the land of enchantment

Welcome to lovely New Mexico, the current place I am. After returning from Montana, I rested for two days and departed on the third. We (me and three other intrepid scholars) drove the twelve hours. It turns out that there's not much between Amarillo and Albuquerque, though the owners of little holes want you to think there is.

Tomorrow, I'll be running with other WPA folks. Right now, I'm enjoying the view from the back patio (see pic). It was too early to go to bed, so we are sitting outside. Tomorrow, we begin conference stuff. We had our opening banquet tonight, with a fascinating talk.

Today, I worked, swam, worked out in the tiny gym, met some people, and had a generally relaxing pre-conference day. I'm glad we came out a day early.

Now that I'm rambling, time to sign off!

running all over town

The joys of running in a new place are hard to describe.  Not only do you get a break from the scenery that maybe has grown a little too familiar, but you get a chance to explore a place on foot.  I always feel like I get a great sense of a town when I'm able to run through it, running around in unfamiliar paths and having to find my way back home.  I rarely have trouble locating myself in a new place when I run it--my brain remembers directions very well when I run them.

Bozeman has become a trip I look forward to each year, and a minor part of it is running.  (A lot is hanging out with L's fabulous brother and sister-in-law--my brother- and sister-in-law now!--and our niece, who is amazing.)  I love escaping the muggy Arkansas heat.  I love running in altitude, the lack of oxygen more than made up for by the cool temperatures and the great views.

I got up early this morning and set out for a little 4-miler, which was relaxing and thoroughly enjoyable.  I ran in my Vibram Fivefingers, a pair I purchased in Bozeman two years ago when I first began running barefoot/minimally.  Today, I picked up a new pair of New Balance Minimus to replace the pair I purchased last year that are ready to be retired.

Old Mimimus (gray) meet New Minimus (black)

The old ones I have are the Minimus 10 trail runners--I ran a year in them including training for and running the Little Rock Marathon and three half-marathons in them. They got me through a lot of runs, and they completely converted me to a more minimal shoe.

Hello, my lovelies

The new ones, however, are Minimus Zeros, meaning they now are completely flat from heel to toe.  Normal running shoes have a stacked heel, which means they have a bit of a higher heel than forefoot--the Minimus 10s have a 4mm drop from heel to toe.  It's not much of a drop (a LOT less than "regular" running shoes).  And they also have a bit more padding in the soles.  When I heard NB released a zero-drop, I was intrigued.  So today I tried some on and was amazed at how they felt.

The Zeros are lighter by far--I picked them up and was stunned at how light they are.  The 10s are a lot lighter than regular running shoes, but these felt like air.  When I put them on, it felt like I barely had anything on my feet.  The Zeros are also a lot more flexible in the sole than the 10s--you can actually fold them in half!

Crazy!

I walked around in them tonight as we went to the farmers' market and ran a bit to avoid the incoming rainstorm.  I liked how they felt--they were a part of my foot, molding around them and flexing as my feet flex.  I plan to run in them a bit tomorrow to see how they feel on a regular run--I'm sure it'll be an adjustment, but since I've been running fairly regularly in my FiveFingers, I'm sure they'll do just fine.

And now to leave you with a picture of some awesome scenery: Hyalite! Even a crappy iPhone picture looks beautiful--the skies here are amazing.

morning run + pictures

As promised, I post again! Here's some photos from my run early this morning.  We picked up a bike trail near our house and ended up at a tiny lake, so I ran a couple of loops around it before turning back.

As I rounded the corner and stopped to take the photo around the tiny lake, a mama duck thought I was too close to her nest and came quacking and flying toward me. I wasn't there to hurt her babies, though, and you can see them in two of the photos.  I also saw a gosling with still with down instead of feathers up close (she hopped in the water when I ran too near), and tons and tons of ground squirrels in their colonies, which L biked through to watch them scurry and chirp with alarm.

Credit: fieldguide.mt.gov

I had 12 miles on my schedule for today, but I was unable to run the full amount because it take a day or two for me to adjust to the altitude.  I took it easy, but after 8 or so, I was definitely feeling the miles in a way I don't normally--my legs felt like lead. For the whole run I felt like I didn't have quite enough oxygen, which I normally don't really feel unless I'm running all out.  It was a lovely morning for a run, and I decided that the stress of altitude and running on some of the trails would make up for the mileage reduction.

I talked L into biking along with me while I ran because I was a little apprehensive of finding my way and getting back home.  Mostly, though, he kept the run fun, and I had someone to talk to since I wasn't able to run with my normal running gals.  They got their runs in yesterday back in the muggy state I left behind for a week, though apparently it rained and made the temperatures more tolerable.

We're about to head out to Hyalite for a day trip: canoeing, fishing (for L and his dad), and grilling.  It should be fun and relaxing, and I promise to take some photos with my better camera.

And before I go, here's a pic of my niece's piggy--it's a big mama pig with one of her six babies! (The babies store inside of her and zip up, and there's velcro for them to attach to her.  It's like the best thing ever.)

Cooler temperatures, lighter hearts

It's amazing how oppressed one can feel when it's hot and muggy.  The world moves slower, time seems to inch along.  I feel weighed down, sluggish when it's hot; I have a heart time motivating myself to move a bit more quickly, to do a bit more even when I have more time to do it in.  It's the effect of summer: the body is not meant to do a lot when it's hot and is meant to rest and relax poolside or take a nap.

Yesterday, halfway through South Dakota, the air cooled off to 64 degrees.  Clad in shorts and a tank top, I was actually a bit chilly as we walked around during a rest stop and later when we stopped for dinner.  L and I both felt our spirits lift; not only were we on the way to visit family, but we were freed from the leaden heat.

Today, we arrived in Bozeman where we'll be staying for the next week.  Our little cottage is cozy; we are near L's fam and we have spacious accommodations.  L and I have commandeered the downstairs for our own little space while the in-laws have the upstairs bedroom, so we each have our own little space in the house.

Tomorrow, I'm heading out for a 12 mile run where I'll explore the town a bit (and hopefully not get lost!), then we're off to the mountains for the day to fish and hike and cookout.  I will take photos and post regularly while we're here. :)

Yay, Montana!

the summer slips by.

I blink and suddenly it's the end of June. Where does the time go?

Last weekend, I spent some time near Tulsa, OK playing in an Ultimate Frisbee tournament.  Our team ended up winning the whole thing, going undefeated all weekend! It was a great learning experience for me and a fun chance to play some frisbee with great women and fabulous athletes.

Unfortunately, the tournament meant utter bodily exhaustion, so I returned to Fayetteville and promptly slept for 12 hours.  It felt awesome, and I realize I need to make getting a full night's sleep a regular priority.  Challenge...accepted!

Last week was my final week of work at the writing center, and it was a busy (but fun!) week.  The summer is super intense, and I found myself with a group of clients that kept returning for me to help, so it was enjoyable to see their progress over a few short weeks as they developed as writers.

Today began early with a 10 mile run with my lady running group (so begins the marathon training!), which was great.  Then, market and the pride parade.  After lunch, I returned home to clean and prepare for our upcoming trip...and fell asleep.  Oops!  After I woke up, I straightened things up a bit, then headed to the pool with A. and swam laps. Because I love swimming laps, and it feels like it helps me work out muscle soreness that running builds up.  My swimming is coming along nicely--I have more stamina, and I'm feeling more comfortable with the freestyle stroke, being able to hold my breath for up to 5 strokes.  Sweet.

Tonight, we shopped for our trip and made pickles.  We made about 8 quarts of these guys: Garlic Dill Pickles from one of my favorite preserving site, Food in Jars.  L had tons of cucumbers from his garden, and we bought about 12 lbs of small pickling cucumbers at market this morning, so we set forth to make sweet gherkins, garlic dills, regular dills, and bread and butter pickles (which have to sit overnight, so we'll be canning them tomorrow).  An impressive array of pickled things to add to our dilly beans that we made a few weeks ago.  NOM.

Also, it turns out that pickle juice is an excellent electrolyte replacement.  After swimming, I was feeling woozy and headachy, which I initially took as the need to eat something.  But then I recalled that I moved a lot today (running, biking, swimming, walking, etc), and it was hot, so I sweated a lot.  I don't generally eat a lot of salt, so I was a bit low on salts, I think.  Once I took a couple of swigs of the pickle juice leftover from last year's batch of dilly beans (which I was craving, weirdly), I felt much better.  It sounds a bit gross; however, I don't generally crave salt, but I occasionally want pickles really badly. So, pickle juice it is!

Tomorrow will be filled with more tasks, but I hope to blog a bit more regularly on our trip. Travel is always fun, and I should have internet access to chronicle this trip.  Off for another summer adventure!

A Better Take on 'Left Behind'

When I was in high school, I started reading the Left Behind series.  At some point my freshman year, I realized the books were crap--and much, much later, I found this awesome blog who took it upon himself to painstakingly read and comment on the series as a way of exposing the problems with a particular religious mindset.

Since then, I've encountered other takes on the theme: what would happen if the Rapture were to really happen?  A particularly excellent version was this graphic novel that postulated that if the Rapture happened, it would open to the door to all sorts of supernatural occurrences, such as avenging angels and talking animals.  So when I heard about Tom Perrotta's new novel, The Leftovers, I was intrigued.  Having previously read his excellent The Abstinence Teacher, I added the novel to my to-read list after I received it for Christmas.

Perrotta places what he calls The Sudden Departure in a prologue, and he focuses his novel not on the event itself, but on the repercussions of the random disappearance of millions on a few characters in the small town, Mapleton.  There's the Garvey family, who lost no one in their family, but whose four members react differently to the event, including Laurie (the mother) and Tom (the son), who both turn to fanatical religion as a way to make sense of the post-event world.  There's Nora, who lost her husband and children to the event and who struggles to reconnect with the world of family and relationships.  Because Perrotta writes the disappearances as having no reason, the vanished individuals sharing no common characteristic, the quest to understand why drives the characters to cope in often extreme (or not-so-extreme) ways.

The beauty of the novel is that it doesn't attempt to examine the effects of such an event on some large, global scale.  Instead, Perrotta focuses on the small ripples, the reactions of a few individuals to dig into their psyches.  Characters turn to religion, to other people, to themselves, to drugs in an attempt to comprehend the event, to forget it, or to deal with the gnawing hole in their hearts.  And Perrotta doesn't moralize or attempt to establish universals; he portrays the characters and their relationships to one another, their conversations and their thoughts, to demonstrate the trauma and sense of desperation these characters experience.

Overall, I thought the book was well conceived and well written.  It takes what used to be an eye-roll inducing theme and turns it into something intriguing.  While some characters are not as well developed as others, and some story lines are dropped or never reach a close, the novel is executed well.  It was one of those books that I find myself thinking about long after I read the final words and shut the cover.  If you're as intrigued as I am with authors who use small snapshots of everyday life to explore the depth of human emotions and motivations, you'll enjoy this book.

Experiencing Hunger

The hunger-satiating salad

It was long past my lunchtime, but a full docket at the writing center left no time to consume my lunch. I left work a little after 1pm, heading home to eat lunch there.  When I arrived, I was so hungry that I was verging on dizziness as I prepared my meal; however, my salad never tasted so good, the flavors strong and satisfying.

Why did I wait so long to eat? I am trying to listen to my hunger signals a little better, to pay attention to when I need to eat, and when I'm just eating because it's time to eat.  So I could have eaten early to avoid getting hungry, but I refused to.  I don't obviously advocate not eating until one is to the point of dizziness or passing out, but I'm learning to experience hunger.

Okay, I know that seems weird (and possibly disordered), so I'll explain: because I sometimes have issues with my blood sugar dipping (though not eating sugar/refined grains reduces it drastically), I have an aversion to being hungry for longer than a few minutes.  When I start to feel a few pangs, I usually eat something, which frequently leads me to eat when I'm probably not actually  hungry.  I eat from boredom and habit rather than because I need sustenance.

L's brother once said something offhandedly that has stuck with me: in response to a question about if he needed food before the next meal, he commented, "It's not bad to feel hungry."  (or something like that).  It has stuck with me because I always felt like it was a state to be constantly avoided.  But what if hunger isn't as bad as I feared?

I had a cat who didn't have constant access to food when she was a kitten. As a result, she was always concerned about the state of her food bowl: she would constantly come into the house simply to check to make sure her food was still there.  As someone who is lucky enough to always have access to food, I nevertheless picked up a strong fear of not having enough to eat.  Maybe it's from growing up in a big family (with hungry, growing boys) where if you didn't jump in, you might miss out on getting something.  It's also related to the bad experiences of being lightheaded from hunger before lunch in school or moments of hangry that wash over me if I don't eat.

These fears and the distrust of my own body are something I'm coming to terms with.  Hence, waiting to eat until I really am hungry, even if I accidentally push myself into a red line.  I'm learning to trust my body, that if I treat myself right, my body will tell me what it needs if I'm willing to pay attention to its physical signals.  It isn't bad to feel hungry, especially if it means waiting a little while to eat something delicious.

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Last night after dinner, I wanted a little dessert.  L's mom is staying with us for a few days, and she brought cake for us to enjoy.  I decided that I'd have a bite of cake with some fruit.  As I was eating my cake, I realized that I didn't really want it after all.  The first few bites were okay, but I really just wanted fruit and yogurt. So I stopped eating it and gave the rest to L.  Not only did I get a tiny portion to start with, but I recognized when my body had enough and I stopped.

I'm not certain how to convey how big this is for me, but believe me: it's big. Almost unheard of, in fact. I'm actually still a little shocked that I managed to do it.  I usually blow by those signals and keep on eating to the point of misery, so I'm starting to understand how trusting and listening to those physical signals can help me to eat in a way that is balanced and healthy.  And I have to say, I like it a lot.

A Week's Thoughts

(Every time I'd think of something to write, I'd forget to come over here and type it up. So instead of trying to string some of these thoughts over a couple of separate posts, I thought I'd just dump them all into one.)

1. Running

As I was driving away to run some errand, I noticed the little old man shuffle by me.  He wore running shorts, white tube socks that hit midway up his calf, and well-worn running sneakers.  It wasn't the first time that I'd noticed him, with his slow shuffle-jog.  He runs by my house frequently.  I don't know if he runs every day, but he seems pretty committed to running, even though he's not very fast and his limbs are a little too old to move with strength and agility.

As I watched him, I thought to myself: being a runner isn't about speed.  It isn't about ability, even.  To be a "real runner," requires a certain mindset.  The little old man was a runner, through and through.  This is why I encourage newer runners (or slower runners, even) to not compare themselves to anyone.  Run for the joy of running, for how it feels, for the strength and peace it brings.  If you do that, you're a real runner.

And I only hope that when I'm 90 years old, I'm still out running, even if it's barely faster than walking.

2. Eats

My meals these days have been (mostly) sugar-free and full of veggies.  And lovely to behold and to eat.

Sauteed shredded Brussels sprouts and carrot
 with tofu meatballs and beets

Shredded Brussels sprouts and carrots,
topped with scrambled egg, salsa, and avocado

Mixing bowl salad: beans, sweet potato,
avocado, salsa, cucumber

Caprese with freshly-picked basil/tomato
topped with homemade ricotta

 3. Sugar-Free

In the interest of full disclosure, I haven't been on 100%...but I've come to realize that it's okay.  The little diversions and "cheats" have helped me keep on track about 80-90% of the time.  And I've been very selective with how I cheat, turning down cake that wasn't homemade or distinctive but drinking a (single) beer with friends out.  And so on.  It's helped me not feel anxious for how I'm going to eat after the 21st day--because I've already figured out a way to balance it, though it's sure to still be an ongoing challenge.  Plus, I felt a bit more motivated after eating a bit of excluded foods, which made my stomach hurt and drained my energy.

4. Shopping

When you're on a limited budget, shopping is not something I can do at this point. This weekend, I dropped by a friend's yardsale and scored some great shoes and a few accessories for not much money, including a pair of red flats that I love, love, love.  On Tuesday, I headed to my favorite thrift store to look for some shorts (a post for another day).  Among other things, I found these little lovelies:

For a few bucks, I became the proud owner of (yet) another pair of flats--these were Nine West and in almost perfect shape.  I've noticed that I'm slowly acquiring more and more flats and getting rid of heels that are uncomfortable or not a good fit. Flats are nice because I can walk on campus with them, but they can still look dressy for teaching.  And I can wear them with jeans or skirts.  (I also got a great pair of Kenneth Cole Reaction heels--so I'm not entirely giving up heels).  After returning home, I cleared out several pairs of shoes that needed to go, more than balancing out the new acquisitions.

I try to keep my closet pruned, and I'm learning to not even purchase clothes or shoes used that are not quality brands--I'm constantly finding Forever21 stuff that is cute but is sure to fall apart after a few wears.  Not worth my time or effort, even if it is purchased used.

5. Handmade

When I saw the new Fabric-by-Fabric One-Yard Wonders book, I knew I had to get it because of the bike pannier pattern.  Panniers would be the perfect answer for how to transport myself and my load of stuff to campus, enabling me to bike more regularly and consistently.  So, finally, I made them on Sunday, staying up until 2am because I got fixated on getting them finished:

They turned out perfectly.  The bags are a good size to hold my stuff, and while I'm working on campus this summer, I don't have to bother with a backpack, saving my back from sweating disgustingly as I commute back and forth.  And I can detach and carry them easily into the building with little fuss.

I made it from a yard of oil cloth and some small supplies, so they were cheaper than buying my own--and I got to use this awesome vintage-patterned oil cloth.  I might even make a few more (with some adjustments to the design) for my friends who are interested in one. All-in-all, a good DIY experience.

And that's it...for now. :)

Swimming! (And Other Things)

The pool opened up last Friday, and (true to my word), I decided to pay for a summer pass so I can go to the pool ALL THE TIMES.  Thus far, I have been two for two--we went yesterday, and I went today.

I love the water, but it also freaks me out a little to be in the deep end (sometimes).  Today, though, I felt fine in the deep end, so maybe I just have to get used to it.

I tend to swim laps, even though they're hard, and I get really tired.  It's strange that I can run for hours and hours really fast (see 1:52 half marathon last weekend!), but I can only swim half a lap in the pool before I have to stop to breathe a bit.  I suspect part of it is not knowing how to breathe well; when you run, you can breathe all you want, but when you swim, you have to be okay with not breathing all the time.

I think by the end of the summer, I want to get up to swimming a full mile without stopping (with a 0-1650 yard plan!).  So this week's goal is to get to a full lap. I think I can do it now, I just need to not get freaked out by my inability to breath every stroke.

I also need to figure out strategies to keep my hair from drying out from the constant chlorine.

Maybe my next task will be to jump off the diving board...

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I've begun gathering my books for comps, which is both exhilarating and a little scary. Now I need to read and keep searching for things.  I'm supposed to have the list together soon, so that's what I'll be working on.

The sugar detox has been going reasonably well.  I feel better than I have in a while, I don't really worry tons about food, and I eat when I'm hungry and stop when I'm full, which is exactly what I want to be like.  My fellow sugar detoxer talked me into not completely starting over.  I have decided that while I'm not going to be 100% off sugar, it's going to be a rare occurrence (along with refined grains and other processed things). In other words, I'm going to be eating a bit differently from here on out.

As LS and I keep saying to each other sugar=devil. Also, the diabetes.

Athlete--That's Me?

I think I can officially add a new title to my list of descriptors: athlete.  I've probably already thought of it before, generally.  I mean, I did finish a marathon and all.  But after this weekend's big PR in the half marathon (by over 6 minutes!), I am feeling that athlete is an appropriate label to claim for myself.

Yesterday, I went out and played Ultimate Frisbee for the first time in two years, and I was amazed at how comfortable I felt.  I feel more capable in my running, I was quick and able to stay with my person (even with recovering legs), and I was able to throw and catch decently.  I also feel like I'm better understanding the logic of the game, of how to run and where to be, the strategies and the requirements to play well.  I'm by no means the weakest person on my team, and that made me feel good.

Better yet, my team is friendly and encouraging.  I didn't feel anxious about messing up, and I asked questions from the better players, and I had a great time.

Running is wonderful, but even in a group, it's a solo sport.  Only you (the runner) can affect what happens on the run.  While running with other people helps pass the time and improve running speed, at the end, you're in your own head and in charge of your body.  You have to run your own race at your own pace.  But even as much as I like the solitary aspect of running, I miss the camaraderie of being a part of a team, of contributing to a larger entity.  I enjoy team sports (especially when I feel like I'm actively contributing), so I'm really glad I got talked into signing up for summer league this year.

The confidence and the comfort I feel in my skin is one of the best results of owning my athleticism.  I'm looking forward to this summer as the time I continue to hone and develop my skills and see what my body is wonderfully and awesomely capable of.

A Busy/Full Weekend

It's the end of a long and busy weekend. Fun, productive, but tiring. :)

On Friday morning (early), we got up and I rode to Kansas City with my bro and sister-in-law and their darling child.  (They've been in town most of the week, so I've been spending lots of much-needed time with them!) It was fun because we talked and I played with C and got to know her--she likes me, even though I accidentally bit her finger.  Ooops!

CUPCAKES RULE!

We then headed to pick up our packets for the Hospital Hill half marathon, where my brother, B, found himself a GPS watch, and I found myself a sweet pair of bright orange running shorts.  I blame the lack of food and a bit of encouragement from my sister-in-law, A, for why they overrode my cautious spending.

We then went and picked up cupcake baking supplies.  We were in KC to get set up for C's 1st birthday party, and I offered (very insistently) to bake the cupcakes.  A picked out some recipes, and B begged for German chocolate. We (me and my baking minions) ended up baking red velvet cupcakes, marbled cupcakes, and German chocolate cupcakes, half in ice cream cones, half regular.

The next morning, we got up and headed to KC for the half marathon.  A and her friend were running the 5k, and my brother agreed to run alongside me for the half.  We couldn't have asked for a better day for running in early June: the temperature was 53 degrees when we began the run, and it was sunny and clear and only got into the 60s by the time we finished. Perfect weather to PR--and I did.  While I didn't remember that the run was all that hilly (it feels a lot hillier when you're running 8:30 miles for 13 miles), I felt great for most of it, coming in at 1:52:11.  My brother had to slow down a bit because of an injury, but he came in 2 minutes after me.  It was amazing--I love that every race I do, I learn more about how to run better, faster, and stronger.  I think I see a possible 1:45 in my future.

Running siblings--and my bright orange shorts!

Not only did I PR, but I got to run with my brother, something we enjoy doing together.  It was a great experience for all of us, and I was so happy that I could share running with my family in this way.  I think B and I will have to find other races to run together.

After the run, we headed back to A's parents' house, cleaned up, ate some food, baked a tiny cake for C's birthday, and then headed down to Fayetteville.  They went to an event, and I chilled at home, taking a much needed nap.  I was so tired, I skipped out on going with them to the bar to hang out and went to sleep instead...

Frosting the cupcakes with a minion

Then, at 4:40am, my alarm went off, and I got up and ready to leave by 5:30am to head BACK to KC.  Yep.  We got there around 9:30am this morning, and I got to work making frosting, and everyone else got to work decorating and prepping for the party.  I made coconut pecan frosting for the German chocolate cupcakes, cream cheese frosting for the red velvet, and chocolate and vanilla Swiss buttercream for the marbled cupcakes and C's tiny tiered cake.  My minions (yes, I had baking minions! it was great!) decorated as I stirred and beat and whipped and creamed.  They turned out beautifully--my favorite moment was when one of A's aunts bit into the cupcake, looked up in surprise, and commented, "That tasted a lot better than I thought it would! You can tell they were homemade."  She took another one home with her.

C's little birthday cake, ready to be SMASHED

C's party went off great--there was baby cake smashing and presents, and much fun had by the guests and the parents.  Food was eaten, games were played, and L showed himself to be an adept helper (as usual) as well as volleyball player.  We make a great team. :)

After much birthday partying was had, C took a nap, and we gathered ourselves to leave.  We finally departed around 6, and drove back home.

And here I am. Home. This next week will be filled with running and ultimate frisbee and working on my comps lists (summer break is over!)

[For those wondering how I did surrounded by such delicious cupcakes...well, I managed to stay sugar free for the most part (except for a few things here and there because of the run yesterday and tasting my recipes), but I did eat two cupcakes today.  But I don't feel bad about it because I enjoyed them a lot.  I will be back on the sugar-free wagon, though, and I'm going to begin again at Day 1.]

Anyway, great and busy weekend, but a joy and a delight as well.  I feel like I've packed in as much brother and sister and niece time as I can, and I hope it's a lot sooner when I see them next.

Day 3: Sugar Detox

Now, don't mistake my intentions here: I'm generally an anti-dieter and anti-anything that smacks of "fad".  But when a friend told me she was doing a sugar detox, I playfully commented that I should do it with her.  She then called my bluff by sending me the guidelines and asking me to keep her company.

I thought I could do it as I went to Philly, but given the unpredictablilities of travel and food options, I thought I'd try to ease back so I didn't go through the horrible sugar withdrawals. Like many travels, though, I ended up eating pretty terribly, so by the time I got home Monday, I was ready to hit the no sugar bandwagon.  It involves cutting out all refined grains and sugars along with other sugars (though I'm not following the no-fruit thing that closely).

Day 1: not too bad.  I cooked, I ate veggies, and I didn't feel too bad.  I had a slight headache for most of the afternoon, but it was okay.

Day 2: I went to run (and forgot to eat!) but since I ate so late, I didn't have any crazy reactions. I ate some Paleo Pancakes (using sweet potato instead of banana and coconut butter instead of almond butter), and felt pretty good.  Then I cleaned and went to work...and got really cranky.  I was super tired and low on energy.  I had to go get a cup of coffee and eat a snack before I rallied, and I continued to feel really lethargic.

Funny thing though: I went to bed and slept really hard and really well.

Day 3: This is the day I decided to torture myself, apparently.  I made three batches of cookies: no-bake (for my brother who is town), raspberry pinwheels, and chocolate cookies.  I offered to also bake cupcakes for my niece's first birthday party this weekend, so that should be amusing.  Also, a friend brought me chocolate as a thank-you for helping her.  Today was the day that all was conspiring against me--you know how hard it is to not to eat cookie batter? Especially no-bake cookies?  But I refrained.  Success! (And because I got to take a little nap and work out a bit, I felt pretty good).

All-in-all, I think in a few days, I'll start feeling more energetic as I clear all the nastiness out of my system. My goal is to use this time to hopefully work toward where I can eat a bit of sweet stuff without eating too much and feeling terrible.

And now, off to take a walk!

The airport

Later, some pics and comments on my conference experience. For now, some comments about the airport.

I gave myself plenty of time to get to the airport, and even though I was worried, there was no one in line, so I breezed on through. That is, until I was found with a partially filled water bottle. Oh noes! Water! So I was escorted back out, where I drank the water, rolled my eyes and breezed back through. Again. And then proceeded to sit and play on the internet for the nearly two hours I had to wait until the plane leaves.

At least there's free wifi. :)

A Confession

I'm about to get all confessional up in here.

I hesitated about blogging about some of my more "darker" issues regarding food, but at the urging of some friends who were interested (and in the interest of continuing to deal with these things more openly), I think that it might be a good idea.

It all starts a long time ago: When I was a kid, my mom used to allow us to get an ICEE occasionally.  Cold and sweet and delicious to our young taste buds, we were always excited.  I have a memory of riding around in the backseat of our Buick on a sunny California day, sipping and sipping on my ICEE.  Mom either commented (or I realized) that I didn't need to drink it all at once; it was better to savor it and sip it slowly.  I remember watching her as she would casually take a drink here and there, not drinking it all down at once.  I remember trying really hard to take just one little drink, then ignore it for a while, but my brain kept nudging me to drink again immediately, to keep drinking and drinking and drinking.  After that, it was a battle between a desire to gulp it all down (followed by sadness because it was all gone) and the sensible move to try to savor it slowly.

My friends, what I'm trying to get at is that sometimes I overeat.  That compulsive behavior is troubling and ugly to me, so I have hid it and hoped no one noticed--until now.

Monday, I came home from work.  It was dinner time, and I was ravenous, so I heated up some leftovers and some peas and toasted tortillas.  It normally would have been a satisfying meal, but I could feel the overwhelming desire to just shove food into my face, rapidly and without discernment.  So I made a quesadilla, and tried to force myself to drink water and think about the fact that I was physically full and didn't need to eat anymore.  For the rest of the night, I fought the compulsion to eat and was partially successful, though I still ate more than I needed.  I felt okay because it was a good step in the right direction, but I felt like a failure because I as trying to eat more lightly to balance out the events over the weekend where I ate a lot.

This is not a new feeling for me.  I feel out of control, pulled by my body's desire for MORE, wanting to stop, unable to control myself.  This is why I rarely have ice cream in the house, or large amounts of chocolate or sweets--I can't just eat one serving.  Sometimes I can, if I eat a bit and then go somewhere or do something, but if it's just me and a pint of ice cream in the house, all bets are off.

I'll dish out a little bit, put the container away, and savor my portion slowly.  But then my brain will nudge me--hey, there's ice cream!  I'll fight it.  Hey! Resist.  Then...fiiine, one bite.  Which turns into a few more, until finally there's only a little bit left on the bottom.  Now that L is around, he notices and will sometimes question (especially when he wants a little bit), but I'll try to play it cool or fib or act like it's no big deal.  Usually, he's not around or in the same room.  And he's really good about not making me feel like I was doing something wrong, but I always feel ashamed of my lack of control.

One a much more minor level, I also tend to overeat often to a point of discomfort when I'm at events with lots of food out, especially if there are sweets.  This also seems like a coping mechanism to deal with social anxiety.

I'm not always certain what triggers these compulsive eating sessions.  It might be related to restricting calories or it might have to do with feeling out of control.  Sometimes, I'm just sad or unhappy or upset and want to eat a lot of ice cream.  Whatever's at the root, though, is something I need to dig up and look at so I can figure out how to proceed.

I'm starting to realize that although this is not a daily event, I need to find better ways to cope.  One is to put myself in situations where food is abundant and everyone is eating, but that hardly seems plausible since I enjoy socializing with my friends and food is a natural part of that.  I think I'm taking a good first step here by sharing this in a public forum.  I realize now, perhaps when I get to that place, I should call a friend or go for a walk or let L help me.  I know, especially now, that I'm not alone in these struggles.

Food and cooking and eating well are things that I love and things I refuse to banish from my life.  I just hate that something that's the source of so much pleasure, something that can bring a lot of enjoyment and can be a healthy part of social interactions is also something that I struggle with.

Thanks for listening, y'all.

Sharing the Table

I love hosting people at our house.  Love it.  I think it's wonderful to make things, to open our house up to other people, to invite them in and treat them like family.  L and I both really enjoy it, and this weekend has been all about having people over.  I think this will be a theme we continue all summer, especially as we look for low-cost ways to entertain and socialize.

Friday night, we had B and I over for tofu "meatballs" with pasta and sauce, alongside chard and salad.  Afterwards, we made banana "ice cream," with a little added cocoa powder and a snickerdoodle.  We had gin (with lime, mint, mixed with sparkling water for a low-cal beverage) and wine, and after dinner, we played Rummikub, one of our favorite games.  It was a delightful evening.

We scurried to clean up and went to bed.  The next morning, I got up to run 12 miles with my running group, after which I invited any who wanted to stay in for breakfast, which L was sweet enough to orchestrate.  We got home and saw this:

L had created quite a spread: fruits, coffee, honey, and my favorite oatmeal pancakes ever.  Two of my running buddies stuck around, and L and I enjoyed breakfast with them.  It was wonderful, and the perfect meal after a long, hard run.

Tonight, we hosted potluck as well.  Potluck had been on a bit of a hiatus with the busyness of the semester, so it was nice to kick it off for the summer.  We grilled out and I made this pie:

This pie is lovely and special and decadent.  It's the kind of pie where a tiny slice is plenty to leave you satisfied. (I just read somewhere that M&Ms are designed specifically to NOT leave you satisfied, so I'm happy to find a dessert that I don't immediately want to eat all of it.)

I may have ate a bit more than I wanted to this weekend, but it was nice to host people and spend more time socializing, and I tried to balance out eating more lightly, which seemed to work decently. The next few days will be a flurry of work and writing before I go on my trip next week, so this was the breather before the work of the summer kicks off.

But this pie may make a reappearance in my life...

Chocolate Espresso Silk Pie
(Adapted slightly from Chocolate Covered Katie)

• One 12.3 oz pkg. firm silken tofu (Mori-Nu works great--don't use not silken!)
• 2 tbsp cocoa powder
• 2 tbsp milk (I used unsweetened vanilla almond milk)
• 2 tbsp maple syrup
• 1 tbsp instant espresso powder
• One 10 oz package chocolate chips (I used Ghirardelli 60% Chocolate Chips--you could use less for a less intense chocolate)
• pie shell or ramekins

Prepare your pie/tart shell (if using--you could technically plop the filling into ramekins and call it good)--blind bake until done.

Melt chocolate chips in the microwave (stirring frequently and watching--you can burn chocolate in the microwave, I promise!) or in a double-boiler/bowl set over simmering water.

In a food processor, puree other ingredients until smooth.  Pour in melted chocolate and blend until smooth and combined.  Pour into shell or ramekins and chill (or eat immediately--it's pretty good).

I cut the tart into 16 pieces and that's plenty for me, though the more voracious of a chocolate eater you are, you might want a bit more.  Enjoy the pie--it's super easy, reasonably healthy, satisfying for the chocolate-lover and sweet tooth, and infinitely adaptable.  A delight!

Book Review or, Why I'm Glad I Live Now

There's this really horrible infection called puerperal fever (also called childbed fever) that once plagued maternity wards all over Europe.  Women would give birth, then suddenly sicken and die and often so would their newborns.  When dissected, they had pockets of infection in their body, usually in the uterus but often in other places as well.

It turns out that these women would be infected by doctors and their students as a result of contact with another infected patient. Even worse, these doctors would go dissect cadavers in the morning and come to deliver babies in the afternoon, never taking the time to disinfect their hands.  We recoil at this now, but remember that before Louis Pasteur and microscopes, there was sense of microbes or bacteria as causing disease.  If your hands looked clean, why bother washing them?

Meanwhile, women giving birth in hospitals all over Europe were dying in mass numbers, and seemingly nothing could be done to stop it.

The discovery of how to prevent the transmission of childbed fever is explored in Sherwin B. Nuland's The Doctors' Plague (2003).  A fascinating read, I picked it up after hearing some writing instructors discussing it as a text for use in a science writing class. (Also, I have a not-so-secret love of science and nonfiction--my next read may be The Ghost Map by Steven Johnson).  Nuland interweaves the story of medical advances and the sad tale of Ignac Semmelweis, a Hungarian physician who, while working in Vienna, discovered how to stop epidemics of puerperal fever: have all nurses, doctors, and students wash their hands in a chloride solution (scrubbing under the nails to get rid of cadaver bits) before entering the ward.  (Clean sheets and tools were also essential).

Poor Semmelweis befriended no one with his tactics, unfortunately, and although his theory of the fever's transmission has some optimistic support among the younger physicians who were his friends and colleagues, it wasn't until Pasteur discovered microbes and Joseph Lister figured out what led to gangrene that his theory received widespread acceptance.

Nuland's book digs into how the older vanguard can hold back scientific (and medical) progress, how new discoveries are made, and the need for scientists to publish their ideas in an accessible and clear way.  Semmelweis published his theory at the very end of his life, but it was so convoluted, long, repetitive, and full of diatribes against the doctors who opposed him that it was virtually unreadable.  Had Semmelweis written earlier with the help of better speakers and had he been able to befriend those in the profession instead of alienate them, his theory might have been better received, and (eventually) accepted.

Nuland's exploration on the communication aspect is particularly fascinating to me, as a science writing teacher and someone interested in the rhetoric of science.  The book was a fast, easy read, and although it might scare off some of the more squeamish readers, it was interesting and informative.  (And it made me grateful that I wasn't a woman giving birth in the 1800s in a hospital where anyone in the teaching ward could just come and poke me with their dirty fingers.)  I recommend it if you're looking for an interesting read and you love science-based nonfiction.

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.