My last post was about starting over, and in a way, so is this one.
Christmastime and New Year's focus so heavily on family and celebrations, at least in the U.S. (I think in some places, they're much more about partying -- but that's another story.) Yet there's another side to that coin. For many, the holidays seem to underscore our challenges, difficulties and loss. Faced with the prevalent images of the happy, perfect family with 2.3 kids, two cars in the garage and a golden turkey on the table, we're left to wonder why we don't fit that mold.
For those who are struggling with illness, either in themselves or in someone they love, it can be tough to maintain the holiday cheer. And for those coping with grief, it's a particularly difficult time.
Aside from turning to my faith, there's one thing I have actively done to deal with grief during the holidays this year. And that's running.
I'm not talking about a run done begrudgingly on a treadmill. Nope. Nothing but a run on the rocks, dirt and gravel of a trail will do. Despite feeling winded and stiff at first (see my previous post) I hit a rhythm and dodge boulder after boulder. It's like a game of Frogger as I tiptoe around a rock garden and avoid patches of deep slippery gravel. It's like this for miles.
When your brain is focusing on the here and now -- avoiding a fall and picking the fastest path in a split second -- you can't think about the loss that tears at you. You can't feel regret and fixate on emotional pain. It's just about you and the ground beneath you. You're in complete control in a world that can feel out of control; you determine when you start and when you finish. When you're finally done, you feel satisfied that you've taken a step toward healing and you've done something special for yourself that no one else can do.
The holidays may bring unique pain and heartache, as well as joy, to each of us. Shutting ourselves away is a natural way to cope...but if you're in this situation, maybe try a different approach for a while. Get outside amid the trees, in the mountains, on the sand or on the ocean. Take a deep breath and appreciate the beauty available to us completely free of charge.
Let's run!
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Starting over
Every so often, something happens that makes you appreciate how hard it is for people to start exercising.
Yeah, I know, I'm a diehard runner, so what gives?
The last week of 2011 is a time of starting over, and it's a reminder that it takes a lot of discipline and willingness to accept initial discomfort to get beyond your fitness barrier. At least it's working out that way for me.
I went through several weeks in December in which my physician asked me not to run for medical reasons. I wasn't injured, he just wanted me to shift to non-impact activities. I hit the elliptical trainer and the exercise bike, and even entered the pool (once, ugh). After a few weeks of this, let me assure you: None of this makes you as fit as running does.
This week my medical situation changed, and I began running again. Wow, it was hard! On the first day, it was difficult to even finish up my third mile. My heart rate soared. I was lucky to run a pace of 9:30/mile, which used to be my very easy jogging pace. And it just felt uncomfortable. This coming from a person who used to feel at her very happiest while running 8:30/mile on her long runs! While pleased that I was finally running again, I was also balancing feelings of humiliation and frustration. Who is this slow woman toddling along the street and trails?
All of these things must be magnified for people who have no background in running or fitness at all. When they take that first step and start huffing and puffing, it's painful, embarrassing, annoying and potentially defeating. But if any of my non-exercising friends are reading this, please know that it's all part of the package. If you want to get to the good stuff -- feeling great about yourself and your health -- you've got to go through the tough stuff first.
Keep at it. I will.
Yeah, I know, I'm a diehard runner, so what gives?
The last week of 2011 is a time of starting over, and it's a reminder that it takes a lot of discipline and willingness to accept initial discomfort to get beyond your fitness barrier. At least it's working out that way for me.
I went through several weeks in December in which my physician asked me not to run for medical reasons. I wasn't injured, he just wanted me to shift to non-impact activities. I hit the elliptical trainer and the exercise bike, and even entered the pool (once, ugh). After a few weeks of this, let me assure you: None of this makes you as fit as running does.
This week my medical situation changed, and I began running again. Wow, it was hard! On the first day, it was difficult to even finish up my third mile. My heart rate soared. I was lucky to run a pace of 9:30/mile, which used to be my very easy jogging pace. And it just felt uncomfortable. This coming from a person who used to feel at her very happiest while running 8:30/mile on her long runs! While pleased that I was finally running again, I was also balancing feelings of humiliation and frustration. Who is this slow woman toddling along the street and trails?
All of these things must be magnified for people who have no background in running or fitness at all. When they take that first step and start huffing and puffing, it's painful, embarrassing, annoying and potentially defeating. But if any of my non-exercising friends are reading this, please know that it's all part of the package. If you want to get to the good stuff -- feeling great about yourself and your health -- you've got to go through the tough stuff first.
Keep at it. I will.
Monday, July 4, 2011
I miss the fast
She raced past me with the intensity of a bride-to-be throwing herself into Filene's Basement. She was lean, sculpted, aerodynamic and determined.
She was me circa 2010.
---------
Yesterday I took my road bike out on an hour-long ride around the city, aiming just to get a cardio workout in before the temperature broke triple digits. I climbed into the foothills, my feet rhythmically pedaling little circles until I dropped down onto the streets that circle the Rose Bowl. One thing to know about the Rose Bowl: It is the church of exercise. Fat or thin, rich or poor, everyone goes to the Rose Bowl to run, ride, skate or, in some cases, jog backwards, dance or even run while lifting barbells. But that's another story.
I stopped my bike for a moment to adjust one of the cleats on my bike shoe when I heard a familiar sound.
Whap whap whap whap.
I looked up and a young woman I didn't recognize came around the turn, ever-so-slightly grimacing while running a blistering pace, her shoes lightly brushing the asphalt. She was beautiful. And she was running fast, faster than I've done in quite a while.
My stomach twisted for a moment. She was clearly a competitive road racer, and if I'd been standing there only a year earlier (with running shoes instead of hard bike shoes) I might have tried to run behind her just to see if she was running sub-7:00 pace. But it wasn't 2010, and I'm not the person I was in 2010, and it wasn't meant to be.
I'm generally quite happy taking my current hiatus from running hard. I get to run in the hills and on trails at a leisurely pace, and I'm only running 15 miles a week so I get to dedicate more time to my ever-increasing workload (yaaaay). More time with my husband, more time to play golf and work on the many projects at our home. But every so often, I get a little whiff of what it feels like to run fast. My muscles remember those days and experience some kind of unconscious nostalgia, if there is such a thing.
I miss the fast.
She was me circa 2010.
---------
Yesterday I took my road bike out on an hour-long ride around the city, aiming just to get a cardio workout in before the temperature broke triple digits. I climbed into the foothills, my feet rhythmically pedaling little circles until I dropped down onto the streets that circle the Rose Bowl. One thing to know about the Rose Bowl: It is the church of exercise. Fat or thin, rich or poor, everyone goes to the Rose Bowl to run, ride, skate or, in some cases, jog backwards, dance or even run while lifting barbells. But that's another story.
I stopped my bike for a moment to adjust one of the cleats on my bike shoe when I heard a familiar sound.
Whap whap whap whap.
I looked up and a young woman I didn't recognize came around the turn, ever-so-slightly grimacing while running a blistering pace, her shoes lightly brushing the asphalt. She was beautiful. And she was running fast, faster than I've done in quite a while.
My stomach twisted for a moment. She was clearly a competitive road racer, and if I'd been standing there only a year earlier (with running shoes instead of hard bike shoes) I might have tried to run behind her just to see if she was running sub-7:00 pace. But it wasn't 2010, and I'm not the person I was in 2010, and it wasn't meant to be.
I'm generally quite happy taking my current hiatus from running hard. I get to run in the hills and on trails at a leisurely pace, and I'm only running 15 miles a week so I get to dedicate more time to my ever-increasing workload (yaaaay). More time with my husband, more time to play golf and work on the many projects at our home. But every so often, I get a little whiff of what it feels like to run fast. My muscles remember those days and experience some kind of unconscious nostalgia, if there is such a thing.
I miss the fast.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Meat over flames = holiday
For better or worse, Americans transform holidays. In the U.S., preparation for All Saints' Day or the day of the dead has become Halloween, a celebration of candy and parents' desire to outdo each other on elaborate kiddie costumes. Thanksgiving is more about feasting than it is about giving thanks. And Christmas? I'm not even going there.
But I can really get behind one particular holiday evolution: the 4th of July. Here's why.
As Americans wave the flag and talk about the revolution (or not) what we really have come to celebrate over this wonderful weekend is the grilling of meats or, for our vegetarian friends, tofurky. To me, an Argentinean-American, this is truly a joyous time. Nothing takes me back to my childhood like the smell of charcoal (no lighter fluid, por Dios!!!), short ribs and crispy-skinned chicken drenched in lemon juice, parsley and salt and pepper. For me, it is a time to unite over all that is good in the world: We have the right to toss our beef, chicken, fish, mushrooms and whatever else we choose on the grill however we like. Our forefathers fought for these freedoms!*
* Actually, mine didn't ... as far as I can tell, only two of my relatives were in the military -- one in the Italian army during WWI, and the other in the Argentine navy during the Malvinas -- and the experience didn't really go so well for either.
Anyway, I'm trotting out the Weber today to grill up a 4.5-pound leg of lamb, what we call cordero. In Argentina it's traditional to splay out a lamb over an open flame, but since we don't really have a giant firepit available on our tiny patio, I'm opting for a slowly cooked leg using the indirect cooking method. That means bringin' out the char-baskets!
But I can really get behind one particular holiday evolution: the 4th of July. Here's why.
As Americans wave the flag and talk about the revolution (or not) what we really have come to celebrate over this wonderful weekend is the grilling of meats or, for our vegetarian friends, tofurky. To me, an Argentinean-American, this is truly a joyous time. Nothing takes me back to my childhood like the smell of charcoal (no lighter fluid, por Dios!!!), short ribs and crispy-skinned chicken drenched in lemon juice, parsley and salt and pepper. For me, it is a time to unite over all that is good in the world: We have the right to toss our beef, chicken, fish, mushrooms and whatever else we choose on the grill however we like. Our forefathers fought for these freedoms!*
* Actually, mine didn't ... as far as I can tell, only two of my relatives were in the military -- one in the Italian army during WWI, and the other in the Argentine navy during the Malvinas -- and the experience didn't really go so well for either.
Anyway, I'm trotting out the Weber today to grill up a 4.5-pound leg of lamb, what we call cordero. In Argentina it's traditional to splay out a lamb over an open flame, but since we don't really have a giant firepit available on our tiny patio, I'm opting for a slowly cooked leg using the indirect cooking method. That means bringin' out the char-baskets!
The lamb is currently marinating in the fridge in some of my favorite ingredients -- olive oil, lemon juice, oregano and rosemary. I can almost taste it already.
I love America! Long live the barbecue!
Saturday, June 4, 2011
What to do with an entire flat of strawberries
For a few months I've been trying to significantly cut down on the amount of processed foods I eat.
Out: cookies, sugary breakfast cereals, snacks, etc.
In: fruit and vegetables in season, eggs, whole milk, Greek yogurt, steel-cut and old-fashioned oatmeal, fresh fish, beef, lamb and chicken.
As a result, I'm eating more fruit than ever before, which brings me to the topic at hand. Last week I stopped by the farmers market near closing time, and I picked up the most amazing strawberries. I got a VERY fresh whole flat of strawberries for $10. Yes, $10!
But as I piled them into the fridge, I realized: Oh my goodness. I have an entire flat of strawberries. That's six baskets. What to do? Well, a flat of strawberries goes a very long way.
The tally so far:
I had never had a strawberry fool before, but I happened upon a recipe in the latest issue of Bon Appetit magazine. It focused one of its sections on strawberries, since they're in season. I cut the original recipe in half, but here is what I did:
Out: cookies, sugary breakfast cereals, snacks, etc.
In: fruit and vegetables in season, eggs, whole milk, Greek yogurt, steel-cut and old-fashioned oatmeal, fresh fish, beef, lamb and chicken.
As a result, I'm eating more fruit than ever before, which brings me to the topic at hand. Last week I stopped by the farmers market near closing time, and I picked up the most amazing strawberries. I got a VERY fresh whole flat of strawberries for $10. Yes, $10!
But as I piled them into the fridge, I realized: Oh my goodness. I have an entire flat of strawberries. That's six baskets. What to do? Well, a flat of strawberries goes a very long way.
The tally so far:
- Sliced and mixed into six servings of steel-cut or old-fashioned oatmeal, blended with plain yogurt, honey, cinnamon and walnuts
- Four strawberry hand pies made in my Breville pie maker
- Twelve ounces of strawberry/blackberry/cherry preserves made in our bread machine
- And the latest: four "strawberry fools"
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1 cup chopped strawberries
1/2 tbsp sugar + 1 tsp sugar
A dash of vanilla
3/8 cup strawberry preserves (the ones I made the day before)
3 lady fingers
You mix 1/2 tbsp of sugar with the chopped up strawberries and let them sit for a while. While they're getting juicy, you toss the vanilla and 1 tsp sugar into the whipping cream and then whip it up. Then fold the preserves into the whipped cream. Then dump the chopped strawberries into the whipped cream and mix gently.
Carefully spoon the cream-berry mix into four ramekins and then crumble the lady fingers on top of the cream. You can top them off with a fresh strawberry for a nice, bright touch.
Anyway, at the end of all of this, I still have two baskets of strawberries left! Fortunately the strawberries keep well in the fridge if you leave them in their baskets and wrap them in plastic vegetable bags, cutting holes in the plastic bags so air can get in and so that water doesn't condense on the plastic. Water is the enemy of any sort of berries.
I'm still looking for additional strawberry recipes, so if you have any favorites, please share.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Regression with a purpose
Everybody likes to get better at whatever they're into. Whether it's your ability to play the tuba or to water ski, improvement in your skills generally leads to a happier, more satisfied you. So how do you cope when you have to purposely let your skills, knowledge or fitness slide?
That's the question I'm dealing with, as I've dramatically cut back on my running within the last three weeks. I've gone from training for a marathon (about 35-40 miles a week, including a 17-to-20-mile long run on Sundays) down to less than 15 miles of running a week, and at a much lower intensity. I've also reduced my cycling.
No, I'm not injured. I'm just trying to get my hormone levels back to a more normal place. But enough of that... the gist is that I'm doing very short runs at a more leisurely pace (lower heart rate). What's the big deal?
Well, the funny thing about training is that the less you do it, the slower you get -- and the harder it is to accomplish, physically. Today, I ran six miles about a minute per mile slower than I ordinarily would, and I felt tired. And emotionally, it just stinks to see some guy run right past you, looking very fit indeed while you feel like a snail.
In fact, that's a big part of the challenge. Not only are you getting slower as you get detrained, but you face a visceral sort of angst. It's almost grief.
"I used to be fast. Now I just waddle. I'm one of those people who waddle! Oh no!"
"I could be faster if I were training to be faster. But I'm choosing to be slow right now."
"It's ok, really. Running is not my priority right now. Other things are more important. Really. They are."
It's all about affirmations. Yes, it is.
That's the question I'm dealing with, as I've dramatically cut back on my running within the last three weeks. I've gone from training for a marathon (about 35-40 miles a week, including a 17-to-20-mile long run on Sundays) down to less than 15 miles of running a week, and at a much lower intensity. I've also reduced my cycling.
No, I'm not injured. I'm just trying to get my hormone levels back to a more normal place. But enough of that... the gist is that I'm doing very short runs at a more leisurely pace (lower heart rate). What's the big deal?
Well, the funny thing about training is that the less you do it, the slower you get -- and the harder it is to accomplish, physically. Today, I ran six miles about a minute per mile slower than I ordinarily would, and I felt tired. And emotionally, it just stinks to see some guy run right past you, looking very fit indeed while you feel like a snail.
In fact, that's a big part of the challenge. Not only are you getting slower as you get detrained, but you face a visceral sort of angst. It's almost grief.
"I used to be fast. Now I just waddle. I'm one of those people who waddle! Oh no!"
"I could be faster if I were training to be faster. But I'm choosing to be slow right now."
"It's ok, really. Running is not my priority right now. Other things are more important. Really. They are."
It's all about affirmations. Yes, it is.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Race days are strange days
Tomorrow I'll be running the Surf City Half Marathon for what I think will be the seventh time. I'm not sure if it's out of self-protection, or just my generally busy state, but I haven't given much thought to this race. Well, not until now, anyway.
Some of my most memorable moments have been associated with this race. Back when it used to be the Pacific Shoreline Half, this was only my second half-marathon, and it was a struggle. I remember having no idea whatsoever how to pace myself for such a "long" race. I finished in 1:53something, and after crossing the finish line, a bad case of hypothermia pushed me to seek warmth in a running club teammate's truck. No number of Mexican blankets were enough to fight it. My hands shook so hard that I spilled hot chocolate all over myself, and my skin wasn't sure if it was icy cold or burning hot. It took a whole day for my teeth to stop chattering.
The second year I did it, I ran stronger but then picked up a chest cold at a Super Bowl party I attended later that day. It became walking pneumonia and ruined my subsequent racing season.
Then came the highest of the highs: On a race day when it was cold, rainy and windy, I killed my best time by three minutes and finished in 1:46 and change. That stood as my PR until the Long Beach Half Marathon the next year when I ran a 1:45. I'd never in my adult life felt so strong as a runner. And since I'd run the race five years in a row, I qualified as a Longboard Legacy Club runner, earning me a special T-shirt. We runners are so easy to please and hook in with these little loyalty perks!
Ah but lows often follow highs. In 2009, as I was just starting my training in January for the Boston Marathon, I broke my pinkie toe by smashing it into an ottoman in my living room. Training during the next few months consisted of me gently slipping into the 24 Hour Fitness pool with a Styrofoam doohickey strapped around my waist and "running" in the water for 30-60 minutes at a time. I walked around with a special boot to keep my foot from flexing. There was no way I was going to limp for 13 miles just to keep my Longboard Legacy Club membership going. 2009 was a "did not start, did not finish" year.
Which brings me to 2010. This is tough to talk about, but it certainly puts running in perspective. I had initially been hoping to PR at Surf City in 2010 (and had signed up for it and everything), but two months before, we had a surprise: I was pregnant. I seriously curtailed my training and pretty much jogged for a while. Unfortunately, as is so often the case, things didn't work out. Yet I ran the race easy anyway, even though I was seriously de-trained. I finished in 1:55. The saving grace was that I paced my friend to his fastest-ever time (and probably what will continue to be his fastest-ever time!)
Now February has circled back around and I'm not quite sure what to make of tomorrow. I'm supposed to run 20 miles for my marathon training plan, rather than a fast 13 miles, so I feel a bit conflicted. And my training really only began about a month ago, so I don't anticipate a PR. I think it may just be a day when I hope to feel good, have fun and exorcise the demons of the last few years.
Only one way to find out.
 |
| 2011 medals |
Some of my most memorable moments have been associated with this race. Back when it used to be the Pacific Shoreline Half, this was only my second half-marathon, and it was a struggle. I remember having no idea whatsoever how to pace myself for such a "long" race. I finished in 1:53something, and after crossing the finish line, a bad case of hypothermia pushed me to seek warmth in a running club teammate's truck. No number of Mexican blankets were enough to fight it. My hands shook so hard that I spilled hot chocolate all over myself, and my skin wasn't sure if it was icy cold or burning hot. It took a whole day for my teeth to stop chattering.
The second year I did it, I ran stronger but then picked up a chest cold at a Super Bowl party I attended later that day. It became walking pneumonia and ruined my subsequent racing season.
Then came the highest of the highs: On a race day when it was cold, rainy and windy, I killed my best time by three minutes and finished in 1:46 and change. That stood as my PR until the Long Beach Half Marathon the next year when I ran a 1:45. I'd never in my adult life felt so strong as a runner. And since I'd run the race five years in a row, I qualified as a Longboard Legacy Club runner, earning me a special T-shirt. We runners are so easy to please and hook in with these little loyalty perks!
Ah but lows often follow highs. In 2009, as I was just starting my training in January for the Boston Marathon, I broke my pinkie toe by smashing it into an ottoman in my living room. Training during the next few months consisted of me gently slipping into the 24 Hour Fitness pool with a Styrofoam doohickey strapped around my waist and "running" in the water for 30-60 minutes at a time. I walked around with a special boot to keep my foot from flexing. There was no way I was going to limp for 13 miles just to keep my Longboard Legacy Club membership going. 2009 was a "did not start, did not finish" year.
 |
| last year's logo |
Now February has circled back around and I'm not quite sure what to make of tomorrow. I'm supposed to run 20 miles for my marathon training plan, rather than a fast 13 miles, so I feel a bit conflicted. And my training really only began about a month ago, so I don't anticipate a PR. I think it may just be a day when I hope to feel good, have fun and exorcise the demons of the last few years.
Only one way to find out.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Yoga - good or bad? Discuss.
My brain works a mile a minute. At any one time I'm thinking about a project at work, the food I'm cooking for dinner and the rest of the week, and, oh yeah, the fact I haven't yet made the bed. It's tough to let the mind be still, which is probably why I like running so much. There's something that seems to happen chemically that slows the mental gears down, at least during the time I'm doing it.
Another tool for quieting the brain is yoga, which I recently picked up again after a hiatus. During yoga you focus attention on your breath as you go through specific poses. Focusing on each inhale and exhale keeps you from thinking about other stuff (or at least it does until those dinner thoughts sneak back into your head and you shoo them out again.)
The problems often begin with the attempts to properly do various poses. As a runner, I experience tightness in my quads, hamstrings and calves while having extremely flexible hips. Inevitably, I end up with strains and even tendinitis from yoga class. And I go to a gentle yoga class!
This past Saturday, I ended up with ankle twinges because of some lunges we were doing. Previously, I mashed my hip on several occasions. The funny thing is that I haven't had a real running injury in years; yet I'm repeatedly inflicting pain on myself with yoga. Why? And should I continue? Or should I just switch to meditation instead? For now, I'm going to continue, but if I get one more serious problem, I may just spend class in "child's pose" or just curl up in a fetal position and count sheep.
Another tool for quieting the brain is yoga, which I recently picked up again after a hiatus. During yoga you focus attention on your breath as you go through specific poses. Focusing on each inhale and exhale keeps you from thinking about other stuff (or at least it does until those dinner thoughts sneak back into your head and you shoo them out again.)
The problems often begin with the attempts to properly do various poses. As a runner, I experience tightness in my quads, hamstrings and calves while having extremely flexible hips. Inevitably, I end up with strains and even tendinitis from yoga class. And I go to a gentle yoga class!
This past Saturday, I ended up with ankle twinges because of some lunges we were doing. Previously, I mashed my hip on several occasions. The funny thing is that I haven't had a real running injury in years; yet I'm repeatedly inflicting pain on myself with yoga. Why? And should I continue? Or should I just switch to meditation instead? For now, I'm going to continue, but if I get one more serious problem, I may just spend class in "child's pose" or just curl up in a fetal position and count sheep.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Greatest thing ever - the personal pie machine
My tiny kitchen was the site of a culinary electrical storm last weekend. At one time, I had all of these gadgets chugging along:
If you've never seen one, here it is.
It changes piemaking from a chore to kitchen fun. You basically buy pre-made pastry dough (at least I do ... if I weren't fully employed, maybe I'd make it myself, but seriously...they sell this stuff) and cut it into circles for the tops and bottoms of the pies. Then you either use a recipe from the book they provide or you ad lib to create your own pie fillings. Each pie contains about 1/3 cup of filling.
So far I've made beef and mushroom, chicken and leek, chicken/onion/asparagus/turnip green, Italian (imagine pizza toppings in a pie) and burrito (think Mexican burrito fillings inside a pie). Oh, and on my husband's suggestion, we even had a curry chicken/potato pie. Much to my surprise that was absolutely delicious.
During this same time period, I've been trying to gain some weight, and maybe not coincidentally, I've gone up by about a pound and a half. Coincidence? You be the judge. All I know is that I've found a kitchen helper that's brought piping-hot deliciousness into my household, and I am pleased.
I'll post the recipe for my next pie creation the next time I make them.
- My Zojirushi bread machine
- Presto waffle maker
- Cuisinart coffee maker
- CrockPot slow cooker
If you've never seen one, here it is.
It changes piemaking from a chore to kitchen fun. You basically buy pre-made pastry dough (at least I do ... if I weren't fully employed, maybe I'd make it myself, but seriously...they sell this stuff) and cut it into circles for the tops and bottoms of the pies. Then you either use a recipe from the book they provide or you ad lib to create your own pie fillings. Each pie contains about 1/3 cup of filling.
So far I've made beef and mushroom, chicken and leek, chicken/onion/asparagus/turnip green, Italian (imagine pizza toppings in a pie) and burrito (think Mexican burrito fillings inside a pie). Oh, and on my husband's suggestion, we even had a curry chicken/potato pie. Much to my surprise that was absolutely delicious.
During this same time period, I've been trying to gain some weight, and maybe not coincidentally, I've gone up by about a pound and a half. Coincidence? You be the judge. All I know is that I've found a kitchen helper that's brought piping-hot deliciousness into my household, and I am pleased.
I'll post the recipe for my next pie creation the next time I make them.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Introductions
I've been asked before why I don't blog. I mean, I'm a writer/editor, so I write for a living -- so why don't I have my own virtual soapbox?
I guess I've just felt like I don't have that much to say. Either that or I don't want to give it away for free. Well, probably the former.
In any event, it doesn't matter, because I've given in. Within the postings that will follow, I'll detail the daily doings and musings that go through the head of a long-distance runner, frazzled editor and cooking devotee. Hopefully you'll enjoy some of the recipes and running stories coming your way, and hopefully I don't blow up our kitchen.
A sneak peak at the coming days:
Hasta la pasta,
Lici
I guess I've just felt like I don't have that much to say. Either that or I don't want to give it away for free. Well, probably the former.
In any event, it doesn't matter, because I've given in. Within the postings that will follow, I'll detail the daily doings and musings that go through the head of a long-distance runner, frazzled editor and cooking devotee. Hopefully you'll enjoy some of the recipes and running stories coming your way, and hopefully I don't blow up our kitchen.
A sneak peak at the coming days:
- Fun with the best gizmo ever: the personal pie machine (see below)
- A year ago in my running life - what a difference
- Yoga - good or bad? Discuss
Hasta la pasta,
Lici
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