tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19176809485484467622024-03-12T22:10:03.793-07:00I was therekchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.comBlogger285125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-391485250170628772015-12-07T12:05:00.004-08:002015-12-07T12:05:56.912-08:00Ten Things I Learned While Running A Marathon: Part III meant to post this right after<b> Part I</b>, but I forgot, mostly because I got really busy right after Part I and was traveling and doing an insane amount of chalkboards. So I apologize, but here's the rest of them:<br />
<br />
<b>6. Energy to Burn</b><br />
So at the start of my training for my
marathon, I decided to do a Whole30. Not because I was doing marathon
training, it was completely unrelated and coincidental. Well, being a
ShotBlok girl FOR LIFE, you can imagine the conundrum when I realized
that, whoops! Those are definitely not Whole30 compatible!<br />
<br />
I found some <a href="http://girlwasthere.blogspot.com/2015/07/yummy-running-snacks-that-are-whole30.html" target="_blank">tasty no-bake energy bites</a>
that did the trick, and switched from using Margarita flavored shot
bloks to using sodium pills that I found at my local running store. I
have continued to use the sodium pills, simply because I like them
better than choking down the oddly flavored margarita shot bloks, though
you have to be paying a lot more attention to your body when you're
using the pills instead of a pre-planned shot blok intake! I usually pop
the first one at 45 minutes and then I have another once every hour of
running. That seems to work. The tricky part is when you're last hour
won't be a full hour: I learned the hard way to take one anyway. The
dizzy spells, fatigue, and confusion (yes, confusion!) the rest of that
day were not worth the "guessing." You do have to be careful, but if you
take too much you'll just pee it out or sweat it out. Plus, I have a
dear dear friend who fell into a coma from lack of sodium...please be
careful out there!<br />
<br />
For my actual race, I had
re-introduced shot bloks into my system - and they are still my
preferred snack during a run - but it was nice to mix it up with the
no-bake energy bites and the shot bloks. The bites gave me some
different nutrients than the shot bloks and visa versa, so it seemed to
work best with my system.<br />
<br />
Remember, race day is <i>not</i> the day to experiment with this! Make sure you have your fuel intake worked out before race day!<br />
<br />
<b>7. The Right Fit</b><br />
So one thing that 13.1 miles never taught me that 26.2 miles did for sure was that $17 socks are actually an important investment. For <i>years</i> I've been running in my <a href="http://www.amazon.com/ASICS-Womens-Cushion-Small-Knockout/dp/B00NQYX9BE/ref=sr_1_1?s=sporting-goods&ie=UTF8&qid=1449517739&sr=1-1&keywords=asics+socks+women" target="_blank">Asics Cushion Socks</a> in the Highlighter pack because when you're running, the brighter the better, and these socks are sooooo comfy they're like wearing slippers.<br />
<br />
With 26.2 miles I discovered that those socks were not going to work as I had several training runs where my sweat-soaked sock got pulled down by my sweat-soaked shoe! Not a good combo! I ended up swapping to <a href="http://feeturesrunning.com/index.php/shop-by-product-2/light-cushion" target="_blank">Feetures! Light Cushion running socks</a> after trying out a pair that I had picked up in my goodie bag at a Ladies' Night event at my local running store. I prefer the merino blends - because I've started wearing them year round! - and they feel a little more cushion-y, but the regulars are good too.<br />
<br />
<b>8. It's All in Your Head</b><br />
Running 26.2 miles is a lot harder mentally than running 13.1. I remember when I first started running true distance (greater than 6 miles in my world), I had a serious paradigm shift after I made it through my first 10 mile run. 13.1 seemed very attainable. Up until I exceeded 18 miles for my marathon training, it was still a very reasonable number in my mind.<br />
<br />
After mile 18 I ran into a problem.<br />
<br />
Just like those running memes that you see all over the place which are along the lines of a runner's inner conversation, this is how my distance conversation goes for myself:<br />
<br />
"Shoot, I've only gone one mile. Twelve to go."<br />
<br />
"Well, I'm really doing an out-an-back so it's really only 6 miles to the turnaround and since I've gone one already it's only 5 miles. I can totally do 5 miles."<br />
<br />
"<i>Actually</i>, since I've gone 1 mile, it's only 2 miles until I get to eat more shot bloks and I <i>love </i>snacks. Wow, 2 miles is totally easy. I can do 2 miles."<br />
<br />
And all of a sudden, my crazy runner brain has pared 12 miles down to 2 miles. Which anyone can do 2 miles, right?<br />
<br />
Well with 18+ miles you start thinking, wow, I've gone 15 miles and I still have <i>five more to go</i>. I've been running for over two hours and I still have <i>almost another hour of running left.</i> Suddenly, a marathon doesn't seem so attainable.<br />
<br />
My friend who's an ultra-marathoner always tells me to break it down by snack breaks, and take it three miles at a time, but having only done one of these suckers, I wasn't able to wrap my little runner brain around that. A marathon was much more mentally challenging for me than a half marathon ever was.<br />
<br />
<b>9. You're Crazy</b><br />
The disbelief of people around you when you tell them that you're running a marathon is astonishing. At least with many of the folks I encounter. Half marathons seem to be all the rage these days, and while you still get the occasional "I could never do that," I definitely don't get it as often as you'd think. A marathon distance pushed responses to my statements from "Wow, she's done a lot of half marathons" to "Oh my god, are you insane?"<br />
<br />
It's a long long way.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<b>10. Finisher</b><br />
By now, it's been a solid three months since my marathon and I've blocked out a lot of the agony. To the point where running another one sounds like a potentially good idea. But there was a strong sense of success and contentment once I finished my race that I never get with my half marathons. I mean, I always feel successful with my half marathons, but the contentment of running 26.2 miles was a whole new experience beyond your standard "runners' high."<br />
<br />
It's a life experience that I'll always treasure and never regret. And I'll never say never to another one.<br />
<br />
<br />
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kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-89044751616583733192015-10-03T11:21:00.001-07:002015-10-03T11:21:47.807-07:00Ten Things I Learned While Running A Marathon: Part II finished a marathon! Whoohoo! On September 6th, 2015, I ran my
first full marathon. 26.2 grueling miles. Here are TEN THINGS I LEARNED
WHILE RUNNING A MARATHON (PART I):<br />
<br />
<b>1. Training is more of a commitment than the race</b><br />
And
what I mean by that is that in my training to get to the mileage point I
needed in order to feel comfortable going into the race, I ran big runs
of 18, 20, 22, 24, 26, and then another 24 miles. For someone at an 11
to 11:30 minute per mile as I was, that's a 3.5 hour PLUS commitment on a
weekly basis. For six weeks. So for every week for six weeks I had to
find four hours in my busy schedule to run...before it got to be 80
degrees, and since 90 was the running temp for much of our high desert
summer, that meant 5:30 and 6 AM start times.<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>2. You're not the only one racing with you, you're just the only one running</b><br />
By
this, I mean, who is awake when you're awake and pounding the pavement
to chat with you on the phone as you're bitching and whining and
hurting. Who is willing to stay on the phone with you for an hour or so
to get you through the next six, eight, or ten miles. I spent a lot of
time on the phone with my parents and with my friend Taran. Taran
because she is three hours ahead and it was a decent hour, and my
parents because by the time I was truly dying, they were usually awake
(around 7 or 7:30AM). I also got a chance to check in with other people
who I don't normally, however, and that was a true gift. There were a
number of people who ran a couple miles with me here and there - safely
nestled in my ear, connected through the miracle of cellular service.<br />
<b> </b><br />
By
this though, I also mean the day of the race. My goal was 4 hours and
45 minutes. In my mind, that meant my CREW would see me off, have
breakfast, meet me mid-point, and then see me at the finish. They
probably thought that initially too.<br />
<br />
The night before,
however, husband's godmother innocently asked, "well have you thought
out your checkpoints and where you are going to see her?" That lead to
an in-depth poring over the course map where we determined that
spectators could see their runners at miles 5.5 and 9 quite easily, as
well as check in at mile 13 as the race crisscrossed the start/finish
area in a figure eight. I declaimed what I thought my pace would be and
we mapped out times for my CREW to be present...giving them leisurely
stops about an hour in (5.5 miles), a half hour waiting game where they
had to cross the street to see me as I looped three and a half miles to
mile 9, and of course, another hour-ish until I made it halfway.<br />
<br />
The
only problem with our strategy, however, is that I took off from the
start line in the 30 degree weather with energy to burn (more on that
later) and muscles that were too frozen to know what was happening.
Instead of an 11 minute pace, I clocked sub-tens for the first couple
miles and finally texted my CREW via Siri that I was ahead of schedule.<br />
<br />
Needless
to say, they missed me at mile 5.5 as I arrived almost ten minutes
before I said I would - by the time they called to see where I was, I
was rounding off the end of mile six. But they scrambled and saw me at
mile 9, caught me at mile 13, and then my husband's god-sister valiantly
offered to pace me for a mile or so at mile 14, which was wonderful and
then again at mile 22-24, which was much needed. My family and Tyler's
godfamily hip-hopped the remainder of the course (easily once they
caught on to my speedy pace), and were the most supportive team ever.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKXcH06114NbsptrWaL-9uwrY-aTP_jwGT-_l1zJyn9ihnCEmExcr1TpErikUhmNHDzH7C2fpObac5bHZN1JkGQ6siJ-cebPAxn_mYOMx9_w0i7FBsCVUx6zkonOKepCNsPbCNFuPEjjl/s1600/IMG_2693.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglKXcH06114NbsptrWaL-9uwrY-aTP_jwGT-_l1zJyn9ihnCEmExcr1TpErikUhmNHDzH7C2fpObac5bHZN1JkGQ6siJ-cebPAxn_mYOMx9_w0i7FBsCVUx6zkonOKepCNsPbCNFuPEjjl/s400/IMG_2693.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My
mom and dad with Banyan and Mom's new corgi puppy, Scout. Best crew
ever, though the pups got a little tired of waiting around for everyone.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
So you're not the only one running, you're just the legs of the whole operation. <i>Everyone</i> needed a nap by the time we were done!<br />
<br />
<b>3. Dress to Impress</b><br />
So
this summer in Bend was abnormally warm, for the first time in the five
years since we moved here, we invested in an A/C unit. Mostly because
we were scared of killing the animals because it was so hot, though it
did have the side benefit of helping us humans sleep easier. <b> </b>Bearing
that in mind, I tried to be as wise with my training runs as humanly
possible, rising at a ridiculous hour in order to be done before the
temps elevated much over 75 degrees. After my race in June that ended in
85 degree heat (and later got to the high 90s), I wasn't interested in
repeating the experience.<br />
<br />
True to form though, Bend
nights finally got cold again, and we had the first chilly weather of
the season for Labor Day weekend, when I had my race. It was TWENTY
EIGHT degrees when I started my race.<br />
<br />
When you run a
half marathon, there isn't a whole lot of need to have variegated gear
to account for changing weather. You're just not running <i>that</i>
long. For my marathon, the temp was supposed to go from 28 degrees to 65
degrees in the ~5 hours I would be running. Think: down vest to tank
top weather. This was a whole new ballpark for me as I don't own running
sleeves and didn't own cold-to-hot headwear (I love my new Buff
headband and wear it <i>constantly</i>). I started in my Northface
jacket over a slimmer zip up sweater that I could shed while running,
but decided against the heavier jacket minutes before the start of the
race and just started in the zip up. I tucked my red, chilly fingers in
the sleeves of the jacket and was happy I wore thicker running pants
than I otherwise would have.<br />
<br />
But sure enough, by mile
13, the jacket was gone (handed off to my CREW) and the headband not
quite so firmly over my ears, and I was toasty and heated in a tank top!
It's a different sort of animal, dressing for a marathon...<br />
<br />
<b>4. Too Much of a Good Thing</b><br />
So you know how it's not usually until <i>after</i>
the fact that everyone tells you the stuff they assumed you knew?
Apparently many hobby-marathoners keep their high mileage (20+ miles)
runs to two or three<b> </b>at the most. I did FIVE and ran into a wall.
A very hard wall made out of thyroid fun, exhaustion, nausea, and some
dizziness. "Overtraining," friends told me. "Right," I scoffed. And then
runner friends mentioned the aforementioned fun fact about high mileage
runs. Thanks, guys.<br />
<br />
The one advantage to overtraining
is that it literally forced me to taper for a solid two weeks. So while
I was nervous on race day, because I hadn't done more than 10 miles in a
row since two and a half weeks prior, I had energy to burn and that
kept my little legs pumping and made it impossible to slow myself down
to where I "thought" I should be! I finished ten minutes ahead of my
goal, and was running solid ten minute miles until mile 18, when I was
training at 11+ minute miles.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrekQkKJTdvLeMPAeRuzJVT28oivASZ6IcWfTQOawWNWUhgbIEBznJbsg1HejV8UzWnvBoi_69FwqC-Y2RMN025nqaNfGdHx0Hpq7Rk_-y5DX2_pG1BG_HF9FeeRmErKf-HSqN1MF2lgH/s1600/IMG_2691.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkrekQkKJTdvLeMPAeRuzJVT28oivASZ6IcWfTQOawWNWUhgbIEBznJbsg1HejV8UzWnvBoi_69FwqC-Y2RMN025nqaNfGdHx0Hpq7Rk_-y5DX2_pG1BG_HF9FeeRmErKf-HSqN1MF2lgH/s400/IMG_2691.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished with a mileage pace 45 seconds per mile faster than my training runs!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b>5. Music to Move To</b><br />
What you don't realize is <i>how much time</i> you'll spend just <i>running</i>.
Ugh. Lots. For my race I managed to get through with a pre-planned
playlist: don't guess with this! I sat down and spent a couple hours
putting together a playlist just for my race. With my half marathons, I
usually just skip around my entire library as necessary or I use
RockMyRun - a very cool running playlist app with pre-mixed playlists.
Don't screw around with a full marathon though.<br />
<br />
For my training runs, I made a lot of phone calls. Lots.<br />
<br />
And listened to a couple books on tape.<br />
<br />
So
for my actual race, I did have a book on tape queued just in case, but
between my music and my crew, I never actually needed it! There's
something to be said for knowing you're going to see friendly cheering
faces every four or five miles.<br />
<br />
<br />
Soooo this post is now really long, so you'll just have to wait til the next one for the remaining things I learned!<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kckchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-90344963868583231222015-09-29T06:51:00.000-07:002015-09-29T06:51:14.407-07:00Not Even Gonna Say ItI'm not even gonna say it: I have all these wonderful intentions of writing and then it gets lost by the wayside in my busy busy life.<br />
<br />
The irony of my 25-30 hour/week job is that I only work that much so that I will supposedly have <i>time</i>. To spend with my furry animals, to spend with my husband, to go running, and read, and draw.<br />
<br />
I feel like I need to show you my week last week...<br />
<br />
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<br />
On Wednesday I literally had <i>no</i> time for myself. And it was my day off! I started my day at 6 because I just don't have time to sleep. I did some work for a client before husband and I hustled off to look at a house (we're looking to buy...more on that later), at 8AM. From there, I rushed off to a meeting in town at 9AM. That meeting went until about 10:30AM which is perfect because I had to fly off to a dermatologist appointment on the other side of town at 11AM (annual mole check, you're welcome, Mom). I rushed home after that appointment around 12:15 and had just enough time to meet my client for her chalkboard pickup at 12:30. From 12:30 to about 3, I did some more client work, websites, sketches and such. Then I put on my running clothes and Jamie made it over to my house to go for a little (3 mile) run.<br />
<br />
After we get organized for that it's about 3:15 and then by the time we're done chatting and she leaves it's 4:15. I have 20 minutes to hop in the shower so I'm not super stinky for acupuncture! Rush off to that appointment, which I admit, is incredibly relaxing so we could call that "me" time if you'd like. And then from there I have to drive straight to <i>another</i> meeting at 6:15. I got home around 8:30pm and promptly fell into bed.<br />
<br />
Not to mention the bland diet I had to be on all day that day for a medical test I had to do on Thursday morning. Chicken and rice all day, baby!<br />
<br />
Sigh.<br />
<br />
At least you know I mean well.<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kckchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-30469529126409717602015-07-29T06:09:00.000-07:002015-07-29T06:09:01.013-07:00Day 31You really have a moment of "Oh, it's over?" on the morning of Day 31. Not that you can actually go out and eat whatever you want, because the reintroduction process takes about 2 weeks, but while grocery shopping last night and scouring the labels as I've been required to do for the last 30 days, I had the jolting realization that I wouldn't <i>have</i> to today.<br />
<br />
The Whole30. Man, that's been an experience.<br />
<br />
Do I feel better? Yes. Is it this magicalwonderfulsuperfragillisticcureall that it's advertised as? No. "Tiger blood" never showed up. I got a little perkier around day 23, but not the "advertised" day 16. Granted, with Hashimoto's they did say it might take longer to see results...and the last few days I've recognized the deep, bone-weariness of a thyroid imbalance (hence the blood test I'm going to have done this morning so that they can adjust my medication)...so it's a difficult thing to call.<br />
<br />
Am I glad I've done it?<br />
<br />
Yes.<br />
<br />
Would I do it again?<br />
<br />
Probably.<br />
<br />
Has it changed how I feel about certain foods?<br />
<br />
Definitely.<br />
<br />
If I knew then what I know now, would I still do it?<br />
<br />
Assuredly.<br />
<br />
Would I recommend it to anyone interested?<br />
<br />
Yes! <br />
<br />
They ask you to look at the foods that you thought you'd miss, or that you used to eat regularly and if you don't miss them at all, avoid reintroducing them or reintroduce them but eat sparingly in the future. Surprisingly, I'm not so sad about yogurt and cheese. Ice cream, yes, but yogurt and cheese? Not so much. Will I avoid brie in the future? No, but who can? Will I buy string cheese and daily yogurt any more? Not for a while anyways, unless my husband wants them. I also surprisingly don't miss pasta all that much. Seeing as it was a major staple in my life, I never once was like, "I <i>need </i>pasta" Cereal though, man oh man. I bought non-gluten grained granola last night so I can have some on Friday instead of waiting until next week (part of that darned reintroduction). And I do miss tortillas, but mostly in the "I could really go for a burrito right now" sort of way. The only bread I miss is sourdough, and with my new sourdough starter, maybe I'll be able to make it myself in the future.<br />
<br />
One thing I've learned from doing the Whole30, and I'm sure everyone who has done it has learned something similar: there are a lot of foods that I've been eating that I don't really care to eat anymore. And I like the anti-inflammatory results so much that I will limit my sugar intake moving forward, avoid processed and unnecessary added sugars (though more when it's convenient...I still refuse to pay $5 for lunch meat, though I don't eat a whole lot of that so not so much a concern), and lessen my gluten intake to special occasions.<br />
<br />
Will all of this change come pumpkin spice latte season? Probably, but the knowledge that I can reset and remind myself that whole eating is not the end of the world is a nice little thing to have tucked in my pocket.<br />
<br />
One thing I will say about eating this way, however, is that my grocery bill has at least doubled, though I would be unsurprised if it hasn't tripled. This is not a cheaper way of living, for sure.<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kckchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-5835747359956504292015-07-08T16:45:00.002-07:002015-07-08T16:45:47.513-07:00Yummy Running Snacks - That are Whole30 Compliant!In my desperation to find a snack that I could make or buy that would truck my through my 15 mile run tomorrow, I stumbled upon a tasty recipe for "No Bake Coconut Date Energy Bites" on www.sweetphi.com.<br />
<br />
I modified it and now it's a delicious, chocolatey burst of caffeine and energy perfect for my run tomorrow!<br />
<br />
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I used my handy food processor for maybe the fourth or fifth time since I received it as a gift at my wedding. Standard blade, yes please! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwzjRCxkVhvH4UTipvWG4yUUZZKf8JG99YxAmtBTTcyaqdlf3qIt7ILQeNct9lO4Fw2E0hDPT9F-L94S0zBzcOXIVmTFn5lEiHBIdU7j5HtDfTsYGa9FUsHOyg8Plcu98FPPT72SeWL4u0/s1600/IMG_2275.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwzjRCxkVhvH4UTipvWG4yUUZZKf8JG99YxAmtBTTcyaqdlf3qIt7ILQeNct9lO4Fw2E0hDPT9F-L94S0zBzcOXIVmTFn5lEiHBIdU7j5HtDfTsYGa9FUsHOyg8Plcu98FPPT72SeWL4u0/s400/IMG_2275.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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With my additions, the initial dough was a little wet, so I added a few more coconut flakes and it balled right up! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERddZQ7ERapp4xoY9yNG-3ItZDMrFRGtAUlyBBS4DPPBy9AnYULfrGl_5-LfZQtrNzK-NTSESvaqhW5KAE5PkxITRcAw6Y2I5RgRL_Vr6YvIlBUpC84xyZkWXxDF7V2ppua7C5Mid-itg/s1600/IMG_2276.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERddZQ7ERapp4xoY9yNG-3ItZDMrFRGtAUlyBBS4DPPBy9AnYULfrGl_5-LfZQtrNzK-NTSESvaqhW5KAE5PkxITRcAw6Y2I5RgRL_Vr6YvIlBUpC84xyZkWXxDF7V2ppua7C5Mid-itg/s400/IMG_2276.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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Now doesn't that look delicious? I made them a little bigger so I only have to unwrap one at each snack stop (every three miles) on my run.<br />
<br />
<i>Delicious Chocolatey No Bake Coconut Date Energy Bites</i><br />
Makes approximately 11 bites<br />
<i> </i><br />
1/3 cup cashews<br />
12 dates, pits removed - the original recipe called for medjool, but Fred Meyer only had one kind and it wasn't that...<br />
1/2 cup coconut, shredded, divided<br />
1 Tbsp. coconut oil<br />
1 1/2 Tbsp. coffee, room temperature or chilled - or H20, I need the caffeine boost when I'm booking!<br />
1 Tbsp. 100% unsweetened cocoa powder<br />
<br />
1. Pulse cashews in a food processor for 10 seconds.<br />
<br />
2. Add pitted dates, 1/4 cup coconut flakes + 1 Tbsp. coconut flakes, the coconut oil, cocoa powder, and coffee. Process for a minute or until the mixture comes together and no big nuts or dates remain. If too dry, add more coffee a tsp. at a time, if too wet, add coconut a Tbsp. at a time. <br />
<br />
3. With a spoon, scoop out approximately 1 Tbsp. of mixture and roll between hands to form a ball (I scooped probably a tablespoon and a half or more because I wanted a bigger fuel ball on my runs).<br />
<br />
4. Put remaining shredded coconut in a bowl and roll the balls in the coconut. Wrap in wax paper for easy carrying or put each one in a muffin liner and refrigerate for an hour before storing. <br />
<br />
Enjoy!<br />
<br />
Cheers,<br />
kckchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-69274639688022727382015-07-07T17:36:00.000-07:002015-07-07T17:36:05.984-07:00Doin' ItSo I started Whole30 on June 29th. I wanted to start the 28th, but needed the recovery carbs after my race. Here's some thoughts from my first couple days!<br />
<br />
<b>June 30th, </b><br />
<b>8:20 AM</b><br />
24 hours without sugar and it's all I think about. I'm so dramatically starved for it that I'm seriously wishing husband steps away from the kitchen long enough that I can scoop a funfetti cupcake out of the garbage.<b> </b><br />
<br />
<b>9:46 AM</b><br />
Dragging. When did I get tired? I was plenty perky this morning (albeit craving the sugar). I was good dancing around the kitchen and making my stupid everything-free lunch...<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>11:13 AM</b><br />
Company decides to buy us lunch, today of all days. And it's burritos! Oh the horror. I miss beans. And tortillas. And cheese...oh man, cheese... Stay strong, no breaking. It hasn't even been 48 hours...<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>4:28 PM</b><br />
Feeling perky. That salad wasn't so terrible and I'm thinking about the Larabar I get to eat before I go to ultimate frisbee practice. Which I know breaks the "craving sweets" rule, but it's day two. Rome wasn't built in a day. Maybe this diet isn't so bad.<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>July 1st,</b><br />
<b>10:17 AM</b><br />
At the grocery store. They don't have the Larabar flavor that I like and so many of the damned things have chocolate in them. I miss chocolate. Grocery store on day three is a terrible idea, especially with the end caps of Oreos, gummy bears, marshmallows and Hershey's. I would kill for chocolate right now. Doesn't help that I woke up with a headache and a sour stomach.<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>4:25 PM</b><br />
Starving. I apparently can't get enough to eat...I'm craving everything.<br />
<b> </b><br />
It's now been nine days, and some cravings have abated. I'm only thinking about sugar two or three times a day rather than every waking moment. I'm glad it's summer and that the fruit is so delicious this season though! On my run this morning I clocked almost 12 minute miles though, <b></b>so my body hasn't adjusted yet. Soooo slow but at least I made it all five miles!<br />
<br />
Stay tuned because I had an adventure into Whole30 compliant energy bites in preparation for my run on Thursday (15 miles and ShotBloks are not compliant! Gotta get my snacks in!)...they're delicious and super easy!kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-12039672278831975092015-06-24T14:12:00.003-07:002015-06-24T14:12:38.889-07:00Whole30So there's this crazy thing that I think I can do: it's called Whole30. I mean, if a girl can run a half marathon 11 times, she can cut out alcohol, grain, sugar, dairy, and legumes for 30 days right?<br />
<br />
One can only hope. <br />
<br />
This is based on a recommendation from several people for many reasons: it's an anti-inflammatory diet, which will help with my joint pain and back pain, it can help with my Hashimoto's and possibly hurry the balance of that damned organ, and it can help me figure out if I'm actually allergic to something without having to pay $500 for the test...to name a few of them.<br />
<br />
Today, when first attempting to grocery shop for this crazy diet - as my start date is Sunday after my race and I want to make sure that I'm stocked and ready so there's no slips on day 1 - I was surprised at the fact that most deli meat, or at least the cheap stuff I'm used to buying, <i>all has sugar in it.</i> WTF? It's meat, right?<br />
<br />
Sigh. Scratch that easy go-to off my list. I'm not paying $4.50 for half as much as I usually get for $3.99. Ask me again in week 2.<br />
<br />
Apparently I'm gonna need to start eating eggs like it's my job to get the proteins and carbs I need with my exercise routine.<br />
<br />
The intro to both the books I have in my possession regarding this diet start with "This is. Not. Hard." They go on to detail that giving birth is hard, coming back from Iraq missing a limb is hard, and dealing with a life-threatening, incurable disease is hard, but giving up sugar is not hard.<br />
<br />
Okay, fine. I get it, not hard. But could they make the shopping for it easier? Thankssomuch. <br />
<br />
I'll keep you updated on how things go. Also, I've signed up for NWM2015 in SF. And am 90% sure I'm going to do a marathon in September.<br />
<br />
So much for only doing two races this year: race number one of three is on Saturday!<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kc kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-49635053048322899072015-06-15T09:29:00.000-07:002015-06-15T09:29:00.735-07:00We're LostOne of the many things runners - long distance runners anyways - will grudgingly admit to, is that when your watch says .5 or .6 or .7...it's hard not to just finish that one last mile. Also, when we've committed to 12 miles, if we have managed to cover more than half the distance, we are now fully committed to a full 12 miles. 11.5 won't do, 11 miles isn't good enough, forget about 11.98, it ain't gonna happen. It's gotta be 12.<br />
<br />
Saturday night, when everyone else was going to the Rodeo in Sisters, enjoying the last of the heat for the day, BBQ'ing and having fun, Jamie and I scheduled our big run for the day.<br />
<br />
We have a half marathon in two weeks so this is the last "big" run until the race. We were supposed to end up doing 14 miles the day of my sister's wedding, but I was at my sister's wedding (duh) and Jamie thought running 14 miles was a terrible idea. I just wanted to see if I could do it. You know, a baby step towards the full I'm 90% sure I'm going to do in early September.<br />
<br />
My new job is exactly 2 miles from Jamie's house, so to get my extra mileage in, I ran over to meet her. I was on board and idealistic for my 14 miler, and Jamie was solidly committed to 12 miles. Three miles in (so five for me), Jamie has an equipment crisis and we stand in the road considering calling her husband to come get her to fix it while I ran on and had her meet me down the road.<br />
<br />
He was at least 20 minutes out.<br />
<br />
"My work is just down the road, we could go there." I suggested. I had run the 2 miles to her house and then we turned around and retraced my steps: at this point we were a mile away from my work. "It's 20 minutes if we walk it, and if we can manage a jog it's less. We'd get there before he could get here."<br />
<br />
"You're okay with that? I feel bad..." she said. I told her no worries, but I wasn't clocking anything we were walking for that mile. Breaks were one thing, walking that far on purpose is quite another. So we trekked the mile back to work, jogging when possible, but mostly walking.<br />
<br />
Crisis averted, we turned around again. We decided to do an out and back, 4.5 miles out, turn around and run back to my car in the parking lot at work, where I would give her a ride back to her house.<br />
<br />
Mile nine was the longest mile I've ever run in my life. It was never ending. We finally made it to the turnaround at mile ten (Jamie's mile 8) and practically cheered. Okay, we thought, four more miles and we're golden.<br />
<br />
A mile and a half down the road we passed a turn off and had a brief argument.<br />
<br />
"I thought we turned here?" I said.<br />
<br />
"No, no, it's down the road," Jamie insisted.<br />
<br />
"Should we get out the map on our phones?" I asked, unconvinced.<br />
<br />
"No, I know exactly where we are. Collins [the road we're on] turns into Pinehurst [the road the distillery is on], we already made the turn." Jamie countered.<br />
<br />
Dubious, but aware that my sense of direction is severely lacking, and knowing that my thyroid disorder has been giving me some very interesting short-term memory situations, I agreed and we ran on.<br />
<br />
Three quarters of a mile later:<br />
"Okay, Jamie, I definitely do not remember that flag," I said as we trotted past a huge, festive, bunting banner strung on a gate. "We are going the wrong way."<br />
<br />
"I don't remember it either, but I'm pretty sure that's our turn off up there." She said, unconvincingly.<br />
<br />
"No way," I disagreed and got the phone out. Sure enough, we had missed our turn. Going back would have taken longer at that point, so we continued on. We reached the 14 mile marker (her 12 mile marker) and we checked the map again. One mile to the distillery from where we were. Jamie wanted to call her husband to come get us, I bullied her into running the last mile.<br />
<br />
"By the time he gets in the car and finds us, we could have just run the mile, between the traffic from the rodeo and the light," I pointed out, as it was now 9 PM and while not dark, it was definitely not light anymore. She agreed grudgingly.<br />
<br />
I ran 15.03 miles on Saturday night. It took me 2 hours and 48 minutes, averaging an 11:14 mile. It's been two days and my knees are still killing me.<br />
<br />
I can't wait to do it again.<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kckchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-55537909924301108782015-06-14T09:13:00.003-07:002015-06-14T09:13:48.763-07:00Since JanuarySo I'm pretty sure this has officially been the longest hiatus from blogging that I've ever done. And for that, I'm sorry.<br />
<br />
Not that more than one or two people read my words or look at what I've said, but still. Sorry.<br />
<br />
It's been a long six months.<br />
<br />
I was diagnosed with a thyroid autoimmune disorder Hashimodo's in February, and the exhaustion, stress, and subsequent doctor's visits with that have made the very-real fatigue symptom that accompanies this disorder that much harder.<br />
<br />
I finally said, "Uncle" with my job at the vineyard, which while I was loving the work, was eating me alive. Since leaving, that position has been split into two full time positions, rather than just one person that it had been (me). Granted, I had been lobbying for that second body since about January, having recognized the need, and my boss had finally found someone she felt was qualified who was interested in the position the week before I put in my notice, but still. That tells you how much I was working! Don't get me wrong though, I loved the job, but when I was offered a job at a local distillery, 30 minutes <i>closer</i> to home, with better pay, I couldn't help but say yes.<br />
<br />
And running.<br />
<br />
Oh the angst.<br />
<br />
You would think that I would have learned to be kinder to myself with the back injury situation and subsequent recovery time. Remember all of those flowery posts about how wonderful it was to be able to run at all?<br />
<br />
Ha.<br />
<br />
Back to the mindset of "if I'm not doing it all, I'm failing at life."<br />
<br />
A friend recently suggested that I work on changing my frame of mind. Instead of mentally berating myself, and/or having to grant myself "permission" to take a day off from go-go-go, I should instead celebrate what I did manage to get done.<br />
<br />
For example: on Wednesday, my back was acting up and I was just <i>tired</i>. We had been in California for my sister's wedding for a week, with much travel involved, as we had done a quick trip to SF for a Giants game before heading up the coast to Arcata. We drove back late Sunday night and then I worked (hard) all day Monday and Tuesday. So Wednesday, I was justifiably tired. So I gave myself "permission" to skip my run that day, and then mentally agonized and felt guilty all day at how slothful and lazy I was and should have just gone.<br />
<br />
Except I still managed to walk the dog. Go grocery shopping. Finish the laundry. Contact several clients and finish sketches for several contracts for Chalked. Mow the lawn. Clean the house.<br />
<br />
I wasn't exactly lying around.<br />
<br />
I'm sure exercise guilt is a cultural phenomenon, especially with the rise of "fitspiration," crossfit, and paleo. But I didn't realize how bad it had gotten in myself until my friend pointed it out.<br />
<br />
"You had a full, productive day, and on top of your thyroid issues, travel-weariness and general 'it's my weekend' mode, you still managed to get a bunch of physical stuff done. There's nothing you should be 'giving yourself a break' about. Instead, recognize that it's okay to take a day off from running and working out if you're legitimately tired and recognize that you still managed to do all of these other things. Hell, sometimes getting out of bed in the morning is a victory."<br />
<br />
So now I am going to try to focus - and use this blog to help me focus - on the things I've accomplished. Including exercise, eating, my business, etc. But even on the days where I should get a standing ovation for making it out of bed, I will make an effort to recognize that.<br />
<br />
Wish me luck.<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kckchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-19001212737721611082015-01-09T08:03:00.001-08:002015-01-09T08:03:19.636-08:00EmpowermentWith the New Year, and encouragement from new friends like my friend Taran, and from old friends like my friend Katie who runs Thrive Bend, I am making a conscious effort to recognize moments in my life that I feel empowered.<br />
<br />
You know, that delicious rush of "I got this." Adrenaline, warm tummy, full heart.<br />
<br />
I've been surprised so far and would like to share a couple with you:<br />
<br />
"Today I feel empowered because I stopped by the college to pick up a really really nice letter of recommendation and Jo at the front desk said it was great to see me and that I looked great. <br /><br />Feel confident and empowered leaving Kinko's because I got several tasks done and a couple that I had been unsure about taken care of easily.<br /><br />And I'm wearing my taking care of business boots and that always helps."<br />
<br />
And...<br />
<br />
"Today I felt empowered because I paid several bills and paid down the credit card. And Tyler and I worked a little harder than usual so I was able to even put a little away.<br /><br />Getting organized in the morning and revisiting what needs to get done relaxes me and makes me feel confident and empowered. Like I can handle today."<br />
<br />
It's not always the big achievements in life that make us feel empowered, and it's important to focus on the the things that make us happy and confident.<br />
<br />
A recent fellow blogger encouraged us to "be kind to ourselves." This is a more challenging task than most people realize, especially for those of us for whom self-kindness comes less naturally than self-criticism. It is natural human instinct to self-criticize...there is truth to the statement "we are our own worst critics." But self-kindness must come hand in hand with that.<br />
<br />
Recognize, the next time you look at a friend who you think is the best, most brilliant, most kind person in the world and consider that <i>she</i> might be a victim of constant self-criticism and severe lack of self-kindness. Make today random-acts-of-compliments day. Heck, make every day that, and make sure that when the thought occurs to you that hey, that person rocks, let them know.<br />
<br />
You might change their heart that day.<br />
<br />
You might make them feel empowered.<br />
<br />
In case you didn't notice, we're going a little more introspective these days. Hope you enjoy it.<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kc<br />
<br />
P.S. It's almost running season! Thinking about a FULL marathon this year...thoughts?kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-14520233573306583522014-12-29T07:00:00.000-08:002014-12-29T07:00:03.007-08:00New GoalsAs the new year approaches again, I take time to pause and consider. A lot has happened this year. Good things, really terrible things that made me feel small, insignificant and sad, and middling things. From the outside I accomplished a lot: finishing my MBA, running three half marathons, surviving a summer with barely seeing my husband, making it through the first year of marriage, starting a small business, changing jobs...<br />
<br />
Internally there's a lot of work that needs to be done.<br />
<br />
But it's a new year, and my focus needs to be doing things that make me happy, that benefit myself and my family, and finding my center again. I've felt off-balance for quite a while, and with the New Year I intend to re-focus and re-discover what I need to be doing.<br />
<br />
I already proved that "The Doctor Said I'm Never Running Again" wasn't true (and at the same time proved to myself that I'm not what I used to be in terms of not being able to <i>do</i> three half marathons without putting myself through unnecessary pain...), I've left the job that I never wanted in the first place, and left behind the job that I thought would be my saving grace from that other job, and now I'm in a place where I can do what I need to do to be happy.<br />
<br />
I need to remind myself what that looks like.<br />
<br />
So this year, that's what I'm doing.<br />
<br />
Oh, and work on posting more often.kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-27190962244848497332014-12-27T07:00:00.000-08:002014-12-27T07:00:06.079-08:00TimeThere are always little points in your life that you can point to and be like "There! <i>That</i> was what I was supposed to do!" Staying with the man who eventually became my husband when our relationship was new, long-distance, and stressful was one of those moments for me. Every time I went to turn away something deep and instinctual went "Nope, sorry, honey. I know it's not the easier route, but this is what you're supposed to do."<br />
<br />
Turns out that voice was right.<br />
<br />
I expected to have that sort of "come to Jesus" moment when I quit Verizon or when I moved to Bend or really a variety of other things. Were they bad decisions? No, they just didn't have that primordial affirmation that <i>yes, this is right</i>. I believe in a higher power that rarely interferes but will intervene when the choice you are trying to make will affect something bigger and more important.<br />
<br />
Maybe my marriage was that bigger thing, maybe not, but I love that I have such a wonderful, affirming man in my life who truly believes that I deserve the world -- even on days when I'm a whiny, bitchy, nagging pain in the ass. Damn it, now I'm welling up.<br />
<br />
I had that moment recently, though. And the affirmations of it since then. So we will see where it leads us.<br />
<br />
On a Thursday morning in August, I'd had it up to here with a job that I had grabbed like a lifeline to sanity seven months ago. It had brought me peace, better hours, and more time with those I love. It also brought me to a place where I understood that it's okay to want to be doing something you at least <i>like</i> most of the time, as freelance work took me more and more away from being mentally present at the job I was holding like a good little nine-to-fiver. A not-so-unusually-critical day prior, with minor meltdowns from people who should know better and the first respectful, adult conversation I'd had about the job since I started the job made me go, "Wait. Why am I here?"<br />
<br />
That stupid voice on the inside nodded sagely.<br />
<br />
I sent a text to my husband, asking how he would feel if I told them "So long and thanks for all the fish" and went to California for a long weekend.<br />
<br />
"Do it, it doesn't affect me," he said.<br />
<br />
"I don't think you read that message properly," I replied, after calming my pounding heart and trying to figure out if he was serious. "I'm asking if you would be okay if I quit my job."<br />
<br />
The man replied with a quote from an email I sent him recently about feeling trapped in a box of what I was "supposed" to be doing with my life and that I wanted for once to be irresponsible, take the leap and quit my job and face the world on the strength of knowing I will survive.<br />
<br />
His next question was "If not now, then when?"<br />
<br />
It's really annoying/wonderful/frustrating/amazing when my inner voice and my husband agree on things that I can't make up my mind about. I put in my notice the next day and it felt right. Then, I got sent home immediately after giving my two weeks in a "that's nice, too bad" sort of gesture, which added a brick of guilt to my heart. Like I had maybe done something wrong, not tried hard enough, not been good enough.<br />
<br />
I received a couple phone calls in the week following as I fled to San Luis Obispo for sun, relaxation, and visiting with friends I never get to see asking me to consider returning to the job. That added to the guilt and pressure and even though that deep, internal voice kept whispering, I became unsure.<br />
<br />
And then like a gift from God, I received a phone call from a client I had given up on who wanted to send me a check for a deposit for a job.<br />
<br />
I knew in that moment that I needed to follow what was in the process of hitting me over the head. Since then, I've found a job at a winery that lends me flexible hours, a sense of family, a calm for my panic-button-ohmygodI'mnotmakinganymoneywhatwillIdohowwillwesurvivewe'regonnabehomeless moments (because having a job that you can just go, okay, this week I'm gonna work a little extra and make a couple more bucks is really a nice feature, especially when you're finding out that entrepreneurial stuff is <i>far</i> from stable...which we knew...we just didn't...know), and I've found a little piece of happiness.<br />
<br />
For the first time in my life I get excited to talk about what I do for a living.<br />
<br />
For the first time in my life my only complaint about work is that while my boss is wonderful, understanding, sweet, respectful, and interested in what we have to say, her sense of organization is a tad different from mine and that overwhelms me some days.<br />
<br />
No yelling, no throwing phones, no saying I'm wrong or don't know what I'm talking about, no one telling me I'm doing it wrong and then repeating back to me what I just said as the right way to do something, no long hours...<br />
<br />
It's fantastic.<br />
<br />
Besides: <br />
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What's not to like?kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-146996262452625462014-06-30T06:46:00.000-07:002014-06-30T06:46:00.506-07:00Beer is Proof that God Loves UsMany would postulate that "beer is proof that God loves us." Now I don't know if that's true, but having a husband who likes a good cold one and living in...well...Bend, one has to think that there is some validity to the whole thing. (Bend has more breweries per capita than anywhere else...)<br />
<br />
So for Tyler's birthday, when he sweetly told me, "I want you to bake whatever cupcakes make you happy," I turned to good ol' Pinterest to find something manly and acceptable for summertime.<br />
<br />
The original recipe used either Blue Moon or Corona (with the appropriate citrus additions for each), but being a true Bendite, I quickly realized that I had no business baking beer cupcakes if it didn't involve local brew. I love Deschutes Brewery's seasonal additions of Twilight Summer Ale and River Ale, but while my favorite, River Ale, doesn't lend itself (at least to my perspective) to a dash of orange or lime, I thought Twilight would be delicious with a little citrus.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy2s3d3phQIklQfR6TmJjKLRiVAeRV23Vbdm-OeV4n9hIak8Dhid2U6c1w4kAhk4dclfHdej_2xJKEcEzrXIxqBMxIGYWCBozyh5Q7bL6b3SGV8GppOv0Zu-1E_deowb1DKQ3GrdPzgTq2/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy2s3d3phQIklQfR6TmJjKLRiVAeRV23Vbdm-OeV4n9hIak8Dhid2U6c1w4kAhk4dclfHdej_2xJKEcEzrXIxqBMxIGYWCBozyh5Q7bL6b3SGV8GppOv0Zu-1E_deowb1DKQ3GrdPzgTq2/s1600/photo+1.JPG" height="400" width="300" /> </a></div>
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They turned out spectacularly light and fluffy like a champagne cake, with a little caramelization (as said by one of Tyler's friends) on top from the brushed on-while-hot beer. The orange flavoring pretty much overwhelmed any beer taste for those who don't love beer, but for connoisseurs (not me) there were enough lingering hints to be decidedly thrilled.</div>
<br />
<br />
<b>Twilight Summer Ale Cupcakes</b><br />
<br />
<i>Ingredients for the cupcakes:</i><br />
3/4 c butter at room temp<br />
1 3/4 c sugar<br />
2 1/2 c flour<br />
2 tsp baking powder<br />
1/2 tsp salt<br />
3 eggs<br />
1 tsp vanilla<br />
1/2 tsp orange zest (if you use Corona use lime zest)<br />
1 c Twilight Summer Ale (or brew of choice that pairs well with orange or lime citrus)<br />
1/4 c milk<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">Directions</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Preheat
oven to 375 degrees and line 24 muffin tins with cupcake liners.–In a
medium-sized bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt.–In the bowl
of an electric mixer, beat together the butter and sugar until light and
fluffy, about 2-3 minutes.–Add eggs, beating after each addition then add the
vanilla and zest.–Combine milk and beer and alternatively add this mixture and
the flour mixture to the butter/sugar mixture with the mixer on low speed,
starting and ending with the flour.–Fill the cupcake liners 2/3 full and bake
for 18 minutes, or until cake tester comes out clean.–When cupcakes are done,
poke holes in the tops of the cupcakes with toothpicks and brush some beer on
each while still warm. </span></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><i>Ingredients for the citrus cream cheese frosting:</i></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">12 oz cream cheese, cold</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">6 tbsp butter, room temp</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">1 tbsp freshly squeezed orange or lime juice</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">1 tsp orange or lime zest</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">4 c powdered sugar</span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><i>Directions:</i></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Cream
together the cream cheese and butter in an electric mixer until smooth and
creamy, about 2-3 minutes. Add the citrus juice and zest and gradually add the
powdered sugar until well-combined. Beat until smooth for about 2 minutes. Load
frosting in a piping bag fit with a large star tip and pipe cupcake tops once
cooled. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">I had a small runny-ness issue with the frosting, but my cream cheese was almost room temp. I just added more powdered sugar and a tad more butter and it resolved the issue nicely. You could also chill it slightly if it is too runny out of the gate. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times;">Recipe yields 24 cupcakes. </span></span></span></span></span><i><span style="font-family: Times;"></span></i></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglTet-nzSb-M0jaYGh6uFjNbwE2ykZ557j8GGbmxjKUR3WXJ6x__kNFHmTFvnkiC09o9742b1Dk3k3zCQARjHx37N0onZUcLAXlXoFeTQ3xJLzDSa4m9sx6PCvUsNdcbFLzx7jjmGrweEv/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglTet-nzSb-M0jaYGh6uFjNbwE2ykZ557j8GGbmxjKUR3WXJ6x__kNFHmTFvnkiC09o9742b1Dk3k3zCQARjHx37N0onZUcLAXlXoFeTQ3xJLzDSa4m9sx6PCvUsNdcbFLzx7jjmGrweEv/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<br />
Do as us Bendites do and pair with a delicious local beer! Enjoy!<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kckchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-49652290641160649862014-06-27T06:33:00.001-07:002014-06-27T06:33:50.024-07:00TOMORROWTomorrow is my EIGHTH half marathon! After a tumultuous couple weeks I am so so so excited to put my head down and power through like I know I can.<br />
<br />
I know we discussed my possible ninth and tenth a little while ago, but I'm officially signed up for them now (and they're different than what I had planned)! I'll be running number 9 at the end of August, again in Sunriver for the Sunriver Marathon. The Sunriver Marathon weekend is something to aspire to...it attracts a lot of ultramarathoners and hard core runners because (a) it supports a good cause in gorgeous Sunriver (the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society) and (b) it offers a <i>challenge race</i> that you can sign up for. The challenge is: do a half one day and a full the next or visa versa!<br />
<br />
Maybe some day, but I'm not that crazy yet.<br />
<br />
It sounds badass though, doesn't it?<br />
<br />
In the middle of September one of my inspire-rs for running is coming to stay with us as she runs the Flagstaff 50k, which is one of the most brutal races in the Pacific Northwest. I was told last year that the Down and Dirty Half that I did was tied with its sister race the Dirty Half and second only to the Flagstaff 50k for brutal terrain. I could be wrong, but that was what I was told. I just know there's lots of <i>up</i>.<br />
<br />
Bendite runners and race coordinators have an obsession with running <i>up</i> the stupid mountain. <br />
<br />
So I'll be CREWing for her (or at least cheering her on), which should be fun. I wish my lovely friend was here to come play too!<br />
<br />
My tenth half will be in celebration for my birthday at the beginning of November. Last year, my birthday was celebrated with too much hangover, and as I enjoy having a little fun, I'd rather have fun running than have fun drinking like I'm 21. So I took matters into my own hands, and a dear friend who was one of my bridesmaids is coming up to Bend to run with me, which will be so fun!<br />
<br />
Next year I'd like to do a full, simply to do one, and cut back on the number of races because I'll be busy with my wonderful little sister's wedding at the beginning of the summer. I will probably pick up the Dirty Half next year or Haulin' Aspen though...I love me a little trail running...simply for the strength of will that is required by it!<br />
<br />
Hope you all got your run on recently!<br />
<br />
Oh, and sneak preview of my next post! You know you want some...<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4CwjDo1WccRCC975N5mDId21DC98TUo8TAOrVDwBQ1k2JkNusQsnRqVQj-AV-KB9VWRbGnaJywFJZzgvUT15zL5H1HOKk4jGfs_ZJQtkg8yB8Rc8y9P0EnuB0106CKRzPTiO5851cxren/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4CwjDo1WccRCC975N5mDId21DC98TUo8TAOrVDwBQ1k2JkNusQsnRqVQj-AV-KB9VWRbGnaJywFJZzgvUT15zL5H1HOKk4jGfs_ZJQtkg8yB8Rc8y9P0EnuB0106CKRzPTiO5851cxren/s1600/photo+2.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<br />
Ciao,<br />
kckchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-92230597261614462442014-06-05T07:26:00.000-07:002014-06-05T07:26:00.039-07:00Cooking in the HeatI love my slow-cooker. I really, really do. I had some trials and a lot of error attempting some freezer meal crockpot recipes (they required a lot more babysitting than I expect out of a quick and dirty crockpot meal), and I've had some good luck with the easy stuff (shredded taco chicken anyone?).<br />
<br />
But it's ideal for the high desert heat when turning on the oven makes you sweat just thinking about it. And our little house doesn't take much to heat up, and it retains heat like a champ. Which is excellent during the looooong cold winters here, but it's a bitch in the summer when there's no AC.<br />
<br />
So I Googled "recipes for hot weather" and landed upon this <a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/too-hot-to-cook-22-recipes-for-152141" target="_blank">nifty website</a> that had lots of tasty recipes.<br />
<br />
Two nights ago, I tried the Slow-Cooker Lemon Garlic Chicken, with a little bit of trepidation because chicken can dry out so damn quick in the crockpot, and a <i>whole</i> chicken? Well...let's just say I've had my fair share of errors with cooking whole poultry.<br />
<br />
OH MY GOD. IT WAS SO GOOD.<br />
<br />
I didn't love the gravy, but Bethany liked it. It was a bit too sour-lemony for me — I like my gravy rich and salty.<br />
<br />
But when I pulled the chicken out of the crockpot for it's resting period I kept nibbling little pieces of meat that <i>literally slipped off the bone</i>, and it was so tender and juicy...oh my goodness.<br />
<br />
The only alterations I made to the recipe were that I used dried thyme because I didn't have fresh, and I was too lazy to run to the store for it. I also didn't add the rosemary because I didn't see that part until it was too late. I also used a whole can of chicken broth (15 oz or whatever) because I didn't want to waste it. I don't have any idea how that would have affected the end result. <br />
<br />
<span itemscope="" itemtype="http://schema.org/Recipe"></span><br />
<a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/recipe-slow-cooker-lemon-garlic-chicken-47100" target="_blank"><big><b itemprop="name">Slow-Cooker Lemon Garlic Chicken</b></big></a><br />
<i></i><br />
<div itemprop="recipeYield">
<i>Serves 2 to 4 with leftovers</i></div>
<div itemprop="recipeYield">
</div>
<span itemprop="ingredients">4 to 5 pound chicken</span><br />
<br />
<i>For the seasoning rub:</i><br />
3 garlic cloves, minced<br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">1 tablespoon olive oil</span><br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">1 teaspoon salt</span><br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">2 sprigs thyme, leaves stripped and minced</span><br />
<br />
<i>For the cooking liquid:</i><br />
2 lemons, quartered<br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">1 head garlic, cloves separated, but left in their skins</span><br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">2 chicken bouillon cubes or 1 teaspoon bouillon paste, divided (optional for richer flavor)</span><br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">2 sprigs thyme</span><br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">2 tablespoons soy sauce</span><br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">1/4 cup chicken broth</span><br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">2 sprigs rosemary</span><br />
<br />
<i>For the gravy:</i><br />
<span itemprop="ingredients">1/4 cup all-purpose flour</span><br />
<br />
Remove the bag of gizzards and discard (or reserve for stock). Pat the chicken dry with paper towels.<br />
Mix all the seasoning ingredients together in a bowl. Gently work
your fingers under the skin covering the breast meat and slide them back
and forth to separate the skin from the meat without tearing it. Scoop
up a dollop of the seasoning and work it under the skin covering both
breasts. Rub any remaining seasoning over the drumsticks and thighs.
Transfer the chicken to the slow cooker, breast-side up.<br />
<br />
Squeeze and reserve the juice from one of the lemons. Stuff the rinds
into the cavity of the chicken along with one whole bouillon cube and a
few garlic cloves. Crumble the other bouillon cube over the chicken and
rub it into the skin. Arrange the remaining lemon quarters, the rest of
garlic cloves, and the thyme around the chicken. Combine the reserved
lemon juice, the soy sauce, and the broth, and pour it over the chicken.<br />
<br />
Place the lid on the slow cooker and cook on high heat for 4 or for 6
hours (according to your slow-cooker's instructions and particular
settings). Thirty minutes or so before the time is done, add the
rosemary sprigs.<br />
<br />
Remove chicken from the slow-cooker and allow it to <a href="http://www.thekitchn.com/thekitchn/food-science/food-science-resting-meat-046678">rest on a baking sheet</a>, tented with foil, for about 20 minutes. The wings and drumsticks may fall away as you lift the chicken; this is normal.<br />
While the chicken is resting, strain the cooking liquid into a sauce
pan and bring to a rapid simmer. Scoop out a half cup of the liquid and
whisk it with the flour in a separate bowl. Slowly pour the flour slurry
back into the cooking liquid while whisking. Continue simmering and
whisking until the gravy thickens. Taste and add salt and pepper as
desired.<br />
<br />
When ready to serve, remove the skin from the chicken and discard.
Use your fingers to pull the meat away off the bones; it should come
away easily with gentle pressure or use a knife as needed. Serve the
breasts, thighs, and drumsticks right away and tear the remaining meat
into shreds for using in leftovers. Serve with the gravy alongside.<br />
<br />
So incredibly delicious. I highly recommend it. I'm going to try the Carnitas tonight, hopefully it will go as well as this! I'll let you know!<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kc kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-5000508374370402182014-06-04T07:14:00.000-07:002014-06-04T07:14:13.292-07:00National Running DayAfter being photobombed via text message this morning by the one, the only, the original lovely friend slash running buddy of images of the cardamom-laced cinnamon rolls she concocted, she proceeded to (unfairly) inform me that today was National Running Day.<br />
<br />
So not only do I not get homemade-by-Heather tastiness, I get informed that the day I thought I ought to blow off my run I really <i>should</i> go running since today is, apparently, <i>the</i> Day.<br />
<br />
Sigh.<br />
<br />
She loves that I get up early, by the way. Since she now lives a time zone (or two?) over and 7AM her time is 5AM my time so even when she's up and perky at a (semi) decent hour, she knows I'm up at an even earlier (stupid) hour and she can text me.<br />
<br />
So, in celebration of today, I shall detail my morning as it stands:<br />
<br />
I reset my 4AM alarm to 5AM because I didn't want to get up that
early. Because some mornings, it is in fact too early. I was taunted at 5:05AM by lovely friend's
delicious looking homemade ocean rolls via text, that time zones and
different states will prevent me from inhaling. I decided I'd rather keep
doing homework than go run when 6:15AM rolled around and I wasn't at a
good stopping point to stop to go run.<br />
<br />
So far, no run for me today and
it's supposed to be 80 degrees by my lunch break...which means I can either die a painful (hot) death and then crash and burn with heat-and-running-induced sleepiness all afternoon at work (which is unacceptable) or I can just not run until after work.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately (and fortunately) I'm taking a seminar this evening with another good friend (and early morning gym buddy...though at 4:30AM when I finally roll in, sleepy and cursing, she's been at it for about an hour) that I've been looking forward to for a long time. That goes until 8 PM, which, for those of you who don't know me, is <i>bedtime</i>.<br />
<br />
This girl needs her 8 hours of beauty rest, you know. Four o'clock in the stupid morning doesn't just happen naturally you know.<br />
<br />
Hopefully my day will be rocky enough that I'll be pumped for a quick run after that seminar and then I can go to bed a little later. We'll see. Do you think my 11-mile run this past weekend and yesterday can count as me celebrating? Every day is running day for this girl!<br />
<br />
How are <i>you</i> celebrating National Running Day?<br />
<br />
Ciao,<br />
kckchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-53466699567635200402014-05-23T05:21:00.000-07:002014-05-23T05:21:00.137-07:00Why I RunWhile I was thumping along the trail the other day, hating gravity,
feeling the tightness across my shoulders from a couple too many lat flies that
morning, and generally wishing for the run to be over and done with, I thought
about why I run. Because most people would say, “Well if you hate it so much,
why do you do it?”<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
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First of all, I’m a runner. That’s why I run. I can’t seem to <i>stop</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> running. It’s kind of a problem.</span></div>
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Then there’s the same old trend of well, I run because it makes me feel
good, I run because I can, I run because of…yadda yadda yadda.</div>
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I also run because I really really really like food. And if I can eat
that ice cream guilt-free because I did a five-miler that morning, then
awesome. </div>
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<br /></div>
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But ultimately, I run for the bragging rights. </div>
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That sounds really bad, I know, but I do. </div>
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Running is one of the few things in my life that a few misspoken words
can’t take from me. There is no denying the awesome that is the 91.7 miles that
the seven half marathons that I’ve done, not to mention the miles of training
that it took to get to them. No one can say a blithe comment that will erase
the memories of my legs burning, my lungs screaming, and the self-satisfaction
at the end of a long, hard run.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is no self-doubt when I run. </div>
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<br /></div>
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There is no judgment.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The road sure as hell doesn’t judge you. </div>
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<br /></div>
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With running, the only people who could possibly say belittling words
with any justifiable condescension are running more than I am and know just how
much it hurts and how hard you worked to earn those miles and would never ever
say those words to another long-distance runner. Those others who might try to
say belittling words about my running are easily countered with, “Really? How
far did you run today?” and abruptly, they no longer have an argument or an
insult.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Running is the only thing in my life that I don’t irrationally compare
myself to others with, that I don’t worry about, stress over, or put myself
down about.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Because anyone who can run is awesome. </div>
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<br /></div>
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(For the record, there are awesome people out there who can’t run to,
I’m not saying that.)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you ran that god-awful, painful, heart-wrenchingly wonderful 10k or
half marathon or full marathon…or yes, even that 5k…you get bragging rights.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And, honey? You look damn good with them too. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Because nothing says awesome like, “Look how far I ran today.”</div>
kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-79291984964176407202014-05-21T05:20:00.005-07:002014-05-21T05:20:46.519-07:00Cheap SportMy favorite running misnomer to look back on and laugh at is my dad
once telling me that running is the cheapest sport in the world.
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<br /></div>
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There is some truth to that, all you <i>need</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> is a decent pair of shoes, some shorts or sweatpants, and a t-shirt.
Especially if your jaunts are limited to a couple miles a week. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Running is a relatively easy sport to commit to. You don’t have to sign
up for any teams, pay any dues, or buy super expensive equipment to start out.
You can test the waters without blowing your budget. However, once the waters
are tested and confirmed, things get spendier.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
That’s neither here nor there though. This blog is advice for runners,
whether you are getting started or already are and just like reading things
like this like I do!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Find what makes it “easy” for you. Not long ago, there was one of those
forwarded messages that circulated among me and some runner friends that was “75
things a runner thinks while running.” The one the jibed most closely for me
was one that said something along the lines of “Shoot, I’ve gotta do 5 miles.
Well, that’s only 2.5 miles out and then turn around. And that’s really just a
little bit more than 2 miles. I can do two miles.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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For me, breaking down a run like that is what sometimes gets me through
it. If I’m doing an out and back, it’s very easy to think “well, if I keep
going for another half mile, then when I turn around I’ll get a whole extra
mile in…I can do a half mile, that’s not that far. That’s like 5 minutes of
running. I can run for another 5 minutes.” Bethany gets through it by going
faster – the whole: the faster I run the faster I’m done mentality. She usually
kicks that mantra into gear on hills and when she wants a snack.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I also find that with the gym in the mornings – more so than running,
because running I always need a little more morning prep time than weights – if
I sleep in my sports bra and workout top so all I have to do is roll out of bed
and put my pants and shoes on I manage to get myself out that door before my
brain has registered what I am doing. And then of course once I’m in the car on
the way to the gym and out of bed and all that, there’s really only one thing
to do: go to the gym and work out. I just make sure my headphones and water
bottle are prepped the night before and on the table so I can just grab them as
I go past, and then you’re there before your brain can get awake enough to say,
“But…!”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Just find what works for you and go with it.</div>
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<br /></div>
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My other advice is to find your fuel. The best I advice I ever got from
another runner was, “You know that nauseous feeling you keep complaining about?
That’s your body telling you its hungry.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Changed my life.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have runner friends that swear up, right, left and center that they
could not now nor ever eat (and sometimes drink!) on a run because it makes
them feel terrible. I have found that sometimes I don’t need fuel, but most
often, I do!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I’m faster,
peppier, and feel better with fuel!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The key is to find the one you like, however. Some people like the Jelly
Belly Go Beans or whatever those are, some people like Gu, some people like
powder in their water…I’m a ShotBlock girl. </div>
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<br /></div>
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It motivates me to know that I get a snack every couple miles, and it
helps that they’re fruity delicious goodness fruit snacks. That somehow only
taste good when I actually need them.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I just got Amy hooked on ShotBlocks, and she eats them differently that
I do – only chewing on a block or maybe two when I’m wolfing down three, but
she was surprised to notice what a difference it made to have a snack every
couple miles and have water that she carried with her. She’s told me several
times, “Oh man, I didn’t think I was going to make it through that run I was
having such an off day, and then I had a ShotBlock and all of a sudden…wow!
Makes so much difference!”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="NoSpacing">
Here's a good quote to live by:</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="NoSpacing">
<span style="background: white; color: #363636;">"You must
listen to your body. Run through annoyance, but not through pain."<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>-Dr. George Sheehan</em></span><em></em></div>
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<br /></div>
kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-58893607922453185252014-05-04T06:20:00.000-07:002014-05-04T06:20:00.752-07:00Inspired<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One of my favorite running quotes is:</span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><em><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; font-style: normal;"> “A fifteen minute mile is just as far </span></em></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><em><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; font-style: normal;">as an
8 minute mile.”</span></em></span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><em><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; font-style: normal;">I hope you feel inspired today :) Now go do some lunges!</span></em></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><em><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; font-style: normal;">Ciao,</span></em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><em><span style="background: none repeat scroll 0% 0% white; font-style: normal;">kc </span></em></span></span>
kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-42006252109298683142014-05-02T06:18:00.000-07:002014-05-02T06:18:00.086-07:00AdaptationThere’s an art form to living with another human being.
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I’m not talking roommates, though there’s an art form to that too, but
it can devolve into something a lot more passive aggressive and it’s perfectly
acceptable to just be living with a roommate for the convenience of cheaper
rent.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you have a crappy roommate you just hide the good kitchenware, put
your name on all your food, and keep your areas as clean as you prefer them. I
had a friend who had a “Caution” Tape area where he would stack his roommate’s
dirty dishes and they would just stay there for weeks and the rest of the
kitchen would be spotless.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Living with a human being who you care about, share a bed with, wear a
ring for…well, that is a different sort of art form.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We live in a world of “I can’t believe people used to…” and I think
premarital living arrangements are one of those. People still <i>do</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> wait to live together until after marriage, and holy
moly, more power to them. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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While we have never gone to bed without apologizing or at least cooling
down a bit, and while in the same house never made the other sleep in a
different bed (or on the couch), there were some times that I’m pretty sure the
only reason we stayed together was because we didn’t have to. I’m also pretty
sure that doesn’t sound the way I mean it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
With marriage comes a sense of permanence and inescapability. It’s not
a bad thing, and it soothes my soul and makes my husband more confident that I
won’t leave him if he has a particularly mephitic evening. But three, almost
four years ago when we first “shacked up” there were times that those
particular constraints would have driven us past our breaking point. By having
the opening we would never take, we learned and developed the art form of living
with each other.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The years that we have lived together we have learned to adapt. We have
learned to compromise. We have learned which battles are worth fighting and
which shall be left alone.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because I swear to God, I will never understand how the man can go to
the kitchen for a glass of water and manage to leave <i>every single cupboard
door open</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. But now, I follow behind him,
sometimes muttering quietly in aggravation, and close them all, because it’s
not worth the fight. It shouldn’t even be a fight, though it was on occasion. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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I promise this is not a negative post, though I’m realizing it might
sound that way. It was supposed to be humorous.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
There is an art form to living with another human being.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have learned that in the mornings I shouldn’t speak, or be too chirpy
at my husband. I’m a morning person once I’ve committed to being awake. He is
most decidedly a person who prefers sleeping to all else – I have never seen a
greater commitment to napping from anyone other than our cat. So in the mornings,
when he is forced to wakefulness, he is a silent, sullen, and easily-grumpified
person. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Kind of like me when someone is making me do an activity I don’t want
to do.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have learned that if he is in a mood, I must stifle my natural
instincts to discover, cheer up, and cure the mood. Me pestering him about it
or trying to fix it, nullify it, or cower away from it will simply make things
worse. I have to just act like nothing is wrong, go about my business, and wait
for him to move on and come to me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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He has learned that sometimes I just get grumpy. Sometimes I yell for
no apparent reason. Sometimes I’m just out of sorts and there’s probably a
reason but it’s not usually the reason I’m upset right now. He’s learned to hug
me when I’m ready, fuss me out of the mood, and let me cry.</div>
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<br /></div>
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He has learned that my cleaning is sporadic, spastic, and odd. I
believe in piles and in “from a speeding horse.” Meaning that so long as all
the clutter is neatly stacked in a place that makes sense and that the dirt and
dust is not obvious unless you’re looking for it, we’re good enough. Though I
will go into “deep cleaning mode” on occasion and usually out of
procrastination, and will deep clean random spots of the house and totally,
obliviously miss other spots.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I have learned that I should always try to sort the silverware when
putting it in the dishwasher, and he has learned to always try to remember the
toilet seat. But we no longer battle it out. We save our energy for fights that
actually mean something.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We are still learning every day, still growing together, and still both
have meltdowns and misunderstandings. But that is why living with someone who
you care about is its own particular art form.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
How have you adapted to the person in your life?</div>
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<br /></div>
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Ciao,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
kc </div>
kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-25973003472793339312014-04-29T06:17:00.001-07:002014-04-29T06:17:49.561-07:00My fuzzy boy, Banyan<style><!--
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One year and almost nine months ago the cutest and unexpectedly tiny
bundle of fur ever to walk the face of this planet was born. Well, maybe that’s
the “mommy” in me talking, but I think he’s the cutest. He’s since grown into
the cutest big bundle of fur every with plenty of personality. And we adore
him.</div>
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<br /></div>
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How could you not? He’s got ridiculously long eyebrows and a perpetually
worried look and the fluffiest curliest butt ever. And a cowlick right above
his tail that gets especially curly after a bath and nappy ears that get
crimped when damp. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Cutest ever.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1ILw-PU_o1hzUFx0mlUSVGGDVNQEv12AwTETF1MJM3vw2OukgF5bH9svrD93hmygla5os2TptenBGmFvyiW0WMEoMmtSmx4K4YxIG9paNDivMXjXr98uv_CM3IxSEhs2eNUEgddbbqt8/s1600/IMG_2809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm1ILw-PU_o1hzUFx0mlUSVGGDVNQEv12AwTETF1MJM3vw2OukgF5bH9svrD93hmygla5os2TptenBGmFvyiW0WMEoMmtSmx4K4YxIG9paNDivMXjXr98uv_CM3IxSEhs2eNUEgddbbqt8/s1600/IMG_2809.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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His biggest worry in life is his kitty, Maddie. We think it’s a
holdover from when we brought him home and she outweighed him at her sturdy
nine pounds compared to his five. Hilariously, the dynamic hasn’t changed now
that he’s sixty pounds and she’s still only nine. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
She is such a bitch to him too. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He will be so excited for us to come home and will be greeting us with
his fuzzy tail wagging and a toy in his mouth to show us…and she’ll come
sauntering in from wherever she was napping and start loving on him. He
immediately freezes and gets the most desperately pitiful look on his face,
while she sashays around his feet and meows arrogantly. It’s a very scary time
for him.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
You never know when the kitty will decide she’s mad and turn around and
swat at his worried little nose. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The only good part about his kitty is she has some fun toys. Though he
gets a scolding when he comes trotting up with the string tail of one of her
crocheted mice poking out of his mouth.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Banyan also has a couple mannerisms that I find absolutely adorable.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My favorite is his heavy head. </div>
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<br /></div>
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He’s a leaner: he leans on you when sitting next to you, he leans when
getting his head scratched, and if there’s something nearby that he can set his
chin on, he will. I’ve walked in on him in a completely empty room and he’s
standing there with his chin resting on the seat of a chair, just hanging out.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I usually ask, “Are your brains too heavy today, buddy?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He thinks they are.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The leaning thing also means that if you’re giving him a good scratch,
he’ll tuck his head against your knees and lean. If you step away, he kind of
falls over…it’s hilarious.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He is also very particular regarding when it’s time to get up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Unless there are guests in the house, animal or human, he is <i>not</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> interested in getting up before it’s time. I first
discovered this when I started getting up even earlier for gym. The first day I
did it he grudgingly got up, just to make sure he wasn’t needed. Now, I’ll get
up, go to the gym, come home and putter around before he even twitches. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If I make him get up, he will, but he gives me this look that totally
translates into, “But Moo<i>ooooom…it’s early!”</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tyler’s been taking him for runs early this past week.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Banyan is decidedly <i>not</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
enthusiastic about them. It’s dark. And it’s still bedtime. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He doesn’t like them.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He might dawdle on runs with his dad because he doesn’t like them. This
frustrates Tyler because he essentially has to drag the dog on the run, which
makes both of them grumpy. Hilarious.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
My dog is the cutest ever.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ciao,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
kc </div>
kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-58578621810016953222014-04-26T06:44:00.000-07:002014-04-26T06:44:00.160-07:00MOVIE REVIEW: Divergent<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
What is it with post-apocalyptic fantasy being the “it” thing these
days? Hunger Games, Divergent, The Host…holy moly. Whatever happened to the
classics? <i>1984, Brave New World, Lord of the Flies</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> anyone? You don’t see Hollywood making those movies
and they came first!</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8JUY214WLj03AFGry9UCotUFxNd-NL-BF2cmTUsyWvLlP_BEQu2jqp6sbBGB4zwD4Owjl138KclhsevdcMCXIGWWxe5Y8ZzkzHL8LEltHLQ4zAS0IXjesZXaQE2sMTaPZ_Ug7aq5df6Uj/s1600/index.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8JUY214WLj03AFGry9UCotUFxNd-NL-BF2cmTUsyWvLlP_BEQu2jqp6sbBGB4zwD4Owjl138KclhsevdcMCXIGWWxe5Y8ZzkzHL8LEltHLQ4zAS0IXjesZXaQE2sMTaPZ_Ug7aq5df6Uj/s1600/index.jpg" height="299" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I suppose that’s neither here nor there.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Essentially, <i>Divergent</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> is
another one of those so-super-popular-it’s-gotta-be-a-movie-now phenomena.
Fandango’s synopsis says, “<span style="background: white;">In a world where the
population is divided into factions by personality types, Tris Prior (</span><a href="http://www.fandango.com/shailenewoodley/filmography/p423512"><span style="background: white; color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Shailene Woodley</span></a><span style="background: white;">) is classified
as Divergent. When she uncovers a conspiracy to eliminate all Divergents, she
teams with the mysterious Four (</span><a href="http://www.fandango.com/theojames/filmography/p671639"><span style="background: white; color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">Theo James</span></a><span style="background: white;">) to find out what
makes the powers-that-be so frightened of them.”</span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="background: white;">Just for kicks, let’s look at what
Amazon’s book synopsis says, “Beatrice Prior's society is divided into five
factions—Candor (the honest), Abnegation (the selfless), Dauntless (the brave),
Amity (the peaceful), and Erudite (the intelligent). Beatrice must choose
between staying with her Abnegation family and transferring factions. Her
choice will shock her community and herself. But the newly christened Tris also
has a secret, one she's determined to keep hidden, because in this world,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><em>what makes you different makes you
dangerous</em><em><span style="font-style: normal;">.”</span></em></span><em></em></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">I don’t know about
you, but the book sounds better. Ah, the imagination-inept-visually-stimulated
limitations of society.</span></em></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">I am going to
struggle with comparing this to the book because I really enjoyed the book, so
please, bear with me.</span></em></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">Standing by
itself, </span><span style="background: white;">Divergent </span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">was good: especially if you have
never read the book. From a pretend world where I was not intrinsically
frustrated with minor details that were super important to main plotlines in
the book, I enjoyed the movie. I even really enjoyed some of the parts that
they adapted specifically for the movie as they would have been
less-than-entertaining if they had acted them out as written in the book
(there’s a fight scene towards the end that is quite exciting, but definitely
never happened in the book). </span></em></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">Shailene Woodley,
who plays the main character, delivered a performance that was both more
exciting and enthusiastic than anything Kristen Stewart (</span><span style="background: white;">Twilight</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">) ever performed but less talented than Jennifer Lawrence (</span><span style="background: white;">The Hunger Games</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I peg those two other actresses as comparison as they are
all in movies based on teen-fiction-of-a-fantasy-genre-made-into-movies. In
short, Woodley was mildly entertaining though not particularly memorable.</span></em></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">The storyline had
enough entertainment to be fun and easy to follow, as it left out a lot of the
more complicated elements of the book that will frustrate fans everywhere, but
allows the movie to be more accessible to those who are not particularly
interested in reading the trilogy. The writers did an excellent job of adapting
the book into a format that will reach a broader audience than just the book.
My biggest complaint in the adaptation is that it leaves out the greater
questions that the book haphazardly poses about society that are reflected in
books of similar tracks. Entertainment value aside, the questioning of current
society is one of the big draws for that type of story.</span></em></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">Oh well.</span></em></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">It was a fun movie
to see in theaters, especially if you’re familiar with the stories and can
separate yourself from the misses in the storyline. Some of the daredevil moves
executed by Woodley and her supporting actors definitely read better on the big
screen, though not a lot would be lost in a smaller setting.</span></em></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">It’s a fun view
overall, but not the end of the world if it simply makes it to your Netflix
list.</span></em><span style="background: white;"></span></div>
kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-90627510280301178092014-04-24T06:41:00.000-07:002014-04-24T06:41:00.578-07:00Point to Point<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It’s amazing
how much your town will shrink when you’re trying to get mileage. I did a run
with the girls a little over a week ago and we did a point to point run (which
is truly sometimes a feat of organization and engineering…though in this case
it was a feat of miscommunication that just ended up working out). Jamie and I
had talked about it – I thought hypothetically, she thought seriously – for our
normal Sunday evening run. The mileage from Verizon (where we meet Bethany as
she works on Sundays) to Jamie’s house in Tumalo is 7.7 miles, and we needed 8,
so that seemed like a pretty nice run to do.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And then we
talked about how her husband has to go to bed stupid early because he works for
FedEx and is up at like 3 AM to go to work. I said something about how we
should put it on the back burner and do it some other time and just run the
river trail, but either she forgot, didn’t see the comment, or just thought I
meant wait on dinner.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Sure enough,
when Amy and I pulled into the parking lot, Jamie’s husband was dropping her
off. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“What are
you doing?” I asked, “How are you going to get home?”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Aren’t we
running to my house…?” she asked back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Oh yeah,
that…” </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So we ran to
her house.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It was
gorgeous. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
And
apparently a lot closer than you’d think! I always think of Tumalo as being
further out as it’s a 20 or so minute drive. Again, it’s amazing how small your
town and the surrounding countryside gets when you’re doing mileage.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We had a
great run in gorgeous weather. We kept Jamie at a 10 minute mile, which was a
PR for her! Beautiful views of the mountains going down a backroad grade and a
bitch of a hill at mile six. Though I maintain that hills aren’t so bad once
you’ve done Run Like Hell up the waterfront in Portland. One-mile hills are
nothing compared to THAT!</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ciao,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
kc</div>
kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-17717622673182894132014-04-20T07:00:00.000-07:002014-04-20T07:00:03.595-07:00Parking Lot Cupcakes<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Ah, Parking Lot Cupcakes…my poor husband. He hates Parking Lot
Cupcakes. Apparently they’re a fan favorite around here, though I’m not 100%
sure if it’s because of the story or because people actually like them.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
It all happened one night in January. I was driving home from work at
Verizon on a Thursday, humming away to whatever was on my radio, turning over
my evening in my head when I had the oh shit moments of all oh shit moments.
The following day we were supposed to attend a birthday party for one of our
friends. Not just any one of our friends, but one of our friends in the group
that has become accustomed to a certain way of birthdays and events involving
homemade cupcakes.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
If I failed to bring cupcakes there would be rioting.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So there I was, almost 8 pm at night when I like to go to bed by 8:30,
nine at the latest…facing cupcake-astrophe. The horror.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I stayed up late baking stupid white cake cupcakes with blackberry
frosting. I had cupcake batter for dinner, frosting for dessert and was up in
the middle of the night reliving it because apparently that much sugar on an
empty stomach is not what you want in life.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
The next night, I rush home, having texted my husband an hour prior
with an urgent “Don’t forget!” that he failed to respond to. When I got home,
the house was dark, we were supposed to have been at the party 30 minutes prior
and my husband was fast asleep. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“We have to be at Kiana’s birthday ten minutes ago!” I shouted,
shucking off my work clothes and rushing into jeans and a top. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
“No we don’t!” he hollered muzzily back as he has a tendency to do when
I rudely awaken him from his nap du jour. The man never agrees with me when
he’s being woken up. He is always stubbornly 100% sure that I am wrong and am
waking him up because I am an evil, evil woman who does not want her husband to
sleep.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
I finally haul his ass out of bed, get him dressed, shove the container
of cupcakes in his hands and herd him to the car where we rush off to the
birthday party.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
So I’m already grumpy and pissed off. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We pull into the parking lot and he’s still only half-responsive and
argumentative. He opens the door and steps a foot out the door, swinging the
container of cupcakes with him, and the entire bottom of the container comes
undone sending two dozen angsty cupcakes tumbling to the parking lot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
Are you seeing where the name comes from now?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
He sat there, half in and half out of the car, frosting and cupcake
carnage everywhere just stuttering. I of course, being pissed off already,
start yelling at him to freaking catch the ones that haven’t fallen and rescue
them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
We saved six. Two from the floorboards of the car (“They can eat a
couple rocks and some hair, whatever, they’re fine,” I growled.) and one that
had stuck to the lid on the inside and three that had fortuitously not hit the
ground quite yet. I snatched the recovered cupcakes from my husband’s hands and
stormed into the restaurant. </div>
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My friend Amy’s husband, Cory, saw my face and that Tyler was trailing
behind me (by a good five minutes…the adorable man tried to clean up the
carcasses), and instantly started cracking jokes. And then I told the story and
the room hushed in horror. Poor husband came in looking like he was a puppy I
had just beaten with a newspaper. Luckily, now we can laugh about it…sort of.
It still hurts a little bit.</div>
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Weirdly enough, these cupcakes seem to be everyone’s favorites.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFeQvffq9KAcAFImBzqBFa67zMjLFeGNd02CSrsVvpNJQEFNab8nHwnoFIJ0shDZLE10dXjFaxRYO-NpM07j5Tt1oXPf9b2MDVUv7jE4l3LXfbrCdk9uUXNjXWzAo7Xa0pFxwA-qcj3am/s1600/IMG_2594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyFeQvffq9KAcAFImBzqBFa67zMjLFeGNd02CSrsVvpNJQEFNab8nHwnoFIJ0shDZLE10dXjFaxRYO-NpM07j5Tt1oXPf9b2MDVUv7jE4l3LXfbrCdk9uUXNjXWzAo7Xa0pFxwA-qcj3am/s1600/IMG_2594.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<b>Parking Lot Cupcakes</b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Ingredients</i></div>
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3 c all-purpose flour</div>
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2 1/2 tsp baking powder</div>
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1/2 tsp salt</div>
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2/3 c unsalted butter, softened</div>
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1 3/4 c sugar</div>
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2 eggs</div>
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1 1/4 c milk</div>
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1 tsp vanilla extract</div>
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<i>Instructions</i></div>
<ol>
<li>Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Sift the flour, baking powder, and salt together in a medium bowl.</li>
<li>In a separate, larger bowl, cream the butter. Gradually add the sugar, creaming until light and fluffy. Add eggs one at a time, and beat well after each addition.</li>
<li>In a small bowl, combine the milk and vanilla.</li>
<li>To the butter mixture, add about 1/4 of the flour mixture and mix well. Add about one quarter of the milk mixture and mix well. Continue alternating the flour mixture and milk mitxture, beating after each addition until smooth.</li>
<li>Pour batter into cupcake tins, bake for 15 to 20 minutes until cake springs back when touched. Remove from oven and let cool for about 10 minutes, then turn the cupcakes out of the tins and onto a rack to finish cooling completely.</li>
</ol>
<i>For the frosting</i><br />
I used the recipe from Annie's Eats found here:
<br />
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<a href="http://www.annies-eats.com/2012/07/30/cupcake-basics-whipped-vanilla-buttercream/?cook_view=7469">http://www.annies-eats.com/2012/07/30/cupcake-basics-whipped-vanilla-buttercream/?cook_view=7469</a></div>
<br />
Before adding sugar, add 3 tbsp jam flavor of your choice and the vanilla. Blend until smooth and then proceed with recipe. <br />
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<br /></div>
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Ciao,</div>
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kc</div>
kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1917680948548446762.post-25035845488098357152014-04-18T07:00:00.000-07:002014-04-18T07:00:02.239-07:00The Run Bet<style><!--
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I’ve got a new group of running BFFs. They are amazing and strong and
beautiful and smart and I love them. And they run with me! And there’s like, a
lot of them so when one is busy there’s still so many to run with me! </div>
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<br /></div>
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We’re that group of obnoxiously fit women running down the street in a
pack. You know the one that I mean.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Let me introduce you:</div>
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<br /></div>
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First, there’s Bethany. We know Bethany. She’s the one who limped me
from 1 minute running/5 minutes walking to my first 10k after my back injuries.
She is the one who has listened to me bitch and moan, and whine, and somehow
has an uncanny knack for knowing when I’m actually hurting and when I’m just
whining.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I met Bethany at Verizon. </div>
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<br /></div>
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She likes margaritas and line dancing. </div>
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<br /></div>
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She laughs at my jokes, has as many “duh” moments as I do, and her
husband has mentioned giving me “custody rights” as she spends almost as much
time at my house as she does at her own. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Next, there’s Jamie. Jamie is a champ. I also met Jamie at Verizon.
After the first back injury when I was trying to start running again and
Bethany and I hadn’t really started hanging out, I bribed Jamie to run with me.
She had never been a runner, so I figured it would be perfect because we would
be starting on equal ground. I think it was November or so when I bribed her,
and we planned on running the Pacific Crest the following June (2013).</div>
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<br /></div>
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Then I decided slipping and falling and reinjuring myself would be more
fun. </div>
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<br /></div>
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I totally expected her to bail on our bet, but apparently, damnit, she
made a deal and would stick to it!</div>
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<br /></div>
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That led to a long summer of her cussing at me almost on a daily basis
while I cheered her on, limping myself back into running with Bethany. “I will
never do one of these again! This is stupid!” she kept saying.</div>
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At the beginning of June, she started having foot problems that caused
her a lot of pain. I told her to back off running, and she did, but she still
ran the race. Because of her foot, she had to walk quite a bit of it.</div>
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Because of her foot, she’s running another “damn run.” </div>
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<br /></div>
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…Apparently she wants to prove something. I told her that she’s now
officially a runner and it doesn’t get any better. </div>
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<br /></div>
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She might still cuss at me.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Last but not least, there’s Amy. She’s really fast. We’re really slow
compared to her, but she likes the buddy system and doesn’t mind toning it down
for us so long as we punch it up for her. Amy is friends with our neighbor from
our old house, which is how we know her. She has the cutest ever daughter, who
is two and a half and our adopted niece. </div>
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Her daughter has the biggest crush on my husband. It is totally
adorable.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And I’m the cupcake lady, which makes me awesome.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Anyways. She’s fast.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So these three girls get my butt moving on a regular basis.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We are all signed up for the Pacific Crest this year, and my old boss
overheard us talking about it. Now, a couple things you should know about Brian
(my old boss): he is ridiculous, talks a lot of smack, and is one of the nicest
guys you’ll meet. </div>
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<br /></div>
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And he likes to pretend he’s a runner.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Okay, so he’s run races which I guess qualifies him as a runner, but he
likes to pretend like he doesn’t actually train for them. He goaded me into
running the Dirty Half against him in 2012 and I beat him by 15 minutes. And it
took me 2 hours and 15 minutes to run that race.</div>
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<br /></div>
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However, he ran the 10k with Bethany and I last summer and beat us by a
minute.</div>
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<br /></div>
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We think that had we had six more miles, we would have kicked his butt.
</div>
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So anyways, he overheard us chatting (well, Jamie, Bethany and I
anyways, as it was before I left Verizon) and had to butt in. He started saying
that he was going to run this race and beat all of us. Bethany, being one of
the most competitive people I know, immediately latched on to that and started
yelling back at him that he was ridiculous.</div>
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<br /></div>
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This quickly devolved into name calling and good-humored trash talk.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Then I proposed the bet: whoever lost had to buy everyone else a
pitcher of margaritas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bethany and
Brian thought that was a pretty awesome idea. And then Brian made the mistake
of turning to Jamie – who having been a “runner” for all of a year isn’t quite
as fast as the rest of us yet – and said, “Oh don’t worry, Jamie, we won’t make
you participate.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Jamie is normally very quiet and reserved, but apparently, that was a
button that when pushed caused an unexpected reaction.</div>
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<br /></div>
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“OH. MY. GOSH! Are you calling me SLOW?” She blurted. </div>
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<br /></div>
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He made a terrible attempt to deny this and she started hollering at
him about how she most definitely was NOT slow and that she would totally kick
his butt.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I’ve never seen her quite so riled up.</div>
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<br /></div>
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She was so riled that after giving Brian what-for, she marched off to
lunch and forgot her purse and her jacket and had to come back in and get them.
She’s normally much more together. It was hilarious.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So we have this bet.</div>
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<br />
Since then, it has morphed into including Amy and changed a little bit. If
Brian loses to any one of us four, he will buy two pitchers of margaritas. But
whoever he beats also has to buy one pitcher of margaritas. This means that if
he’s faster than we think he is, we will be very blitzed by the end of the day.</div>
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<br /></div>
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However, we have our secret weapon, Amy, who we know will beat him. And
we’re pretty much banking on that extra seven miles (a 10k is 6.1 and a half is
13.1 for those of you who can’t do the math) to do him in. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Though Bethany pointed out to me that our own math might be off: if we
let Amy beat him and then the other three of us lose to him, then that’s five
pitchers of margaritas that will be bought. That’s a lot of margaritas.
Luckily, some of us are way to competitive to think that way, and even with the
lure of margaritas, Bethany can’t stand to let Brian beat us again! </div>
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<br /></div>
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Ciao,</div>
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kc</div>
kchttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16825274466515968067noreply@blogger.com0