Summer and Balance

During the school year, it's easy for me to forget that I should have balance.  I end up reading a lot, putting off tasks until the last minute then rushing through them, sleeping not enough, running too much or not enough, eating and drinking too much, doing too much, never stopping.

It is, quite frankly, exhausting.  And every year, at the end of the semester, I crash.

I would much rather have some sort of balance, where I don't feel so exhausted all the time that I just stumble home and plop in front of the TV, stuff whatever is within arm's reach into my face, eating until I'm so full I can hardly move, then either feeling miserable or running to make up for it. Or feeling so overworked that I go out to blow off some steam and end up drinking too much and feeling miserable the whole next day.

This lack of balance seems to be what I need to work on.  And the summer, when living is slower and I have fewer burdens, seems just right for that.

I went to yoga tonight for the first time in a long time, and it was wonderful.  It was familiar and hard and relaxing and challenging.  I haven't been to yoga so long, partly because I've been busy, partly because I claim I'm tired, though those are somewhat just excuses.  I think I sometimes avoid going to yoga because I'm afraid...afraid of feeling not like a yogi, of being not good enough, of failing, yet again, to do the poses with any sort of acumen or grace.  K, my awesome teacher and friend, always reminds me to let that stuff go, and I usually can in the class.  I leave, feeling calm and balanced, happy that I went.

But then I forget and don't go the next week, never quite solving the self-doubting cycle.

In yoga tonight, I was given a visualization of an expansive sky, which took me back to my favorite sky out west, in Montana.  That sky there is so blue and perfect, and it never seems to end.  Then I was asked to pull that expansiveness into myself...and when I did, I sat there, feeling a little stunned and emotional.  To envision the inside of myself as big as that wonderful sky...and as beautiful and amazing...was something that surprised me because I so often feel little. Less. To think of myself as something more was a shift in my perspective.

And so, I think in my quest for balance in my life, I'll keep on going to yoga.

I know I've been doing a lot of belly-button gazing lately, but this blog has become sorta therapeutic and has allowed me to engage in face-to-face conversations with friends who deal (or have dealt) with a lot of similar or related issues, allowing us to talk about things that we're often told to keep quiet about.  I'm starting to see how I have a supportive community around me to share myself with--not just my fun side, but all of me.  And that feels like an all-around Good Thing.

Breakfast Baskets!

The end of the semester usually signals a return to all things domestic, at least for a week or two: lots of cooking, lots of cleaning, not to mention all the organizing and other chores that go on.

This weekend, we went to L's parents' house, which meant I could not give in to my domestic urges.  Add in that I've been reading cooking memoirs (and thinking about them) for my RSA paper means that I wanted to cook and cook a lot.  I stumbled across this recipe for Spinach and Sweet Potato Egg Nests on a blog that my running buddy (and amazing lady!) has been sharing on her site, so I decided they would be breakfast.

I did not, however, want to make TWELVE of them (what if I didn't like them?? Plus, that's all my eggs!!), so I set about making two with some modifications.

They turned out fabulously, served with some fruits, coffee, and a corn tortilla from the tiny tortilleria in L's hometown.  I've decided that one part of balancing meals is actually one the French know well (and L's mother reminded me of): more than one dish, lots of color and variety, make it look pretty so that it's a feast for both the eyes and the stomach.  And only eat little bits of each dish, eating until satisfied but not overly full.

I think I succeeded on all counts.

Sweet Potato and Spinach Egg Baskets
adapted slightly from paleOMG

• 1/3 of a sweet potato, peeled and grated
• 1/2 jalapeno, seeded and diced
• 1/4 onion, diced
• oil or bacon fat (I had a bit lying around, and although I cannot eat bacon, I seem to be able to stomach a small amount of bacon fat)
• handfuls of baby spinach (or frozen, thawed and squozen)
• 2 eggs
• Salt/pepper/etc
• 2 Pyrex ramekins/tiny bowls

If you want, spray the ramekins with some non-stick spray--I didn't, and mine didn't really stick, so it's probably okay.

Preheat oven (toaster oven in our case!) to 375 degrees.  Grate sweet potato and divide evenly between ramekins, smooshing up the sides and making a well in the center.  Sprinkle with salt/pepper, if desired.  Put into oven to bake for 15 minutes or so to cook the sweet potato.

Meanwhile, heat oil in a pan and saute onion and jalapeno until soft. Toss in a couple of big handfuls of spinach (or some previously frozen) and cook until the spinach is wilted.  Salt lightly.

Once the sweet potato looks like it's getting softened, divide the spinach/onion/pepper mixture in half and plop into each cup, making a bit of a well again.  Crack an egg on top and place back into the oven until cooked to your eggy delight.  (My yolk was a bit runny, just the way I like it.)

Serve with a bit of sriracha or salsa, and enjoy!

A Quiet Life

Around noon on Saturday (after I'd sufficiently slept to feel a bit better), we departed for L's hometown to visit his parents.  L's hometown is a quiet, sleepy kinda place, and life there is slower.  And when I need a break from all the hectic, frenetic pace of school-job-social life-running, fueled by beer and caffeine, this is just the right place.

I didn't realize how much I just needed to take a break from the world, from the constant connectedness of being able to log in and check email and Facebook and all the other forms of communication I own.  Today I've returned to regularly checking everything, but Saturday and yesterday, I kept a reasonably low profile (at least compared to normal).

I woke up yesterday morning, wide awake and alert at 6:45.  I'd had enough sleep and I felt eager to be up and cooking and running.  I finished up my grading at a leisurely place, the stress of finishing evaporated as if I'd set it out in the late spring sunshine on the broad porch at L's parents' log house.  I ran 6 miles, then ran a few more later.  I read books in long draughts, savoring and enjoying.

Even better, I feel my body coming into balance.  While I don't eat scantily here, away from excessive amounts of beer or wine or gin, away from eating out, I eat enough.  We ate fish and grilled vegetables, muffins and fruit, venison and salad and L's recipe-less homemade bread, a light sandwich and popcorn.  I don't until I'm stuffed but merely satisfied, and I eat more slowly, at the table, taking my pace from L's mother who is a champion at slow eating.

We walk and we talk. We nap and we read.

Waiting around this afternoon and not wanting to read anymore, I slipped into my running shoes and out the door, no pressure to run but wanting to feel the pavement under my feet.  I fall into a good pace, a rhythm that doesn't anger my quad or ankle, and I run, watching the little rabbits and the goats and other animals observing me.  I encounter few cars that carefully drive around me.  I run without music, just the sound of my feet on the little country road, the sun high in the sky, and the world green all around me.  I run with joy and contentment, and when my watch beeps 2, I pause to stretch, then turn back.  I arrive hot and dripping, but happy.

I plan to pack a bit of this peacefulness, this slower pace, and bring it back home with me where I can keep practicing running for the love of it, eating for sustenance and enjoyment, and not forgetting the hidden pleasures of a quieter life.

'Cause I Got (Runner's) High

I just finished up with a 6 mile run in the early summer heat, and I was happy.  Not because my leg is acting better, my ankle is allowing me to do slightly longer runs, and because the semester is done...or the fact that  I got to spend the morning with myself, sipping coffee and reading MFK Fisher at my in-laws' peaceful house--no, it was the running itself.

L can kind of understand why I love running so much, though he detests it.  While I can get him to run about twice a year or so, he will only go short distances and gets really crabby at the very end.  I, on the other hand, will go long distances and be very, very happy at the end.  When I don't run, I sink into a bit of a mild funk, like cheese that's not quite right anymore.  My mood is subdued, my energy low, my patience easily tested. A few days of running, and I'm back to my old self.

It turns out that it's because I'm getting high on running.  NPR's Christopher Joyce reported on a new study out that argues we humans might be "wired to run"--the chemicals that make me all happy with life when I run regularly helped humans evolve into distance runners.  One runner (and doctor) Joyce interviewed commented about the runner's high:

But when I ask her about "runner's high," she lights up. "Oh, it's really like an empowerment. And zen at the same time. You feel strong and light, and you feel relaxed."

Morganti injured herself running two years ago and had to stop running. "And everything else fell apart," she admits. "My ability to cope with the stresses of life, my organizational skills juggling your job and motherhood, everything like that, wasn't as acute as it was when I was able to run and be fit.

"I'm actually a little bit tired," she says. "I have a hamstring injury; I'm starting to feel that a little bit now. But I'm feeling like, 'What a beautiful day. How nice to be out here,' and I don't care about that."

That's actually a problem — her not caring. Morganti treats runners for injuries, and she says they're the worst patients. "The treatment is to stop running," she says. "They won't. They don't want to. A lot of the behavior is not unlike the patients we have who are seeking drugs. It's really similar. It's an addiction."
 

It's really pretty amazing.  I don't always notice it right after running, but I do notice a huge difference between when I'm running regularly and when I'm not.  L does too, and occasionally will gently nudge me to go for a run, though with all my running buddies, I don't seem to need it too often anymore.

Why doesn't someone like L enjoy running, then? My theory is that he associates running with negative things from a younger age, where running for me was PURE JOY when I was a child and young adult.  I loved feeling like I was flying as I dashed around excitedly, and even the horrible PE tests where they made you run (I wasn't really in good shape back them) a mile didn't stick with me.  I was thrilled one year when I managed to do a sub-10 minute mile.  I should have known then that running was my thing, though it took me another 5 years to really own it.

Of course, I don't think everyone should run or anything--do what you like, if it's active.  Swimming, sports, walking, biking, yoga: all great activities to do.  But if you find yourself getting curious about why we runners do nutty things like get up at 4:45 on a random Wednesday morning to run 5 miles (or 6am on a Saturday to run 12 miles), remember that it's the brain chemicals and my desire to have mental stability at all times.

Facing the Fear

As I was finishing up my final paper for my ethnography of communication class (I studied my running group!) I wanted to track down an article Peter Sagal wrote for his Road Scholar column in Runner's World.  I stumbled across an older column instead, called "A Thin Line," which really struck home for me. Basically Sagal accounts how he bounced up and down, always obsessed with weight, which he remarks is "far, far more common than you might suppose among amateur athletes."  I could totally relate to his experience (though I usually bounce up and down 5-10 lbs, not 30 or more).

It was when I read the following, though, that I really stopped and thought:

It's not about being fat. I know people of all shapes whose sense of self is blessedly untethered from their weight. It's about the terror of what we might become if we allow ourselves to let go, to get weak, to slow down. I run now for a lot of reasons, for fitness and for times and for friendship and for the sheer pleasure of motion. But deep inside I know I'm also running because with every step, I'm leaving Plumpkin further behind. And I'm afraid if I ever stopped, he'd catch me, and consume me in his unending appetite, and I'd have to look back into the mirror from behind his frightened eyes.

The terror Sagal describes, I've also felt--what might I become if I stop running? Stop watching my weight? Stop going on a diet every so often, determined to "finally" get to my goal weight and size?  I go back and forth between not caring and deciding that drinking with my friends and eating delicious food is better than some imaginary goal number (as long as I'm a healthy weight, right?) to really, really wanting to be more fit and toned and feel good in my body.  I might have fun eating and drinking without thought of the consequences...but then I wake up the next morning and my body rejects my excesses and I feel terrible, my body unhappy with how I've treated it.

And I still fear the reemergence of that heavy girl, the one so shy and so insecure in herself that she constantly held herself back from living life, from talking to interesting people, from doing things in the world.  Seeing the "frightened eyes" in the mirror that Sagal describes.

I too run for more than just weight management.  I ran 4 miles today with relatively little pain, and I felt amazing.  I followed it up with a lovely, healthy meal, and I felt fantastic.  I'm working through all these little issues with the hopes that maybe one day, I can be "blessedly untethered" from my weight.  To give my body what it needs and to enjoy food without worrying about what others think, that I'm eating too much, that I'm going to put all the weight back on and have to, once again, swear that I'm going to eat better and run more.

I'm starting to realize that becoming healthier is not just about eating right and exercising--I can do that.  It's dealing with all this emotional baggage, my fears and worries, that is the hard part, the part I've refused to deal with more publicly until recently.  I know some of my readers might get tired of hearing about this stuff, but I hope you'll bear with me (and I plan to post lots of other interesting things) as I use this writing space to come to terms with it all...

And, on a happier note, it's almost summertime! :)

Vampires and Phonology

I hear Southerners complaining all the time about Southern accents on television; while I don’t have much of a Southern accent, I have been around it for long enough to have a good feel for what makes a good one and what makes a really, really bad one.  Southerners are constantly amused by television’s attempts to represent their dialect.  They either exaggerate or lump all the features together, or they characterize the person as a backwoods hick.

Then there are TV shows that are supposedly set in the South, but there’s nary a [pɪn] for [pɛn] to be found.

Welcome to Mystic Falls, Virginia, the fictional town setting of The Vampire Diaries.  For those of you who don’t watch trashy TV, the basic premise is your typical, century-old vampire from the Civil War Era falls in love with teenage mortal, who happens to look exactly like the vampire that he was in love with when he was human.  Thrilling stuff, I assure you, but I’ll keep the summaries to a minimum from here on out.

When I began watching the show, I noticed how the actors manipulate their language and accents to underscore shifts in time periods (as with all good shows, there are lots of flashbacks) and to convey the “oldness” of particular vampires.  Initially, it seemed simple, but after re-watching the episodes armed with my newfound understanding of phonology, I began to pick up on some interesting trends.

First of all, there is a distinct lack of Southern accents.  This seems unusual if you think about it: all of the characters are descended from old families who founded the town pre-Civil War; one main character (a vampire) fought for the Confederacy; it would appear on the surface that they should all identify themselves as Southerners who would have strong social motivations to have some markers of a Southern dialect.   Antebellum culture is a source of pride for many of the characters, with various town celebrations occurring in Civil War-era costume and celebrating events from that time period.  According to Rick Aschman’s dialect map, Virginia residents should have the pin/pen merger. Yet the actors and actresses use unmarked, “General American” English.

When the show begins providing back stories for some of the characters, including flashbacks to 1490, things start to get interesting, especially from a phonological perspective.  The earliest place we find Katarina (later Katherine) is in Bulgaria in 1490, so she speaks…Bulgarian.  This choice seems logical if you know that Nina Dobrev, the actress who plays both Katherine (the vampire) and Elena (Katherine’s teenaged human doppelganger and show’s heroine—see isn’t this show intriguing?) is Bulgarian and speaks French, English, and Bulgarian fluently.  Katherine’s family name is Petrova, and instead of using the Anglicized [pɛtɹo͡ʊvə], she says [pətɾɔvʌ]; all of the vowels are a little bit more back than in the Anglicized pronunciation, and the /ɹ/ is a flap (which sounds almost like a trill).  Whenever Elena (played by the same actress) says “Petrova,” she uses the Anglicized version.  This distinction would seem to indicate that the show consciously manipulates phonetics for certain effects, at least on fairly minor levels.

In the story line, Katarina leaves Bulgaria for England and “becomes English,” which (somewhat hilariously) means adopting a horrifically fake British accent.  And if there’s a British accent in a show for an American audience, it’s most likely to be an RP British accent, which is what all of the actors from these scenes use.  Historical linguistics may be amused and/or annoyed when this pops up because it is not the dialect in use in the late 15^th century, but it is the dialect perceived by American teenagers as “old” and “British.”  All of the actors employing RP pronunciation drop /ɹ/ between a vowel and a consonant and in word-final positions.  Nina Dobrev’s accent is so bad because this feature and the pronunciation of vowels is exaggerated a bit too much; it’s recognizable as British, but if you’re paying attention and listen to the other native-RP speakers in the same scene, you hear how affected it is.

Interestingly, there is a character, Elijah, who exists in the 1492 timeline and the present, and his language patterns shift depending on which time period he is in.  1492 Elijah speaks with a “stronger” RP accent (dropped /ɹ/, vowels); however, in the present, he speaks with a “weaker” British accent—/ɹ/ is used, and his pronunciation is closer to “General American,” though with some distinctions that give his speech a vaguely British feel.  (As it turns out, he’s from Canada, but lived in New Zealand for much of his young life.) For instance, he says, “I believe the term you’re searching for is OMG,” and he pronounces the /u/ a bit lower than an American might, and his /ɹ/ in “term” sounds a bit more deliberate.

The show also flashes back to the 1864, Civil-War era Mystic Falls, and the language patterns shift to match.  Initially, I struggled to pick out distinctive phonological features of this time period, but then I realized that there were none; the actors simply used archaic phrasings that we hear as “more proper.”  For example, the actors used the following phrases that stood out to me as archaic or formal: “I wish” or “For a short while,” “Until tomorrow,” “You must hurry,” “I shall go too,” and “It will get the best of you,” avoiding the contraction “I’ll.”  Otherwise, fairly standard “General American.”

Only one character had any phonological markers of a genteel Southerner; George Lockwood, member of one of the founding families, tended to drop /ɹ/ medially and in word final positions, such as [cɑnvɛsa͡iʃn] for “conversation” and [ji͡ə] for “year.”  His character existed in the 1864 timeline, however, and was subtle enough to not be overwhelming. (He’s also a werewolf[i], just so you know).

Finally, I was able to identify one character in the episodes I watched that had a few phonological features of the Southern dialect.  Two witches (yes, there are witches, and unfortunately, for some reason on this show all the witches are black) moved to Mystic Falls, supposedly from Louisiana: Luka and his father.  Luka displays a few subtle variations that are characteristic of a Southern dialect; for example, he says “here” not as [hiɹ] but as [hi͡ə], dropping the final /ɹ/.  He also has the characteristic pin/pen merger (saying [bɪnɛt] instead of [bɛnɛt]), though it doesn’t seem consistent.  His father, however, showed none of those features in his speech, so it seems likely that the actor who plays Luka has some of these features in his native dialect.

So while it seems that, in an attempt to appeal to a mainstream audience, the show’s producers avoid using Southern dialects for their supposedly Southern characters, they do seem to manipulate accents and language use.  These uses convey shifting timelines, reinforce the “oldness” of some of the vampire characters, and add an intriguing dimension to what might be dismissed as trashy TV.  Although some of the features I picked up on are unlikely to be consciously written into the show, the fact that the same actors/characters use different ways of speaking demonstrates that much of it is deliberate.  And perhaps we should be grateful they refrain from using the Southern dialect since so many shows fail miserably when they try.

---

[i] One character pronounced “werewolf” as [wɛɹwʊf], which piqued my interest, but he had nothing else too interesting going on.

Heavy Past

When I was young, I was a spindly girl along with my four brothers, all legs and arms: my mother likes to tell a story where someone saw the five of us all together, looked at her accusingly, and asked, "Do you feed those children?"  (She did, of course).  At some point before puberty, I got a little chubby, but as soon as I got a growth spurt, I was a normal, slender teenager.

I  honestly don't really remember this phase except that I was shy and wanted to hide my body and dressed in out-dated clothes.  I only know that there was a period of time in my teenaged life that I didn't really think about my size, and I didn't want anyone to notice me.  I wore huge, baggy t-shirts and oversized sweaters and avoided anything fitted, though a friend was able to talk me into wearing some trendy, tighter clothes a couple of times.

I must have started to put on weight before I worked at a fast food chain, but I don't really remember.  I do know that working there when I turned 16 was the start of my weight gain; by the time I graduated high school, I was a size 14.

Several memories have surfaced as I was thinking about my weight struggles: one, a memory where my dad, frustrated, called me lazy when I refused to do some chores, and I went and wrote angrily in my diary about how I was fat and how much life sucked (ah, teenage angst).  There are quite a few entries like that.

Two: I frequently went to the doctor when I was 16 until I graduated high school because I had horrible, recurring ear infections.  There was the WORST NURSE in the entire world who worked in that office who tried to tell me to use ear candles to get rid of the infection and was generally annoying and neither nice nor good at her job.  She was taking down my information (weight, BP, etc), looks up at me and says, "Don't you think you need to lose some weight, dear?" I felt the tears well up, and my mother was upset.  Weight was somewhat of a taboo subject in our house, so I never heard anything from my parents about being concerned about my weight--my mother had endured too many taunts as a teenager and could not bear that I would suffer the same injuries.  I knew I didn't look like the girls around me, but I didn't think a lot about it.

Three: I had saved up money my junior year and bought a beautiful dress (which, unfortunately as it turns out, was not well-suited to my pear shaped body).  I wore it several times, including for graduation.  Someone asked me what size I was, and when I told them, they commented, "Huh, I thought you were bigger than that, especially in that dress."  I was stung.

There are more memories about generally being unsatisfied, not feeling like I was pretty, and longing to be like the other, thinner girls I associated with.  For me, though, the turning point came my sophomore year of college, where (after putting on a freshman 20 or so), I went to the gym and got on the scale, and saw the number: 200.

I didn't really know what I was doing at the time, but I knew I had to do something--I could not continue to go up in weight.  At this point, I was a size 18.  I found a Denise Austin show on one of the TV channels we had in the dorm; I recorded it an did it a couple of times a week. I began to read more about health and nutrition.  I think I lost a bit of weight; mostly, it was a relief not to gain more.  The real breakthrough came that summer, however, when I traveled to Mexico for six weeks: I was sick for the first part, didn't eat a whole lot during meals, and walked all over the place.  I returned to the states around 10 pounds thinner and fitting into my abandoned size 14 jeans.  I was happy, and my mother and many others remarked at the difference in appearance.

The next school year, I managed to maintain this size and began dabbling with running (but had shin splints and other woes).  Toward the end of the year, one of my friends had lost quite a bit of weight with Weight Watchers, and she offered to share her materials with me and several other girls who were moving into the same house that summer.  I began following the plan...and was shocked by how many "points" I ate on an average day, mainly on snacking.

I followed the plan religiously, tracking my points daily in a little notebook, putting stickers on all my food with their points values.  I also began running with another couple of friends, one who was also trying to lose weight.  Watching him run a mile around the track one day, I was inspired--I wanted to run a full mile, without stopping.  It was hard, but I knew I wanted to do it, so my friend A and I kept running until we both could.  The day I ran a full mile without stopping was amazing--and I immediately wanted to run more.  A and I would continue to run 2 or so miles several times a week.

By the end of the summer, I was around 155 pounds and in a size 10.  I was running more and eating healthier, making good choices.  I walked around campus a lot.  I stopped following the plan precisely, but continued to lose weight.  People who hadn't seen me all summer were shocked; one brother exclaimed, "Where'd Jenn go?!?" I liked the attention.  Better yet, I liked that I could run--it made me feel as though I was capable and powerful.  When I ran, I felt free and graceful, so different from my normal existence.  I continued to run from then on, and started playing sports, including Ultimate Frisbee and intramural sports.  From that summer in 2003 on, I would never be the same Jenn, and she was someone I was happy to leave behind.

Reflecting on that past Jenn, though, I realize she wasn't so bad.  She was shy, held back by her own insecurity, but she was the path that led me to where I am today, and I wouldn't be myself without her, without the memories of that awkwardness and youth and hope and desire.  I hope by sharing this story, it can connect with others of you readers who have shed someone, left some version behind.  Or who perhaps hope to find some other version of themselves.  I know that I'm moving toward some future Jenn, who I hope (regardless of my size or physical fitness) is wiser, smarter, and continues to strive to be kind to herself and others.

Running and Eating (Too Much)

When I was training for the marathon, I could eat almost anything.  It was awesome.  I would eat and eat and eat and not gain a pound because I was running so much.

But then, I stopped running as much, yet I continued to eat the same or more.  Then the series of injuries caused me to reduce my running even more.  And now I'm seeing the effects.  I've put on about 10 pounds since the start of the year, and I don't like it.

So, I'm going to shift my attention to yoga+strength training and eating non-processed foods.  The last time I only ate non-processed stuff, I felt amazing--I had so much energy, I slept better, and I lost weight without really trying.  This time, I'll have to try a bit more.

I normally feel really awkward announcing to the world that I'm going on a diet, so I refuse to call it a diet.  I want to think of it as a shift in focus.  For now, I want to avoid (but not 100% eliminate) processed sugar, refined grains, and other foods that tend to be lower nutrients, and also the things I like to eat a bit too much of.  I'll try not to blog too much about it, but just concentrate on gaining a healthier, stronger me.

9 years ago, I was almost 200 pounds, out-of-shape, and didn't think I could run or do much.  I wasn't really unhappy because of my weight, but I think I used it to hide a bit, and I definitely always felt self-conscious.  As I began to drop the pounds and run more and more, I found that I liked my new body and the confidence I found, and I swore I'd never go back.  Getting on the scale this morning and seeing the number continue to creep up takes me back to that old girl from 9 years ago.

Instead of feeling unhappy or helpless, or feeling like I'm worth less somehow because of my higher weight, I'm doing something about it.  I refuse to go back to a place where my happiness rests on my appearance; at the same time, I know it's best for my health if I am more careful about what I eat and I exercise regularly.  Running makes me happy, and I want to keep running for as long as I'm able.  And talking about it with people helps me take control and deal with the issues in a better way, than stuffing it down and eating some more ice cream (which I tend to do).

Anyway, that's my plan. Eat less, move more, do more stuff.  Have fun with friends, but make it less about the food we eat and about the fun we have.  Enjoy the summer by swimming and biking and running and using the extra time I have to go to yoga and build my strength and try something new.

I'm running a half-marathon with my brother in a little over a month, so hopefully I'm over all these injuries soon so that I can start training--until then, light running, biking, and swimming (and yes, K, much more yoga).

Fridays Around Here

I have a real problem with working on Friday afternoons, especially sunny spring ones.  But I promised those kids that I would give them back their papers this afternoon, and I've already lied to them about having them finished by Thursday*.

So, I sat in my office at home and worked until 8pm.  Now I'm waiting for our dinner guests to arrive. L sweetly cleaned the whole house when I rejected his requests for help cleaning with an imperious wave and a "I must GRADE!"

BUT, I finished it.  I even got to get out a bit when a friend offered to replace the beer that L consumed that I really, really wanted.

Now to have a bit of fun and relax, until tomorrow anyway...

(PS: The wrist and ankle are recovering nicely, FYI.)

*There was burning and ankle twisting involved.

Baking Disasters

It all began when I twisted my ankle.

Twisted ankle meant a bit of pain and the need to RICE. Which meant I stayed home instead of going out to volunteer with Girls on the Run.  Which meant that I decided to bake something for the dinner tomorrow with my friends, since I could throw something in the oven really quickly and not worry about it tomorrow.

Okay, so it's not exactly fair to blame the TERRIBLE MISHAP upon a silly twisted ankle (which seems to be feeling better, but it might just be that the overriding pain of my wrist is...well, I'm getting ahead of myself).  Anyway, usually if one crazy thing happens to me, it probably means I should watch out.*

All right, I hear you: on with the story. So I decided to make a tart.  It was going to be delicious.  The crust would be gluten free and made of almonds and butter, the filling a luscious lemony goodness.  Thinly sliced lemons macerated in sugar on a bed of toasty almonds.  Delight!

Mishap #1: I was following a paleo recipe that called for nuts, butter, salt, and baking soda.  Not thinking about the filling, I put all that together and put it in the oven to bake a bit.  Then I dumped the lemon filling on it, with all the sugar and juices.  Now, what happens if you mix baking soda and lemon juice? If you guessed it, you'll now imagine foamy almond crust, some of it dripping onto the oven floor.

Well, it'll probably still taste good, Lance and I commented to each other.  I'll top it with tons of whipped cream and no one will notice how ugly it is, I added.

Mishap #2: time to take the tart out of the oven.  So I grab it without first setting out a cooling rack.

And here's with the TERRIBLEness happened:

Mishap #3: I shift the tart to one hand, meaning that the middle was on my hand and the ring was suddenly supported.  The searing pain in my wrist quickly alerted me to my major mistake, leading to

Mishap #4: In which the excruciating pain of metal and hot sugary liquid burning into my wrist causes me to throw down the tart, scream obscenity, and run away.  Lance makes me come back and put my wrist under cold, running waters, after I've removed my watch and flung it away.

We look back at the tart, which came through someone whole, though slightly mangled.  So we ate a bit of it.  It was actually not bad, despite how awful it looks and much pain it caused me.

*And today is 13+13, right? (the 26th?) Though it's not a Friday, so I'm not sure if that matters.

How it goes

You get up in the morning, find some breakfast, drink some coffee, go to work, come home and do it all again.  It sounds depressing, but basically, there's been so little exciting going on in my life that I haven't felt the urge to post.  Though, I did make some awesome cupcakes...

Anyway, it's nearing the end of the semester. I'm gearing up to start reading this summer to start COMPS. Oh my! (That's pretty exciting).  I picked my concentrations--Rhetoric of science, language, pedagogy--and two of my three advisory members.  So my education is moving along well.

This summer, it'll be time to get stuff out for publication. I have several things up my sleeve that I need to put out there. I find the whole publication thing a bit nerve-wracking, but I know I can do it.

On the running front, I did something to my quad (not sure what, but I figured out how to make it stop hurting), and then I twisted my ankle this morning on my first 3 mile run in a few weeks. Argh! Luckily, I think the ankle will be fine if I baby it for the rest of the day.

Well, back to the coffee, then to get ready for work...

I Ran How Far?

Us, Lance, and our GIANT MEDALS

26.2 miles.  TWENTY-SIX POINT TWO MILES.  The enormity of what I did, set out to do, accomplished still overwhelms me.  Even as I sit here, mostly recovered from my exhaustion and extreme pain, I still find it hard to believe that I ran TWENTY SIX* miles.

 I had emerged that morning from slumber before my alarm with the creeping anxiety that I had forgotten to set the alarm for the appropriate time, feeling the squeeze of nervous energy in my stomach.  I was in that period of wakefulness where you know you should get up and check the alarm (or get another blanket or pee or get a drink of water), yet just can't muster the ambition to get out of bed.

I finally sighed and stood up, realizing that it was just a few moments before my alarm, and that I had in fact set it properly, so I laid back down until it chimed.  I leapt up, grabbing my clothes and drinking water immediately--I knew I needed to hydrate my sleep thirsty body as quickly as I could.  I poked Lance, my driver and support crew, to wake him up to get ready.  My nerves calmed somewhat as I ate, packed up my gels, pinned on my racebib, and got into the car to head downtown to the Little Rock Rivermarket, where the race would begin.

It was a lovely March day, clear and chilly, a day where the sky is perfect cerulean without a cloud in sight.  I had on a long-sleeved shirt and L's brown fleece to warm my chilled body.  I searched for my friends that I had trained with all winter, finally abandoning L with his fleece to go find them.  I managed to fight through the crowd to stand next to them.  Suddenly, being beside the two women I had trained with, run the longest long runs, who had commiserated with me over injuries and weariness, I found myself calm and eager.  This was just like another training run, right?

Lance taking my photo while riding

We took off, and I felt good.  The plan was to hang back with the 4:10 pace group, then take off to hit the goal of 4 hours.  The runners were thick; weaving through the crowds was difficult for the first part.  We ran and chatted and looked out for L on his bike and other spectators that we knew.  My body grew warm as I ran, feeling strong and fast, and I ditched my long-sleeved shirt with a friend's family member.  As we continued for a few miles, I had to force myself to stay slow, but I finally couldn't take it anymore--as we neared the governor's mansion and waved hello to Governor Beebe, I took off, maintaining a good clip for the next twelve miles.

I felt amazing: the weather was beautiful, the spectators cheering me on and calling me out by name.  I had on fun socks (along with my fellow two runners), so I was recognizeable; one spectator saw me a second time and enthusiastically shouted out my name.  I soaked up the energy, the Gatorade, the energy gels, the slices of orange and chunks of banana, and I ran.

I ran.

And ran.

I ran beside an interesting woman named Kari from Tulsa who was running her fifth+ marathon for the joy of it--she had no goal in mind.  I had caught up with her after mile 15 when she snagged a beer from the Michelob guy.  We chatted for the next couple of miles, and she egged me on a bit, commenting about how well I was running for my very first.

L continued to catch up with me. I was cheerful and happy; I begged chapstick and sunscreen from him, and it was nice to break the monotony.  Honestly, though, I was so much in the zone that I barely registered the passing miles--it really wasn't until mile 20 that I started to feel the toll the mileage was taking on my body.  But even then, I ran strong, reducing my total average pace from 9:24 to 9:06 by that point.  Around mile 22, I spotted the ladies on the other side of the long out-and-back section, I screamed at them and they screamed at me, cheering me on, and I got an extra burst of energy.

When I hit mile 24, I was growing tired.  L was beside me for the most part, encouraging me.  I was tired and ready to be finished but still running strong.  Just before the finish, I had to tell him that I needed to be in my own head for the last quarter mile, but his presence was indispensable throughout the race.  He was sweet enough to be support crew to my two friends who were a bit behind me, biking back and forth to encourage them.

Finally, the finish line loomed.  I picked up my pace, finishing strong, punching my watch. It read 4:00--but was that my finishing time? I found myself suddenly unable to walk properly where I had just been running a moment before.  They handed me the massive finishers medal in all it's shiny, massive glory, but my mind was too fogged to fully appreciate it yet.

Shortly, however, it clicked.  I went and got my results--4:00:28! I had really hit my A goal! I could hardly believe it!  I found my friends and L and we relaxed, took photos, and drank chocolate milk and ate snacks and shared our experiences.  I was euphoric and eager to run another marathon.

I had heard that a marathon can be a life-changing experience, and for me, in that instant, it was.  I finished the project to completion.  I ran hard and fast and LOVED it.  I'm eager to run some shorter distances and not have to train so long and hard, but it was all worth it.  And now I can check that off the list.


But even today, I still find it a little surreal.  Did I really run that far?  And kick ass while doing it?  I certainly have the medal and sore muscles to prove it.

*All caps VERY necessary.

Knowing When to Stop

A couple of weeks ago, I ran out the door to take advantage of the lovely day and get a 5 mile run in.  Everything felt great...at first.  My Achilles tendons have been feeling a little sore, so I didn't think much about it when my leg started twinging a little.

But then it started aching a lot.  I kept stopping to stretch, which helped temporarily, but by the time I got to my 2.5 mile turnaround, it was hurting. I got home and tried to roll it, which was pretty agonizing. After a bit of research, I found that I may have strained/torn my calf muscle.

Despite being in the middle of marathon training, I decided to just rest until it felt better. This is wise; everything I read said that a little rehab is better than continuing to run on it. So I got an ace bandage, some compression socks, and when it felt better, did a few short runs.

And, all better.  Part of the delight of this training is that I'm learning to listen to my body more, to trust that it'll tell me when something is wrong or when it needs something.  And it needed a little break.

A little over a week until marathon-time--I'm excited and scared all at the same time.  We ran our 22 a few weeks ago, now it's been taper time.  I've been working on my nutrition (listening to my body again!), so I have a lot of energy and feel good.  Almost there!

The beginning

In the beginning of every semester, there's an opportunity to get it all right, or to start off on the wrong foot.  Last semester, I began on the wrong foot: I was behind on the very first day and I scrambled to get caught up.  Needless to say, I was stressed all semester, and my teaching and schoolwork suffered.

Fast forward through a rejuvenating month of winter break and a semester with a bit of a lighter load.  Week two, and this semester is amazing.  I'm on top of things for teaching, I'm keeping up with all my schoolwork AND I'm beginning to work on my comps readings.  I can't believe how much different this semester is from the fall, but I'm grateful.  Even my students seem more attentive and eager to participate.  I only had one student missing total out of both of my sections this semester, which never happened in the fall.

My goals for the semester are to stay on top of all my projects and read lots.  But even better: I hope to get some of my research out there and actually submit something for publication.  Maybe a few somethings.  I've got some work done that's not bad, and I think it'd be really good if I started participating in a vital part of being a scholarship: communicating my research to other people.

Besides school, I'm also training for the Little Rock Marathon and trying to keep myself healthy, though a hopefully mild calf strain is causing me some issues currently.  No matter--I'm taking a couple of rest days and eager to get back to it as soon as it's healed up. 2012 is going to be an excellent year.

Archies: 2011 Was a Year to Remember

Donna has posted her annual Archies (a list of her world's top things), which sparked me to do the same.  After all, 2011 was pretty epic.  It began with my first solo teaching gig and a wedding and finished with a pretty decent bang.  So here are my own Archies, in no particular order (except for the first):

1. Getting married. Our wedding was pretty awesome, after all.
2. Snowpocalypse 2011: Also known as the year we got married after one snowstorm and slightly before an even bigger snow storm that involved a really, really chilly night.
3. My first semester teaching.
4. PR for the half marathon: 1:56!
5. Two new nieces.
6. The return to the US of my Marine brother--just in time for the end of 2011
7. New Balance Minimus
8. This Kesha video--so bizarre.  Why are there unicorns? Why is Van der Beek wearing a bra?
9. A trip to Montana during the Arkansas heat wave.
10.  The National Writing Project Summer Institute
11. Swiss Buttercream
12. So much running--thanks to my running group!
13. Heckling at Twilight: Breaking Dawn
14. Sculpt class and yoga at Millennium Life Center
15. 100 push up challenge (and the ability to now do a "real" push up).
16. Storage units
17. CCCC
18. Wedding showers.
19. Bachelorette party
20. Dancing. (More dancing will happen in 2012)
21. Pinterest
22. Blood, Bones, and Butter--one of the best books I read this year.
23. Learning to make my own jewelry
24. HDMI cable
25. PR for a 5k: 24:30
26. PR for a 10k: 49:05
27. Getting accepted to RSA
28. Modern Family, Glee, and Mad Men
29. Designing and teaching a course
30. Nearing the end of coursework
31. Noodles (Ramen, soba, etc)
32. Pumpkin (or banana!) paleo pancakes
33. The Hunger Games
34. All the friends with their babies (there are so many!)

There are likely some more, but these are the ones that came to my mind off the top of my head, so enjoy!  I love list making--this Archie list-making is enjoyable and allows me to reflect on the year. :)

Day One of 2012

I began the day by sleeping in.  Already a win.

Then I read a book.  I'm on a YA fiction kick, so I've been reading Eon by Alison Goodman (preceded by the first two books of The Hunger Games trilogy and the second book in an interesting series by Alie Conde called Crossed--the first was Matched.)  It's the first of two books, so I'll probably start Eona tomorrow.

After I read for a while, I decided that I really needed to get going on my long run.  Usually I do long runs with my running group, but I wasn't feeling very good yesterday morning, so I skipped.  Which meant I had to do it alone. Or did I? Instead of solo, I asked Lance if wanted to bike with me while I ran.  We ended up both getting a lot of exercise, Lance didn't hate exercising with me, and I didn't feel lonely.  (He didn't ride beside me the whole time--just came and talked to me to break up the monotony and help me open my gels when my fingers grew too cold).  And I ran 18 miles!  I'm feeling more and more confident in my ability to do the marathon in March.

When we got home, Lance made dinner (noodles! yum!), and I took a long shower. We then ate dinner, drank wine, shared chocolate, and watched a disc of Modern Family, which we are both enjoying.

Looking at it, it seems like a boring start to 2012, but I think it sets a good trend: spending time with people I love, eating tasty food, running, reading a good book, and watching a good TV show. What's not to love?

a lovely sunday meal

a lovely sunday dinner, after a long run

solitary meals are often seen as lonely

but me, here, with this explosion of flavor

not too lonely and just right

Normally, Sunday is Potluck Night, but I wasn't feeling much up for it. The mountains of work and the other social events made me just want to burrow at home with Crystal's English as a Global Language, a beer, and a warm bowl of something delicious.  This meal was simple, easy, and satisfying--all a girl home alone could ask for.  Soba noodles cooked in broth with cubed tofu, sauteed beet greens, a hard-boiled egg, and homemade kimchi. Flavor and texture abound.

My month of unprocessed is nearing its end: while I failed to maintain it for the full month, I learned a lot from the experience that I hope to carry into my everyday life.  1.) My body has strange reactions to sugar/highly processed things 2.) A little treat is great maybe once a week.  I might try to aim for that as a goal, perhaps a weekend muffin from my favorite bakery or somesuch.  3.) Simple food is great, homemade food is awesome, but at this point in the semester, it's hard to make a priority.  It turns out that when I'm stressed and short of sleep my body screams SUGARCARBSCHOCOLATE.  I don't much care for that.

Tonight, though: a delightful bowl of soup for an autumnal day.

Oops

I was doing so well with the no-processed.  Then came Fall Break, where I slipped a little.  Then I found myself slipping a little more, and it was no good.  Suddenly the blog posts dropped off as well, so I'm making a valiant effort to get back on track and finish out the challenge, extending it into November and Thanksgiving.

It started with me making some "healthy" muffins.  I ate one and felt terrible--even the small amount of sugars hit my system hard.  But it also triggered my cravings for it, and so I struggled to get back on track, slipping a bit more.

My body really hates sugar, though, and I spent the week feeling tired and draggy, and I'm pretty sure the processed food I was eating was giving me headaches (mostly sweets/baked goods).  Good motivation to get back on the unprocessed challenge, right?

It's hard to make such a huge lifestyle change and not expect to slip, especially when I'm surrounded by food at school and other bombardments.  Instead of pretending like the challenge was so easy, I thought I'd  share my oops moments and how I decided to keep working on eating unprocessed foods for the remainder of the month.  It's totally worth it when I feel so energetic and great, especially compared to right now.

This time of the semester is usually when I struggle with eating right and not just giving in to the sugar craze around me.  I know I work better though when I'm not in a sugar-induced haze.  Here's to getting back up and trying again!

Sweat It Out

In a recent issue of Runner's World, Marc Parent discusses sweating in his "Newbie Chronicles" column.  When he described how he would sweat in many situations that one might not deem sweat-worthy, I totally empathized.  Sweat when nervous? Check. Sweat when moving slightly faster? Check.  Sweat even when it's cold out?  Yep.  I'm not Sister Elizabeth Dunderstock bad, but when I exercise, I definitely sweat a LOT.

Yesterday, I decided to hop over to the HPER for a quick workout before my night class (especially since I missed my beloved Starbucks Wednesday morning run because of rain).  There were only three of us, so she decided to kick our butts with circuits.  After the first one, I was drenched.

I don't usually get embarrassed when I sweat, but glancing at the others in the class, I was the only one who seemed to be dripping all over my equipment.  I felt a little bad, but then kept working out.

It's weird, but I don't feel like I sweat excessively when I run, but maybe that's because I'm usually outside. I like working out outside--it's fun and it's not usually enough to make me want to puke.

Because by the of the class, not only did I look like I got caught in an downpour, but I felt dizzy and weak. I don't normally feel dizzy and weak, even when pushing myself, and I didn't much care for it.  I'm not certain what happened--after cooling down, I then went for a 20 minute run and felt better.  Running is my magic pill, apparently.

I'm sore as all get out today, though, so I know I need to attend those classes more often--I'm trying hard to actually build up strength and keep it.  Do you all ever feel like you just sweat crazy amounts, even when not working out?

Oh, the Stress...

This is that stressful time of the semester.  You know, the one where you're curled in a ball with a stack of books and the pot of coffee beside you, which you drink out of straight because a mug is too much to get between you and the caffeine that you need to maintain basic functions.  The time of the year where you have THIS much to do and >this< much time, and so you start skimping on things like sleeping. Eating. Spending time with loved ones. Going to the gym.  Showering.

Yep, it's the middle of the semester.  Despite how much I try to prevent it from happening, I reach a point in the semester where I get completely overwhelmed.  Coupled with some other stressful occurrences (which hopefully are just tiny misunderstandings that the STRESS made me blow out of proportion), I'm a bit of a mess right now.

But then there was the Fall Break.  We get a Fall Break this year, and I'm gladdened and joyful to know that it's just OVER THERE.  All I have to do is make it a couple of more days, and it'll be in my hand and then I can sleep and catch up and maybe even get a little ahead, as long as I don't collapse into a big pile, leaving a residue of coffee behind.

This is usually the time of the year where I eat and eat and eat.  I give up on my attempts to restrict sugar or stop eating pastries or whatever, and I just go for it.  I usually gain 5 pounds, which is enough to set me back on the path of healthy eating again.  I hate it, but it generally happens like clockwork.

Except for this year.  The month of no processed food has meant that I have been avoiding going where people will offer me delicious things full of sugar and delight.  And the more I've been doing it (11 days and counting!) the more I want to keep on.  Because while I am stressed, I'm feeling generally alert.  Sharper. Perhaps it's wishful thinking and I'm really all slow and say really dumb things, but I feel more on the ball lately.  I've been exercising more regularly than normal too, so that seems to be contributing.

Can I keep this up?  I sure hope so.  It's been one less stressful factor that I usually have to worry about--the not-fun feeling of having to squeeze a slightly larger self into clothes is something I'm glad to leave behind.

Weight Loss, Grad School Style

How to lose weight in several easy steps:

1. Enroll in a graduate program, then teach two classes while taking three. Basically, you won't have time to eat or think about eating (or money to afford expensive eating).  Generally, you might be scarfing down an apple and cheese while running to class, especially if you...
2. Decide to do an unprocessed challenge, where you stop eating and processed/refined foods.  And you attempt to eat your way through a giant box of baby greens on a weekly basis.  Despite the fact that you are eating avocados and large quantities of almond butter and not really counting calories, you will still find yourself losing weight.  This coupled with...
3. The incorporation of some physical activity, like running or biking or yoga, will mean that you'll build up muscles.  Muscles use more energy.

This is probably the weirdest diet I've tried, and perhaps the most effective, but I think it hinges on #2, otherwise I'd be scarfing down scones and junk food as I run to class instead of chowing down on lettuce, carrots, other vegetables and all manner of fruits.   And let's not forget the almond butter.

Joking aside, I feel fantastic eating no processed stuff and eating a lot more vegetables.  Lots of energy and not a strong desire for massive amounts of coffee in the afternoon, where I usually hit a slump and get really tired.  I'm thinking that this might be a more permanent lifestyle change (with exceptions here and there, like once in a while on a weekend or something).  I'll have to decide how sustainable this is for the long term--but thus far, it seems very doable, since I've found quick and easy unprocessed meals (it usually involves throwing stuff on a bed of lettuce).

Home Again, Home Again

After an interesting brunch-meeting and a visit with some pals (and to retrieve my husband), we headed back north after a quick stop at Whole Foods.  I bought a giant pumpkin, which I'll be roasting tomorrow to freeze and eat.  Yum.

Not much to report on the unprocessed challenge front.  I thought breakfast would be easy today, but it turns out that fresh fruit is not part of a normal conference breakfast...we were offered bacon, eggs, biscuits, gravy.  I made a breakfast of eggs and half a biscuit (which I know counts as processed).  My processed food count was as minimal as I could make it, but this morning I just couldn't bear to only eat eggs and coffee (I really was expecting more options, so I did not come prepared), hence the biscuit.  Overall, though, for a weekend out of town, I did very well--I usually return feeling overfull and like my body is completely out of whack.  Not this time!

Upon returning home, I worked on homework, made some more banana oatmeal bars, watched a bit of TV and did some push-ups.  I've been neglecting my strength training, so I'm trying to work a bit back in.  Gotta keep those guns looking good!

I had a great weekend: I got to spend time with friends not seen for far too long, play with small kids (which always reminds me that I love kids but don't want to have to deal with my own right now), present my work, have excellent, intellectual conversations, and escape for a little bit from the pressures of school, of my students, and of the normal daily stuff in general.  Back to the grindstone tomorrow!

Eating Out

As you might imagine, eating out (and traveling) while not eating processed food can be difficult.  I've avoided it thus far, but part of the conference was a dinner out at a nice restaurant.  Since I like to socialize (and think it's important to do at a conference) I went, knowing I could at least find something.

I probably ended up eating something processed, but I tried my best to avoid the main culprits: breads, pastas, and dessert.  The hardest part is just not knowing what they could be putting in/on what might be completely innocent foods, so I probably won't be eating out at all for the rest of this month.  I had a nice piece of fish and some vegetables, and some soup, which was all very tasty, though a bit rich.

I eyed the brownie/ice cream they brought out, but I just called to mind how horrible I'd feel because I knew I couldn't eat just one bite.  I think deprivation is a really bad idea (and a way of mistreating the body and delicious food), so I focused on knowing that I wasn't depriving myself--I was actively making the decision to say no now with the knowledge that I was ultimately treating my body better for it.  It was surprisingly not difficult; instead of thinking so much about food, I focused on having AWESOME conversations with my fellow dining companions.

Which is exactly why I opted to not be completely strict tonight and make do with the best options I had.

Day 6: Travelin' Time

Tonight, I write from not my bed and not my home because I'm a'traveling!  I'm down at my alma mater, presenting at an academic conference and spending a little time with a few of my peeps in the area.  I gave my paper tonight about revision strategies--I thought it went pretty well and is definitely a project that I could develop more.  (Best of all, I got in an academic spat with one of the other folks on the panel, but more about that later).

I was a little worried about my ability to maintain my unprocessed eating ways, but I packed acceptable foodstuffs from home, and I ran by the grocery store to pick up veggies and yogurt, whipping up a quick salad for dinner with avocado, butternut squash, carrots, and Greek yogurt. Pretty delicious and so very easy!  After my quick bite, I headed to a mixer, where I drank a little red wine but shunned the various snacks (which were all extremely processed).  I only kind of wanted it, so points for me!

Okay, back to the academic spat.  I probably shouldn't go into too much detail, but I felt that one of the presenters gave a talk based on bad scholarship.  I didn't really want to confront the presenter about it, but when others seemed to not see the major flaw, I had to say something.  The assumptions and the claims were so baseless and completely drawn from very little data that I am flabbergasted that this person even functions in academia and is listened to.  Given that the individual rolled eyes during my talk and made snide comments about the work I'm doing in my science writing class, I took a bit of pleasure in pointing out the flaws.  In fact, I probably would have kept going except that the moderator diverted the attention to me, where the presenter than sulked off.  I look forward to seeing this person at future conferences and continuing to publicly point out the flaws in the so-called research.  (The person actually cited Google as a source.  Seriously?)

Anyway, off to bed--I have another paper to read in the morning!

Day 5: Different Already?

I really didn't know what to expect physically from eating unprocessed.  Now that I've been in the true swing of things for a few days, I'm starting to notice things about my body.  Apparently, it turns out that even the reasonable (or at least so I thought) amount of processed foods in my diet was enough to possibly affect how I felt.

As someone who reacts to too much sugar (or too much of several other things), I know what it's like to feel bad because of food.  But with processed foods, I find that if you feel tired, you might reach for something processed, which perks you up for a bit before making you feel super tired again.  It's a vicious cycle.

Today is my long day at school--I'm on campus from 9am to 9pm, teaching and learning and working (not to mention that I get up before 5am to go run).  I packed my unprocessed lunch and dinner and snacks, and I noticed that while I felt the desire for my Wednesday afternoon caffeine jolt, I didn't really need it.  And I never really felt sluggish like I normally do in the afternoon, and I felt really alert in class.

Could this all be because of not eating any junk on Wednesdays, like I tend to?  I certainly feel better overall; lighter and cleaner.  I'm not completely willing to dismiss that it could be psychosomatic, but I have a feeling that it is a real difference, even if it has only been a couple of days.  One clue: a dress I bought this weekend was a bit looser in the midriff, and although I feel like I'm eating plenty, I seem to be losing weight because I'm also not as hungry and can't exactly reach for something when I'm just bored or out of habit.

All I have to say is: thank goodness for unprocessed foods that are filling and easy to make into a meal, like almond butter and cheese and apples, bananas, peaches, and salad mix.  And leftovers.  So many leftovers.

Day 4: Kitchen Experiments

I love pancakes.  When my friend K posted this link to a recipe for pumpkin "Paleo" pancakes, I was intrigued.  While I generally have little interest in the Paleo diet (a vegetarian diet seems to be the one that keeps me healthy), my desire to make the pancakes stemmed from the fact that they were so very simple. Three ingredients?  No refined grains or oils or other processed stuff?  Taste like pancakes? Let's give 'em a shot for a quick and easy dinner after yoga.

My first pancake(s) were a flop.  Big falling apart flop, so I ate them in their little crumbly pieces. And didn't take a picture, except of the batter.

Second attempt, I made just one big one in the middle of the pan and let them cook all the way through before flipping.  Much better.  And doesn't it look like a normal pancake?  Who'd know it was just pumpkin, almond butter, and an egg!

Man, they are delicious.  Extremely simple, very filling, and I felt pretty good.  I ate mine with Greek yogurt* and sliced bananas and a little drizzle of honey.

This morning, I made them for Lance and me for breakfast.  His reaction was surprise: he exclaimed that they were pretty tasty.  This morning, I mixed pumpkin and banana to make the batter and ate mine with Greek yogurt and honey.  And sure enough, they did a pretty good job of keeping me decently full until lunch time.  I'll try them again tomorrow, probably, for a post-run breakfast (also known as breakfast #2) after my 5:30am run.  Give them a try--they are easy and delicious!

Grain-Free "Paleo" Pancakes

(adapted from The Paleo Project blog)

Makes enough for one serving, but they are easily doubled for two!

• 1 banana or big scoop of pureed pumpkin (to make two servings, I used both)
• 1 egg
• 1 big spoonful of almond butter (probably around 2 tbsp)

Mash/mix/puree all ingredients together.  I used a fork and a vigorous stirring method, but if you feel like dirtying your blender/food processor, go for it.

Pour batter onto hot/greased skillet and cook until little bubbles form on the top and the edges are firm.  Flip and cook on the other side.  Put on a plate and gobble down with whatever topping suits your fancy: I'm fond of fruit, Greek yogurt, and honey myself.

*I think Paleo eaters avoid dairy, so if you're a Paleo person, find something else delicious to eat on it.  Luckily, I'm not a Paleo eater because, damn, I love me some Greek yogurt.

Day 3: In the Rhythm

When beginning this project, I was not prepared for the complete mind shift I would have to make.  For example, I reached for my friend's funnel cake and nibbled on it before I even remembered that I wasn't eating processed food.  I had remembered it earlier when I was offered chips and cookies, and it was pretty easy to turn it down (without lengthy explanations that I'm eating particularly), but when A offered the funnel cake up, I pinched off a piece without even thinking.

Which led me to think about how much of our food choices can be unthinking.  Not that we should obsess about what we eat every moment of everyday--food can be one of the many delights of life, after all--but the unthinking grabbing of a cookie. Or a piece of candy. Or any other mindless eating that we may engage in throughout the day, not because of hunger or anything but for other reasons.  Funnel cakes are delicious.  That cookie was just sitting there.  Someone offered me a cupcake, and I ate it without assessing if I really wanted it or if I was really even hungry.

Now that I'm having to be more conscious and deliberate about what I eat, I realize that I'm definitely someone for whom food is not always a matter of hunger and response to hunger.  There are lots of other factors, and habit is one of them.  It's almost habitual to want a bite of what Lance is nibbling on instead of just waiting for dinner or until I'm hungry.

Anyway, just some thoughts.  I'm definitely not opposed to snacking or sweets, but I think I prefer to be  little more aware of what goes into my body.  This experiment is a lot about cultivating awareness.

A little glimpse of what I'm eating:

Breakfast
Steel cut oats with a little pumpkin puree (that I roasted and pureed myself from the pumpkin you see there!), honey, cinnamon, walnuts, and raisins.  Coffee and half and half.  I really love pumpkin oatmeal--so filling and tasty and seasonal.

Lunch
Mixed greens with roasted vegetables and edamame avocado salad.  Banana and a dab of almond butter. That Avocado Edamame salad is fantastic--I made it last night and thoroughly enjoyed it, though I think I need to drain off the excess dressing.  The dressing itself is pretty tasty on its own, and it's one thing we so often purchase that can easily be made at home with a few simple ingredients (vinegar, oil, seasonings).

Snack
Piece of cheese (without anything crazy in it, so it passes the "kitchen test") and an apple.  It's apple season--I love it!  Apple with cheese is one of my favorite snacks.

Day 2: Complicated Yogurt

Yesterday, we went to the grocery store to pick up a few items for the week, and I decided to get some yogurt.  I figured that my standard yogurt would work just fine, because it's all-natural and organic and made of magical milk and all; however, I quickly discovered that even the high-quality, organic yogurts have ingredients that count as processed.

It was a little disturbing to pick up carton after carton of yogurts and find all manner of additives: inulin, pectin, dry milk powder: basically ingredients that are added to make it thicker.  Inulin is a starch that is naturally occurring, but extracting it requires heavy processing.  I'm certain I could not make that at home.  Pectin I probably could, but not the pectin that they put into yogurt.  Basically, I discovered that most brands of yogurt are more processed than I realized (and that this challenge might be more difficult than I realized).

Happily, I found a yogurt with only one ingredient (cultured milk)--Chobani Greek yogurt.  It's a little expensive, but I like having a little yogurt every now and then, especially since I don't really drink milk much.  It's pretty tasty too, thick and creamy without lots of saturated fat or additives to make it thicker.

Reading the labels really hit home to me that I apparently look only for the obviously problematic ingredients, but I don't think about the nature of some of the foods I buy without really examining the labels.  Sometimes I'm just content to know that it's organic or all-natural, even though I know that being organic (and certainly being all-natural) doesn't mean something isn't junk food or is good for me.

No Unprocessed: Day 1

 I've decided to participate in a little food challenge called October Unprocessed, where I spend one month not eating anything processed.  Cool, I thought, as I signed up for the challenge.  Now it's day 1, and while I don't think it's going to be that difficult for me, I realized I didn't think all the way through what "unprocessed" would be.

The sponsoring blog, Eating Rules, uses the "kitchen test" rule to determine processed from unprocessed.  The idea would be if I could reasonably make it in my own home, it doesn't count. (So, my cans of tomatoes are cool, but boxed mac and cheese not so much.  Or really any boxed pasta or anything that has weird ingredients or ingredients I couldn't use at home).

So, for one, no white flour or white sugar.  These foodstuffs are typically processed within an inch of their lives, nowhere near their whole form.  Luckily, I can find bread and stuff that's made with whole wheat flour (which I can, theoretically, grind at home because we have an awesome food grinder), and if Lance bakes some bread, I'll probably eat that if it is mostly whole grain.  He told me that rolled oats are cool, though, because they are simply rolled--no craziness (and you theoretically can roll them at home).  I'll probably go for more of the steel cut oats, though.

The muffin I ate at my favorite bakery this morning in my pre-coffee haze was definitely a violation, though.  But now I'm aware.

Mostly, I want to see how hard it'll be to avoid processed stuff.  Most people who know how I eat know that I generally eat healthy with little junkfood, but I sometimes let it sneak in when I'm bombarded by stuff at school.  I want to see how much I let that stuff sneak into my diet--probably a little more than I realized, given the muffin I ate this morning--and how difficult it might be to prepare and cook food for myself while maintaining a crazy-busy schedule (luckily, Lance is a HUGE help with dinner cooking).

I also plan to blog through it and share recipes, so here's my first as a replacement for my morning granola bars: Banana Oatmeal Bars!

Banana Oatmeal Bars
(adapted slightly from freisencold.com)

• 2 large or 3 medium ripe bananas
• 1-3/4 cup rolled oats
• 1/2 cup chopped dried dates
• 1/4 cup flax seed
• 1/4 cup walnuts
• cinnamon

In a bowl, mash the banana.  Add the rest of the ingredients, stir.  Press the batter into into a lightly greased 9x9 pan and bake in a 350 degree oven for about 30 minutes.  Cut up and eat!

Broken Record

When I sat down to dinner the night before the race, I was peppered with queries about my goals: what was I shooting for?  What did I want to get out of the race?  How'd I feel?  This was somewhat new to me, but since I've become increasingly involved in a running group, forming friendships and receiving (and giving!) motivation, I realized how influential these questions and goal-setting could be.  Tentatively, I said that I was going for under 2 hours, since I wanted to set a PR.

Deep down, I was both sure I could do it--hadn't I run consistently throughout the summer?  And hadn't my fellow runners (and L) told me that I was getting faster?--and also sure that maybe I shouldn't set too high a goal for myself.  I mean, after all, my best races were the once where I went in without a firm goal and just ran it.

I set out with Abby, and we ran and ran.  The course was difficult, both in terms of hilly terrain and slick, muddy road conditions, but we were enjoying ourselves.  It was fun to be running through a cool Ozark morning, watching the horses run beside us at one point (they were excited!) and looking out at the gorgeous green hills.  Even a five minute rain couldn't drench our spirits.  We were running with each other, and we knew that our fellow runners who we knew or just met were running alongside.

Toward the end of the race, Abby took off, feeling good.  I stayed close behind, the final hills taking a toll on my already tired legs.  I was planning to let it loose on the last mile, but the hill was so steep that I just couldn't sprint.  I realized that I probably could have pushed it harder a bit earlier, but this is my 3rd half after all--I'm still learning how to budget my energy.  I saw the finish line, and ran as hard as I could, crossing the line and setting a PR (personal record) for the half.

The whole experience was amazing.  I registered for the race on a whim, but the best part was that I didn't run it alone--I ran it with running friends and amazing women who all set PRs of their own. And best of all, I've decided that I am ready for a marathon, and will keep increasing those long runs this fall with the goal of running one in December.

Empty?

You'd think I'd have nothing to write about by my long silence, but you'd be wrong.  A short list of what's being going on in the interim:

• Montana trip! (And visiting a baby!)
• Running, running, running
• I can do a real push up now, which is exciting to only me
• History of the English Language: nerd-tastic
• Teaching: I'm teaching a Science Writing course, which has a blog that I have been updating, so my writing energies have been focused out.
• Various crafty projects that I hope to share with you soon.
• One week and counting without my husband at home
• Also one week without a car, relying on my two legs, a bicycle, and the generosity of friends
• Fall semester is busy, busy, busy, and I'm trying to make sure I don't lag behind
• Half-marathon coming up in a week! (My first of the year)

Anyway, this is a partial and incomplete list, but I hope to get my writing brain going by posting a list of things I should deal with in more detail.  So here goes...

A Summer Cake to Beat the Heat

Every summer, I volunteer to be a "teacher buddy:" I get to hang out with three Mexican teachers who come to AR for a teacher training program.  Last night, I had them over for dinner, and I made them this cake:

It was delicious.  It's a riff off of my favorite ginger muffins from Marion Cunningham's The Breakfast Book. I love this cookbook--it has great recipes (my favorite oatmeal pancakes are also in this book).  If you're looking for a new cookbook, get this one--it's all about breakfast!

Anyway, here's what you're wanting: the cake recipe. :)

Fresh Ginger Cake with Peaches and Whipped Cream
(from The Breakfast Book by Marion Cunningham)

• big knob of fresh ginger, unpeeled, cut into large chunks
• 1 cup sugar, divided
• zest of one lemon
• 1 stick of butter, room temperature
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup buttermilk
• 2 cups all purpose flour
• 1/2 tsp. salt
• 1 tsp baking soda

• whipped cream
• powdered sugar
• vanilla
• fresh peaches
• chopped crystallized ginger

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and prepare two 8" or 9" cake pans (I used 9")

Put the ginger into a food processor/food chopper (or chop finely by hand) and chop, chop, chop.  You should have about 1/4 cup of ginger bits, but don't fret if you have too much (I'm of the opinion that a little more is better).  Put into a small saucepan with 1/4 cup of sugar and cook until the sugar melts and the mixture is heated, stirring constantly.  Set aside to cool.  When cool, mix in the lemon zest.

In a small bowl, mix flour, salt and baking soda and set aside.

Beat the butter and the rest of the sugar until smooth and creamy.  Add the eggs and beat well.  Add the buttermilk.  Add the flour mixture and beat until smooth (but not too much).  Add the lemon ginger mixture.

Spoon the batter into the prepared pans and bake until done (about 20-25 minutes, depending on your pan).  Cool in pans briefly, then invert onto racks until completely cooled.

Meanwhile, peel and chop about three peaches.  Reserve one half to slice for the top.

Once cooled, beat the whipped cream with sugar and vanilla (to taste).  Spoon a bit on the bottom layer, then pile the chopped peaches on top.  Use the rest of the whipped cream to frost the cake, then garnish with the sliced peach half and chopped crystallized ginger.

Running in Oklahoma

It's hot, in the winding maze
of the subdivision--
but the sprinklers are a brief delight

distracting from the dusky burn,
and the knowledge--
that sprinklers are a waste of water.