Thoughts on list making.

A few thoughts on list-making. When I read, I make lists. When I walk in the woods, I make lists. I think best in lists. God forbid I find myself without a pen, because I’ll get downright cranky. Perhaps that’s why I dislike long showers. I fear that I’ll forget those small flashes of thought that tend to flicker through my head as my eyes are shut and the water rushes down my face.

And then there is the joy of choosing what to write your list on. I have lists on my computer, on a whiteboard by the side of my bed, but physical tactile lists are undeniably the best. My uncle, who I should note has particularly fine taste, has his own monogrammed mini note pads that fit in his wallet and he carries around at all times. I have notebooks big and small. My favorite, usually, is my smallest moleskine, which has a pocket to keep the lists that didn’t make it in the book and were scribbled on the back of an old envelope, receipt, or library slip.

There is little I like better than writing my lists, except perhaps, reading other people’s lists. I have much to thank my friend Kassie for over the years, but I owe her the biggest debt of gratitude for introducing me to Maria Popova’s Brain Pickings, filled with the lists of creative people throughout history. If you’d like to procrastinate, click on that link.

This was the banana that I ate directly following my morning workout. I headed to CrossFit with trepidation. We’d be working on three things that I’m not good at: pull-ups, hang squat snatches, and toes to bar. One of my biggest challenges with CrossFit has been keeping a positive attitude when I’m not good at something. When you’ve lived your life competing with  over-achievers, accepting that you are not good at something takes some effort.

But I’ve surprised myself at how quickly I’ve found joy from my progress at the gym, tackling new challenges that seem insurmountable. Each day I learn something new, I become both physically and mentally stronger, and this keeps me coming back week after week. These days I’ve been coming and going with a smile on my face.

Tuesday WOD 9/25/12

Strength

A.  Back Squat – 6 Sets of 4 @ 80% of your 1 rep max, rest 2:30 between sets (20 min. cap total)

B.  Strict Weighted Pull-up – 8 minutes to a heavy set of 3 reps (if you can’t do them, practice pull-ups and kipping for your TTB)

WOD (workout of the day):  “Black Bart”

AMRAP 8 Ladder of 2,4,6,8, etc.

Hang Squat Snatch 95/65

Toe To Bar

This was not an easy day for me. My two rep max is 95, and although I hadn’t found my one rep max, Coach E determined that I’d work with 80 pounds for my back squat. I’ve been working on keeping my heels down, sticking my butt out, and squatting down low. I felt good at the end of my sets, gaining confidence that I’m building up muscle. I definitely can go heavier.

And then came the pullups. Up until now I’ve been doing jump-ups standing on a 24 inch box to jump up over the bar. Today, we pulled out the green band. Three pullups no problem. (I surprised myself here). And then the blue band (less resistance) – three more down (huh…) . The red? Okay, so I got one. But now I know that I can do this.

After our strength we had our WOD. My technique on my lifts could use some work, so I ended up dropping the weight down to 35#. Because I have to learn how to hang properly on the rig, I ended up with knee raises instead of toes to bar. Toes to bar is infinitely more difficult than when I was six and could do it easily. I think I need more time on the playground. Result? In eight minutes I got past the 8’s and 3 lifts in.

(Black Bart, for the record, is one of my favorite outlaws. He was a poet, and would leave verses at crime scenes!)

“I’ve labored long and hard for bread,
For honor, and for riches,
But on my corns too long you’ve tread,
You fine-haired sons of bitches.”

When I came home, I made myself this superbly good bowl of leftover beef stew. Having eaten all the meat off our marrow bones the night before, I cooked up some crumbled fresh sausage from the butcher shop and then heated up the leftover carrots and braise. I topped it all with some fresh parsley and lemon zest, and it was positively the best thing I’ve eaten in weeks. Recipe coming in the next day or so as soon as Yom Kippur is over and I can post my notes without this rumbling hunger. {Edited: recipe here!}

In the afternoon, I was craving something sweet, but decided that I’d make myself a treat for the evening – Chai Chia Pudding. I pulled out my favorite Masala Chai from Samovar, heated up a cup of coconut milk on the stove, and steeped a tablespoon of tea in the milk as it warmed.

After about 5 minutes, I took the creamy tea-milk off the stove, and stirred in about a quarter cup of chia seeds. The seeds expand in the milk and make a gelatinous pudding. Typically I’d add a spoonful of honey to sweeten it, but I’ve been strict about no added sweeteners this month, and the warm spices are enough to satisfy me lately. I put it in the fridge to cool down for later.

In the early evening I took my walk before Devon came home from work, just as the sun was setting. Just as I was coming home, I stumbled upon the IKEA drawer set I used to own (and loved) standing in someone’s front yard. I rushed home to get my car, drove over, and spent 15 minutes attempting to lift the thing by myself (not a problem now!), until I finally had to give up because there was no way it was going to fit in my tiny Volvo.

I headed to the store, silently praying it’d be there when Devon got back with the Tucson. It was not. You can’t win them all.

I did however win with dinner. I picked up a single packet of pre-cooked organic “love beets” at the store. Because I’m the only one around here who eats beets, this is the perfect convenience. I chopped my beets up and dressed them with cumin, coriander, salt and vinegar. I then set about cooking some grass fed beef with peppers and a tomato. Finally, I chopped up an avocado, heated up some spinach, and made myself this delightfully colorful plate:

Devon got his with refried beans, and we sat together and ate happily. For dessert, I ate my chia pudding, and we watched Bourdain’s Sydney episode before falling asleep way too early to admit.

On not sulking.

Sometimes I deal with bouts of anxiety and sadness. It happens. After the absolute thrill of completing my very first race on Sunday, I got into a funk. I’m not quite talking about depression (that’s another beast entirely), but more of a general gloom. Time and again, what follows intense highs of accomplishment is self doubt, criticism, or anguish. Was it good enough? Does it matter? While I spent a lot of time worrying as a child that it might just be me, I’ve realized over the years that it happens to a lot of people, people I respect, people I love, maybe even you, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. I went to particularly competitive schools, worked with highly driven people, and this gloom was something that seems inescapable.

This is where writing comes in. It’s one way to find solace when you are feeling badly, to lift yourself up when you feel like sulking. After waking up glum, I took this picture of my morning coffee. And then I set about writing my race recap. I debated omitting my time – it’s too slow. they will judge. – and even pictures of myself – i’m sweating. my face is red. these gym clothes look ridiculous – and my favorite – who cares about this. it’s not even a big deal. But I decided to include everything, as honestly as possible. And I could not have been more thrilled at how many of you responded in big ways and small, to remind me that my accomplishment was really just that, something I should be proud of.

So for that, I thank you.

Another wonderful thing to combat gloom is spending time with dear friends. I was so lucky to get Caroline for one more day before sending her back off to Texas. We spent the afternoon running around her old grad school haunts at Hahhhvahhd, and took lunch at Upstairs on the Square.

I hadn’t visited the place since my senior year of college, and was happy to enter into the land of whimsy again. The interior is decorated as a 7 year old’s fantasy land, but the entire place has subtly macabre details, such as wall paintings of cheerful zebras being attacked by arrows. I love it.

For lunch, I yet again found myself chatting with a supremely patient and friendly waiter about my food restrictions – no dairy, no gluten, and a few other things I can’t do. Another success – I ended up with this Salad Niçoise, with egg, Italian tuna, white anchovies, tomatoes, olives and capers, omitting the fingerlings and aioli. Instead of the vinaigrette, I ordered a side of oil and vinegar. I looked longingly at their delicious bread basket, but this was quite a good meal.

After lunch, we walked around for an hour, and headed to tea at Tealuxe right in Harvard Square. I ordered an iced Makaibari Darjeeling. I quite enjoy their tea selection, and their daily iced choices are always exciting.

After a few hours of fun, I had to send off my wonderful friend back to Providence to catch her flight back to Houston. When I got home, I sat down to work after getting myself a snack: canned Copper River wild sockeye salmon. This was one of the last shipments I received from the Copper River marketing board, and I was hesitant to open it so soon, but the stuff is so delicious I couldn’t help myself. I mixed it with a generous spoonful of homemade mayo, a few grinds of pepper, and a large handful of chopped dill.

In the early evening, I set to work making dinner: beef shank stew with carrots and gremolata.

Devon got his served on a big bowl of mashed potatoes, but I just took an extra helping of carrots.

For dessert, I polished off an entire pint of raspberries before realizing that I hadn’t snapped a photo. We were watching Breaking Amish. I was totally engrossed by the “English clothing”, illicit tattoo acquisition, and that one guy Abe who seems to have such a good head on his shoulders.

Charles River Center 5k – My First Race!

Three weeks ago, in the middle of the night, I had an idea. I was going to run a road race. My first road race. (Unless you count participation as getting kissed by sweaty runners several years in a row at the 13.1 mile mark of the Boston marathon, in which case, I’ve done lots of participating.) Somewhere around 12:35 a.m., I registered for the Charles River Center 5K Run/walk.

I should make a point here that at the time I signed up, I had been running little more than 200-800 meters at a time at CrossFit. So I devised a fancy training plan: run a few 5k training runs each week. That’s 5000 meters, or 3.1 miles. Because I’m obsessive, the morning after that middle of the night, I drove out to the race course and ran the course to see if I could do it without embarrassing myself totally. I had not up until that point actually run a 5k in more than a year. I then ran four more 5ks in the following two weeks, each run progressively slower. This was a little disconcerting, but I pressed on.

On Saturday morning, I picked up my race packet, there was no backing out now! My swag bag included a t-shirt, free toothbrushes, chips, lip balm, and a mini foam football. I will not lie, I was pretty elated.

The morning of the race, I woke up and googled the number 244. Not the most significant historical occurrences, although Alexander may or may not have been born this year. I took comfort in the fact that it was an even number. I opted for my typical morning pre-exercise fare of a cup of coffee and a banana with almond butter. I went for half of the banana for fear that something disastrous would happen to my stomach before the race. It did not.

We drove out to Needham where we parked at Olin and took the short walk to the race course. The Charles River Center supports children and adults with developmental disabilities, and I was thrilled at the turnout for this worthy cause – lots of families, everyone happy and smiling.

I was not at this point nervous. I took one last port-a-potty run (possibly the cleanest port-a-potty ever), and Devon snapped this photo of me.

I then took a photo of my trusty (re: old) Mizunos before lining up at the beginning of the race. Documenting your sneaker choice is apparently important to me.

Before lining up for the race, I ran into my challenge team-leader Kati! I was thrilled to see a familiar face. We lined up together and saw a few more of our gym-mates. There were tons of folks of all abilities at the race, and a good number of families running and walking together. Devon left us as we listened to the slightly inappropriate emcee, and a keyboard rendition of the national anthem. I turned on my Pandora, and my Runkeeper app, set up my Garmin, and then we were off!

My goal for the race was to finish. Seriously. My second goal was to do so in less than 34 minutes. (Keep in mind that a) I am slow, b) I take walk breaks c) I did not train for this.) Next year when I’m running a half marathon at a pace two minutes faster than this, I shall not laugh at myself.

The first mile of the race was largely down hill, which was pretty thrilling. I was surprised at how much faster I was running than normal, and surrounded in a sea of happy runners, it was actually quite easy to keep up a good clip. I started following a fit woman about my age, and took my first walk break near the end of the first mile for a minute. (I was a little emotional and choked up here.) I finished my first mile in 9:36, including the walk break.

We then ran through a little residential cul-de-sac, and there were people on the side of the road cheering! At 1.25 miles, we had our water break. I actually stopped on the side of the road and took thirty seconds to drink my water slowly. I had not practiced the “drink water while running”, and was convinced that I’d drink too quickly, choke, or give myself a stitch.

The next three quarters of a mile were largely down hill. At my halfway point, this guy came in before they had even finished setting up the finish line stuff. In 16:50. That’s a 5:25/minute per mile pace. That, my friends, is fast.

My second mile was 10:13, winding past the Babson campus, and by the Wellesley country club. I paced with what appeared to be an 9 or 10 year old girl for a few minutes, followed a mom running with her son, and a few parents pushing their disabled child in a jogging stroller. (Seeing these kids beaming made this race so worth it.) I opted not to take a walk break other than at the water station.

My third mile was 10:53, taking three short walk breaks, and by the end I was thinking that I would like to be finished with the race. We ran past Volante Farms, and around the corner to the finish line. I saw a few gym folks near the finish line, and was pretty excited.

Here I am coming up the final hill!

Here I am realizing that I’m about to be smoked by an 11 year old, and should maybe push a little harder!

In the end, I finished in 32:14, a 10:22/minute per mile pace. Not horrific for my very first race with zero real training! (I kept on feeling shocked that fit people were finishing after me!)

Here I am a happy red-faced runner!

After the race, we walked up to the after-party where there was free Sam Adams, pizza, hot dogs, and Crescent Ridge ice cream. None of which did I eat, alas – sticking my guns to the challenge. Here I am slightly incredulous at turning down the free ice cream and re-fueling with an apple! Thank you Whole Foods!

I didn’t have to feel sorry for myself, because I got to partake in the best reward of all – free post-run massage and adjustment with Dr. Adrian of Granite Family Chiropractic!

After the race, we headed home, making a pit-stop at Chipotle. I had a bowl with lettuce, carnitas, pico de gallo, hot salsa and guacamole.

When we got home, I snacked on a cashew cookie LÄRABAR (just dates and cashews), and took a long hot shower. For dinner, I put together a beef and broccoli stir fry, and ate the extra cabbage from the previous dinner.

Feeling pretty good about things, and looking forward to the next race already!

Do you run races? Want to? (You should!) Do you remember your very first race?