last post, you’ll know how much it cost. (And no, the beer had nothing to do with me not running this morning. I swear.)
Founder’s Devil Dancer Triple IPA. 112 IBUs, 12% ABV. Maybe because of the 12s, I was thinking it was going to be similar to Dogfish Head’s 120 Minute. Let me assure you they are nothing, NOTHING alike.
While both of them are incredibly boozy, DFH 120 is sweet and gritty. DD is smooth and bitter. Dark coppery red. BIG piney nose. No head, no carbonation whatsoever. Citrusy backend. Syrupy. Ends with a zing.
For the ABV, it’s drinkable as hell. I love it.
Happy Thursday, you adorable nimrods. Have a good one -
Last week: 10.5 miles
This week (if all goes according to plan): 19.75
So, I’m totally breaking the 10% rule, but since my pace can hardly be considered running, I can cheat a little, right?
And…today wasn’t supposed to be a running day, but I got up early and ran anyway; 3.03 in slow-mo. Felt good, if a little warmer and muggier than yesterday.
For those of you who run at the crack of dawn, do you eat first? And if so, how the hell do you do that?
I can’t even find it in me to put a cracker in my face that early in the morning. I ate a couple of fuel gummies today; sufficient for a 3 mile hardly-run, but what about when I start doing 10+? Here’s to hoping it’ll be cooler by then and I can start running in the evenings again, like a normal person.
I still can’t beliiiieve how slow I run. I was trying to figure out if there was any point in the run that I maybe blacked out or had to wait 10 minutes for a train to pass, but no such luck.
This afternoon: floor exercises galore, a la Jillian.
