Saturday, April 26, 2014

On The Run: San Francisco (and Blue Apron Giveaway Winner)

My last trip to San Francisco involved 26.2 miles of running (and one nearly catastrophic tumble on the Golden Gate).  While that kind of distance is a bit ambitious the week after a marathon, I'm excited to be back in the City by the Bay and get in a few miles when I can.

I'm here for work, which means my agenda for the week is pretty jam packed, and begins at 7:30am each day. But since I'm on East Coast time, I've been able to get up and run (slowly and easily, in deference to my post-marathon legs) before getting down to business.  With some familiarity of the city to begin with, I knew I wanted to run along the Embarcadero, the path that hugs the water.  But since I'm staying at The Westin, which is famous (on the internet) for having a "running concierge," when I asked for directions to the Embarcadero on my first morning here, I was handed a running map.




I followed the directions and headed down Market Street to the Ferry Building.  The sun was rising over the Bay, and plenty of other runners were out and about, enjoying a gorgeous Thursday morning.  I turned left at the Ferry Building and continued along the water, heading towards Fisherman's Wharf.  When I got there, I hit stop on my Garmin and said good morning to the (smelly, noisy) seals and glimpsed the Golden Gate peeking out from the fog.  San Francisco is just as expensive as New York, but the views are better - why doesn't everyone just move out here?


Bay Bridge

On my second run, I again headed down Market Street to the Ferry Building, and then turned right and ran along the Embarcadero, under the Bay Bridge, until I hit AT&T Park.  The run in this direction was a little less scenic and a little more dicey, but it's hard to feel sketched out by a baseball park surrounded by palm trees.  



Pretty much the only drawback about running in San Francisco is that you're perpetually inhaling pot smoke. Or maybe that's not a drawback for you, I don't know.  In any case, I can't really find any other reason to not move here immediately, and commit myself to a lifetime of 55 degree days and soup served in a sourdough bread bowl.

P.S. Thanks for your comments on my Blue Apron post.  You sound like shitty cooks.  The winner of the giveaway is Megan!  Megan, I'll email you.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Race Report: The Boston Marathon, Round 3

In 2011, I ran my first Boston Marathon and swore off the race forever.

In 2012, I ran my second Boston Marathon. I had an even more unpleasant experience, and vowed I wouldn't be back.

But like so many from the running community, it was important to me to return to Boston this year. So on Monday, I crossed the finish line on Boylston Street for the third time in my life, 3 hours and 26 minutes after I started (for those of you who don't want to read this whole damn race report; I'm not mad, I definitely skim for results), and while I'm no less convinced that Boston is a difficult and unforgiving course, I think the third time might actually have been the charm for me.



Pre-race: After a fortuitous shake out run in Connecticut on Easter Sunday morning, TG and I piled into the car with more Easter candy than two people should have at any time, least of all when one of them is about to run a marathon, and made the three hour drive to Boston. Our first stop was the expo, which was back at the Hynes Convention Center on Boylston Street this year. I picked up my bib, strongly encouraged TG to make me a sign, and took a quick loop through the expo before walking along Boylston Street to the finish line. The sun was shining, and rather than being somber and contemplative ahead of the race, I was in a great mood. We grabbed a quick lunch at Copley Plaza and headed to Cambridge, where we were spending the night.




For my first two Bostons, I stayed out in Milford, right by the start at Hopkinton, which allows for a few extra hours of sleep, but is a logistical hassle post-race. This year, I booked a room at the Irving House, a B&B near Inman Square in Cambridge, which was about 15 minutes across the Charles River from Boston Common. When we checked in, I noted a sign welcoming runners and indicating that breakfast on Monday would begin at 5:00am, enabling those of us headed to the buses to get coffee and bagels before our run. The B&B was small but well-appointed, and my only concern was the small sign in the bathroom indicating that they had low flow toilets, and users should consider flushing at intervals to prevent clogging and overflow. That's not what you want from a toilet on marathon morning...

TG and I checked in and had a few hours of downtime, during which I laid out my bib person and set about writing my race day goals. About 6:00pm, we headed back into Boston for a relaxed, homemade pasta dinner with two of my best friends from college and their significant others. My abs got quite a workout from laughing so hard catching up with Cathy and Caroline, which was exactly what I needed to stay relaxed ahead of the big day. I hit the hay around 10:00pm and slept like a baby (a baby who sleeps well, I mean. Caroline would like me to point out that she knows a certain baby who doesn't sleep, but he's cute enough that it's hard to be mad).




Race morning: When the alarm went off at 5:15am, I was pretty groggy, but that resolved itself as soon as TG fetched me the strongest cup of coffee I've ever had from the breakfast room at the Irving House (luckily the potency did not have any negative implications on the low-flow toilet...). I got dressed, listened to some tunes to get psyched, and scarfed down a bagel while TG worked on his spectating game plan. Ultimately, he decided he wanted to be at Boston College, just after Heartbreak Hill, so I planned to look for him on the right side of the road around mile 21. Cathy indicated she and her parents would be in Wellesley at mile 13, and I knew I had a family friend, Andy, at mile 9 in Natick. Even if I had a horrible day, I'd have some familiar faces to look forward to.

At 6:45am, TG and I got into the car and headed to Boston Common, where he dropped me off as close as he could get with the car. I hopped out and made my 10 minute walk to the buses. I walked right onto a bus without waiting at all, snagged the last seat, and almost immediately, we headed to Hopkinton.


I sat next to a friendly man from Toronto running his first Boston. He quizzed me a bit on the day, and I pressed him for details on his training and favorite races. He asked if I'd seen the 60 Minutes piece featuring Shalane, and I confessed that I always hold out hope for Meb, despite his age. Our conversation made the hour long trip pass quickly, and by 8:30am I was walking under the arches welcoming me to the Athlete Village.

As a result of heightened security this year, there was no gear check in Hopkinton, so anything we brought with us was either left behind, or making the 26.2 mile journey on our bodies. I wore a throw away hoodie and sweatpants and carried a large trash bag to sit on, as well as a couple magazines and a printed out copy of my Uncle John's email of course wisdom. I found myself a sunny spot on the grass to lay out my trash bag, ate a granola bar, and leafed through Vanity Fair.

Throughout the morning, all kinds of announcements are called out over the loudspeaker at the Athlete Village. Running groups lose one another and try to reunite, medical advice is offered, and hydration reminders are conveyed. Most of this is white noise, and runners spend their time in the Athlete Village talking over the announcements, which makes the whole village sound kind of like a 35,000-strong beehive. At 8:45am, however, the voice over the loudspeaker called everyone to attention and then read the names of the 4 killed in last year's bombings, along with the names of Boston-area police and firemen recently killed in action, and asked for a moment of silence. It was the first time in my life I've ever been part of a moment of silence in which every single person was absolutely silent. It was incredible.

By 9:15am, I was done with Vanity Fair and figured I should get on the ever-growing porta potty line before I was called to my corral at 9:50am. Slowly but surely, I inched my way forward, reading and rereading my Uncle John's advice. "Early speed kills," he wrote. "Don't do anything stupid." After 40 minutes, I was next. The girl ahead of me exited the porta potty and held the door open for me.

"There's no toilet paper."

"Oh."

TP is one of those things on every single list of supplies for a first time marathoner, and one of those things I never bother to bring. What I did bring, however, was the printed copy of my Uncle John's email. If anyone would forgive me for using his words to wipe my butt before a race, it was a seasoned marathoner like my Uncle John. That email proved to be more of a race day asset than he ever could have anticipated.

A few minutes after 10:00am, I joined hordes of other Wave 2 runners and made my way down the hill from the Athletes Village to the start. I passed lots of friendly spectators, cheering and waving signs despite the fact that we were more than a half mile from the race course and were all walking. Residents along the route were handing out safety pins, water, bananas, and some particularly animated gentlemen were offering donuts, beer, and cigarettes to any runners who were interested. I was tempted, but ultimately decided to hold out another 4-ish hours.

On the walk, I tied my black trash bag around my neck like a cape, and noticed it had gotten hot to the touch by the time I got to the corrals. I ditched it and hiked up my arm sleeves, but even those seemed unnecessary. While it was no 2012 race, the weather was already a touch warmer than I would have liked. But on measure, it was a beautiful day, and I'd managed to get this far without working myself into a frenzy, so I decided to put the heat and sun out of my mind and have a nice day on the course. I crossed the mat and hit start on the Garmin, and with that, my third Boston Marathon was underway.

The Race: I was wearing a 3:20 pace bracelet I'd made myself, which necessitated a lot of math on my part, and the effort it required to create it alone made me inclined to use it, but I also thought hard about Uncle John's advice for the first four miles. The course drops a tremendous amount - more than 200 feet - in those opening four miles, and I had to fight not to go out too fast. My pace bracelet had me running 7:45s for those miles, and I was even more cautious than that.
Mile 1 : 8:06
Mile 2: 7:53
Mile 3: 7:51
Mile 4: 7:50




From here, and for the next 12 miles, my pace bracelet had me running Goal Marathon Pace, or 7:30s. I was feeling good, but was only 4 miles in, so I decided to remain cautious for another 2 miles. Mile 6 was where I thought I remember first realizing the wheels were coming off in the Hamptons Marathon last fall, so it was really important to me to get to mile 6 feeling good.
Mile 5: 7:56
Mile 6: 7:50

I did indeed feel good 6 miles in, so I decided to try to drop the pace a little bit, while being really careful not to force it. I cannot overstate how much I was listening to my body for the first half of this marathon, continually telling myself "you feel good; stay right here." While this meant the 3:20 on my pace bracelet was out the window almost immediately, I also knew that I had 4 additional minutes between that and a PR.
Mile 7: 7:42
Mile 8: 7:44
Mile 9: 7:42
Mile 10: 7:46

By mile 9, I was hot enough to roll down my arm sleeves, and knew that I'd never get a break from the sun, which was a little discouraging. In addition, while I was physically comfortable with my pace, I did feel a little guilty that it wasn't what was written on my pace bracelet. I thought about ripping it off, since I was going by feel anyway, but it was nice to be able to check my total time at each mile again the bracelet and gauge a finish time frame. I also knew I was approaching my first friend on the course, Andy, between miles 9 and 10. Seeing him gave me such a boost, especially because it reminded me that the last time I'd seen him during the Boston Marathon, it was a sweltering day and I still finished. I recommitted myself mentally to running a smart, strong race. With 6 miles until Newton, I thought to myself "don't do anything stupid."

The screaming girls of Wellseley were, as always, a highlight of the next stretch, and spying Cathy and her parents also gave me some energy. Miles 14 through 16 felt really warm, and I was starting to get thirsty in between aid stations.
Mile 11: 7:55
Mile 12: 7:48
Mile 13: 7:52
Mile 14: 7:54
Mile 15: 7:53

Just before I entered Newton, a runner nearby asked the spectators who won.

"An American!" They told him.

"Which one?!"

"Meb!"

The runners around me all looked at each other, equal parts astounded and thrilled. We checked with another fan a little further ahead to be sure. "Who won?"

"Meb!"

It sounds cheesy, but this news honestly gave me so much energy. The brutal downhill to the Newton fire station was punishing on my quads - more so than I had remembered - but if a guy about to be 39 years old could win, surely I could run hard up 4 hills. I tried to take them one at a time, not looking at my Garmin and instead thinking about running up Harlem hill, which I've done one billion times. I was so focused on staying strong, it took me a minute to process what was happening when I heard someone say "Hi Claire." It was Josh, cheering on his teammates at a spot where they no doubt needed his support. He snagged a shot of me, in which my trance is evident:




I remember distinctly my first Boston, being on the first hill after the fire station, and wondering "Is this Heartbreak Hill?" and then being so very sad to discover it wasn't even close. It seems I'm not the only person to make this mistake. Shortly after the turn at the fire station, I heard a man running near me answer a phone call on his headphones (I mean...) and tell the caller "I'm just running up Heartbreak Hill!" No sir, you're just 4 miles away from running up Heartbreak Hill...

Though I told myself I wouldn't look at my Garmin, I did glance at it after the first hill, at mile 16. It said 7:52. I thought for sure something was wrong with it. My first two attempts at the Newton hills had been a death march, and this one didn't feel easy by any means - no way I was keeping pace. I kept my head down and kept plugging away, relaxing on the downhills and counting down on the uphills.
Mile 16: 7:52
Mile 17: 7:54
Mile 18: 7:49
Mile 19: 7:33
Mile 20: 7:46

This seemed impossible. But with Heartbreak Hill ahead, I told myself to get through one last hill, and then it was just 5 easy miles home. I have a vague recollection of the crowds getting louder on Heartbreak, knowing how badly the runners needed them, but felt like I was having an out of body experience. This is possibly because I was extremely dehydrated at this point, but I chose to go with it until the top of the hill.
Mile 21: 8:09

Holy shit, I ran the Newton Hills well. Holy shit. I was handsomely rewarded for my efforts with TG's smiling face, exactly where he said he'd be. There was enough room on the sidewalk for him to run along the course and talk to me. I told him to stop running so fast. He asked how I was doing, I explained that it was really hot and I was getting tired, but I felt pretty good, and that I thought I'd finish in around 3:30. I knew by this point that the make-or-break miles were behind me, and a 3:30 would allow for really easy miles (easy being relative, 21 miles into a marathon). Then I had to stop talking because I had also stopped breathing. I focused my attention on Commonwealth Avenue ahead.

The last 5 miles of the Boston Marathon are indeed almost entirely downhill. Some quick calculations told me if I really hauled ass, dropping my pace below 7:30s for the rest of course, I could snag a PR, but a quick check in of my bodily systems told me that wasn't in the cards. I was extremely thirsty, and reaching up to touch my forehead, confirmed I was salty and dry. My quads were also so trashed, I was a little concerned about falling on the downhills. I thought back to my goals, among them another BQ and a course PR. "Don't do anything stupid." I told myself.

I kept my head down for most of the last 5 miles, so when I happened to glance up, I was so pleasantly surprised to see the Citgo sign beckoning me home. We went under the overpass on Commonwealth and I started thinking about picking up the pace for the homestretch. "Don't do anything stupid."
Mile 22: 7:45
Mile 23: 7:53
Mile 24: 8:00
Mile 25: 7:59
Mile 26: 7:58
Mile 26.2: 2:35

The right on Hereford snuck up on me quicker than I expected, which has never happened in the history of the marathon, and I didn't dare attempt a surge until I saw the street sign. I checked my Garmin as I turned onto Boylston and knew my second fastest marathon time was within reach if I hauled ass. So haul ass I did. I crossed the line in 3:26:55, exactly twice the time it took me to run the first 13.1 miles. For the first time in 3 tries, I executed a successful Boston Marathon strategy. I have never been so happy about achieving my B goal in my life.



In conclusion: I ran this race more conservatively than I had planned, but in the end, I think it absolutely paid off. While 65 degrees doesn't seem sweltering, I assure you that after 26.2 miles in unrelenting sun, it sure feels that way. Newton can eat you up even when conditions are good, and I've heard from many, many people who ran Monday that the second half of the race broke them. It was not easy for me by any means, but I feel so incredibly proud of myself that I got to Newton with enough gas in the tank to tackle the hills.

More over, I feel like I'm "back." I wondered, after the Hamptons, if maybe I'd lost the touch, and I'd never have a successful race again, and I can't tell you how good it feels to have proved myself wrong. I'm definitely not an imposter - I am a Boston qualifier again.





And now, I'm a beer drinker again too.

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Sunday Wrap Up: Superstitions, Omens, and Juju

I took an easy shake out run around my parents' neighborhood in Connecticut this morning before heading up to Boston. As I turned the final corner back home, I spied my parents' cat, Jingles, who had been missing since Friday. I stopped my Garmin, scooped her up and carried her home to a delighted family. So my final run before Boston was cut a tenth of a mile short, but I view this as a pretty good omen.

While finding lost cats for karma's sake isn't something I always do before marathons, I do have a couple of habits I try to adhere to so as not to offend the race day powers that be. Years ago, I was taught that wearing your race gear before finishing is "bad juju," so while I did acquire another Boston Marathon jacket today (thanks to the ever supportive TG), I won't be donning it until after I pass across that blue and yellow line on Boylston Street. What I will do, even a day before the race, is lay out my bib person.





The other thing I'll do a day before the race is put my goals in writing. Not because I think you need to put what you want out in the universe, The Secret-style, or anything. But, well, it can't hurt. But first, the wrap up.

Number of Miles Run This Week: 14. Sheesh. It's hardly worth the effort it takes to put on workout clothes if you're only going to run for 25 minutes at a time.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 0

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: n/a

With that out of the way, let's get down to business: race day goals:

A+: 3:20:xx. This is what I've been training for, what I missed in the fall, and what I sure am hungry for tomorrow. That, and a beer. But I'm all too familiar with how tough this course is, so this is the "holy shit everything is absolutely perfect, stars are aligned, Hall & Oates' 'You Makes My Dreams Come True' is on the radio, lost cats are found, Maine Beer's Peeper Ale is on tap, perfect" kind of goal.

A: Sub 3:24. A shiny new PR, the likes of which I haven't seen since 2011. I had a dream last night I ran a 3:22 and was pissed. Don't be pissed if you run a PR, Claire. Be psyched!

B: Sub 3:33. I ran a 3:33 in my first Boston, so a course PR and another Boston qualifer wouldn't be a bad outcome.

C: Sub 3:42. Better than the Hamptons. Please, let this go better than the Hamptons.

D: Don't shit self. In 16 marathons, I've never missed this goal, and I sure as shit (pun intended) don't plan to start tomorrow.






And with that, I'm off on the next great adventure. But before I go, there's one last bit of superstitious activity I have to do:

"Tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther... And one fine morning -- "

Friday, April 18, 2014

His Only Advice

When I ran my first Boston Marathon in 2011, my Uncle John, who - let the record show - once beat Jim Ryun in the mile, sent me an email about the course.  Titled "My Only Advice," it wasn't turn-by-turn directions - "right on Hereford, left on Boylston" isn't too tough to remember on your own - but it was as close to it as could be. 

After a disastrous performance in the Hamptons last fall, it's no secret that my confidence in the marathon is a little shakier than it once was.  But as I re-read Uncle John's email this afternoon, the very last line gave me the boost I needed headed into the weekend:

Enjoy yourself.  The Boston Marathon is a world-class event, and you know they won't let just anyone run it.  Only the best.

Sending my very best wishes to all my friends who will be joining me in Hopkinton, especially Jenny, Chanthana, and Maura.  We earned it.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Blue Apron Review and Giveaway

For most of my twenties, dinner was more often than not either cheese and crackers (and alcohol) or carrots and hummus (and alcohol).  I saw nothing wrong with this.  Once TG and I started spending most nights together (I mean before he says goodnight and then leaves to sleep in his own apartment, right Dad?), I felt I probably should break myself of this habit. Not because I thought it would be healthier for both of us to have actual nutrients, but because I didn’t want him to know about my bachelorette lifestyle.  Because the foundation of all healthy relationships is changing who you are and lying about who you were.

Slim pickings...

For a time, this was an easy habit to break because we went out to dinner every night.  Like, every single night.  Eventually, though, I realized that wasn’t sustainable in the long term. (By “realized” I mean “opened my retirement account statement”).  So we started going to the grocery store. 

This was not successful.  We roamed around the aisles, changing our minds 30 times about what it is we were going to prepare, until I was so starving and hangry that we had to order dinner anyway. 

This continued apace while simultaneously, my girlfriends began The Social Diet, and suddenly my cheese-and-cracker habit wasn’t just apparent to myself and my boyfriend, but my girlfriends as well.  Girlfriends who also have busy lives, many of whom have husbands, a child even!  Girlfriends who manage to prepare legitimate, healthful dinners from ingredients that cannot be found in Duane Reade (related: TG hates when I buy groceries from Duane Reade, but I think if I can get hummus and shampoo at the same time, why wouldn’t I?!).  And so, in deference to health awareness and also fear of being shamed and judged by my peers, I formally and publicly committed to cooking more.

In the spirit of the Social Diet, my friend Liza immediately offered a show of support for this goal.  She explained that she and her fiancĂ© had tried Blue Apron and had a free trial they’d be happy to give me.  With nothing to lose, I snapped it right up.

I had heard of Blue Apron from a couple of friends and colleagues, and one of TG’s siblings had even tried it before.  The gist is this: once a week, Blue Apron sends you fresh ingredients and recipes for 3 meals, for 2, 4, or 6 people.  The service costs $9.99 per person per meal, or about $60 per order for the two of us.  You choose a delivery window (we do Thursdays between 6pm and 10pm, though the box typically arrives before 8pm), and your food (every ingredient required except, salt, pepper, and olive oil) and recipes are delivered in an insulated box.  Fair warning: the box weighs about 15 lbs, so maybe if you live on a fifth floor walk up, this isn’t for you.  Everything within the box is labeled, which is handy if you don’t necessarily visually know the difference between cilantro and parsley and think one tastes like ass and belongs in the garbage can…  You can specify if you’re vegetarian, or don’t want to receive a specific type of meat (say, seafood).  So far as I can tell, however, other dietary restrictions aren’t accommodated.  I am allergic to garlic (yes, it does suck), which as you probably know is a very common ingredient in recipes, but I just leave it out when I’m cooking.  And I was serious about throwing out the cilantro.  Otherwise, though, part of what I’ve liked about Blue Apron thus far is that you’re given recipes and ingredients you might not otherwise try.  I don’t like olives, for example, but included them in an awesome tilapia recipe last week and gobbled them up.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.

The "knick knacks" are all the little ingredients for each recipe, like spices
Dorito loves the Blue Apron boxes, which is also great.
The week of our free trial, TG and I first decided to make turkey burger sliders with arugula salad with toasted hazelnuts.  This seemed both tasty and most important, simple enough for our first foray.  I discovered quickly, however, that my apartment, in which my kitchen, living room, dining room, and foyer are in fact all the same space, is not really designed for tandem cooking.  I banished TG to the couch and started chopping and mincing and mixing and pan frying.  I’ll be honest – it was a bit overwhelming.  The sink filled up with dirty dishes rapidly, and with very limited counter space, I wasn’t sure where to put what I had prepped while still having room to prep the remaining ingredients.  Panko breadcrumbs ended up all over the floor, and shallot peels clogged the drain.  Considering my distaste for disorder, this was a lot for me to handle. 
 
Recipe cards
But once the dinner made it to the plates, it tasted good!  While we might have made burgers for ourselves, we probably wouldn’t have thought to use ground turkey, nor made them sliders, and we definitely wouldn’t have added minced shallots and Dijon to the patties.  Plus, I loved that the recipe included both a protein and a side, and included in the directions when to prepare what parts of each.  So often, my problem and hesitation in cooking is that I can make a main dish, and pick a side to go with it, but don’t know how to time them so they’re both done and hot and edible at the same time.  Granted, this side was a salad, which is raw and generally takes 11 seconds to prepare, but there was some hazelnut toasting required.  So while nothing revolutionary, our first Blue Apron meal was a success!

Since then, we’ve received two more deliveries (these we paid for), and have made a number of other meals, including pan seared cod with roasted potatoes, the aforementioned tilapia with a Mediterranean sauce, chickpea fritters with ratatouille, and chicken, artichoke, and spinach casserole.  Unlike the turkey burger sliders, we never in a million years would have made anything close to any of these meals, and were very pleasantly surprised with each of them (or at least I was.  TG is too polite to tell me if he thinks this all tastes like shit.  Just last night, for example, he ate an artichoke that definitely could have stood to have a few more of the outer layers peeled off before human consumption.  Sorry about that…).  The recipes also allow for substitutions – the casserole we made last night could easily be made with basically any other vegetables.  The recipes are portioned for two, and with rare exception, there haven’t been leftovers, which could be a plus or a minus, depending on how willing you are to reheat tilapia in your office microwave for lunch.  Since we started, I’ve definitely gotten better at managing the mess that cooking makes, which is an efficiency I think only comes with practice.  I’ve also gotten better at not stressing out about the mess when it happens  (the sauce accompanying the tilapia ended up splattered all over the white walls of the kitchen/living room/dining room).  Remembering to take the batteries out of the smoke alarm before getting started also helped reduce my mid-cooking anxiety.  But in just a few shorts weeks of cooking once or twice a week and I already feel like “hey!  I can totally do this!”

Directions with pictures AND order of operations hints

There are, of course, a few draw backs.  I already mentioned that there isn’t much in the way of accommodating for food allergies.  Also, Blue Apron isn’t cheap. Granted, $9.99 per person per meal is drastically less expensive than going out to dinner every night, but if you’ve grocery store savvy, you can probably buy these same ingredients on the cheap (my local grocery store is Whole Foods, so it’s probably a wash for me).  I like that Blue Apron provides the tablespoon of Hungarian paprika required for a recipe, rather than a whole bottle I’d have to get at the grocery store, but that obviously comes at a price.  If you live in a place where you have separate rooms for the kitchen, living room, dining room, and foyer, maybe you would rather buy in bulk, store left overs, and save money.  Also, if you live in a place where you have separate rooms for the kitchen, living room, dining room, and foyer, aren’t you fancy? Asshole…

Blue Apron also thinks I’m going to cook much more often than I am.  Once a week was my goal, and thus far I’ve achieved it, but between my schedule and TG’s, we aren’t home three nights a week to cook and eat, ever, but 3 meals is the minimum you can order.  I did eventually discover that you can change your Blue Apron delivery schedule, and now we’re slated to receive a box about once a month, rather than once a week, which means I can spread those three meals out over more than 7 days.  If I know we’re not going to cook immediately, I toss the meat in the freezer.  I've also discovered it’s kind of difficult to cancel once you sign up for the free delivery, which is sort of a dick move on their part, since you have to provide your credit card information to register for the free trial.  But apparently all it takes is an email to end your subscription.  Still, that information is kind of hidden on their website, and requires more than just “click here to make it stop.”

Lastly, while the website indicates the recipes take 35 minutes on average, my experience has been more like 45 minutes to an hour, but that could be because I’m still getting my feet wet in the food preparation department.  I find listening to This American Life is a nice way to make the time pass, and I happen to have plenty of time on my hands, since my longest run in this, the last week of my taper, is a whopping 4 miles...

As a whole, though, I recommend Blue Apron.  The recipes are easy to follow but without being overly simple - they still make me feel like more of a chef than I would otherwise.  I’m given exposure to ingredients I wouldn’t ordinarily use/eat.  At 500-700 calories a pop with a good dose of vegetables in each, these are on the healthy side.  And they allow for practice at preparing ingredients and cooking, and I can’t overstate how much this has improved my confidence and in turn, my desire to cook, in just a few weeks.

Blue Apron hasn’t reached out to me (nor I to them), sponsored this, or compensated me in any way.  I’m just sharing because I’d like to think I’m not the only 30 year old in a tiny apartment who hasn’t mastered feeding herself, and Blue Apron helps rectify that.  And if you would like help rectifying that, you can get a free trial too!  Leave a comment with a funny story about a cooking mishap and I’ll choose someone to receive a free trial of Blue Apron*


*To receive Blue Apron, you have to live somewhere in here. Also, based on the website/my experience, you do have to enter a credit card in order to register for the free trial, but I promise they don’t charge you for the trial.  If you don’t want to keep paying for it after the trial, email cancellations@blueapron.com  before the weekly cutoff, which will be 6 days before the next automatically scheduled delivery (aka the day after you receive your trial box).  

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

On Boston, Again

364 days ago, I read something that has stayed with me for one year less one day.  It was an opinion piece in the Times about the Boston Marathon bombings, and terrorism more broadly. You can, and should, read it in full here, but the lines that most resonated with me were the following:


Cave dwelling is for terrorists. Americans? We run in the open on our streets — men and women, young and old, new immigrants and foreigners, in shorts not armor, with abandon and never fear, eyes always on the prize, never on all those “suspicious” bundles on the curb. In today’s world, sometimes we pay for that quintessentially American naĂŻvetĂ©, but the benefits — living in an open society — always outweigh the costs.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Monday Wrap Up: Thoughts From Race Week

The insomnia has kicked in, I've convinced myself my left hip needs to be replaced, I thought about my next meal while I was still in the process of devouring an ice cream cone last night, and I've checked the long range forecast more often than I've checked my work email. Race week is upon us.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 34. I hadn't remembered from last fall that this training plan has 800s two weeks before the race. It does, and that's rude.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 0. 30 days dry. The desire still burns deep.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: n/a. I've had more club soda in the last month that I've had in the preceding 30 years.

This weekend's workouts were pretty good confidence boosters for me. I ran 13.1 on a hilly route on Saturday in 1:42 and never felt like I was pushing the pace. 1:42 x 2 makes a 3:24 marathon, which is my current PR. With a little race day adrenaline thrown into the equation, something in that vicinity should be pretty reasonable, even with a little pace drop off (let's be real - negative splits have never been my thing). And while Sunday's 800s seemed unnecessarily cruel, I was comfortably faster than 3:20 for each (3:10, 3:12, 3:08, 3:08).

This week is about sleeping enough, eating well, and not making myself crazy. I'll pop in again with further thoughts and updates, but in the meantime, please drink beers outside for me - this weather is killing me.

Monday, April 7, 2014

Monday Wrap Up: Taper Worm and Other Affllictions

The taper is in full force, which I know because all sorts of problems and complications are presenting themselves. First and foremost is the insatiable hunger, or Taper Worm, of which I'm acutely aware considering my participation in the Social Diet. Friday I had two dinners, each made complete with its own dessert. In the spirit of the Social Diet, I'm trying at least to feed the Taper Worm with good-for-me foods, but yesterday when I was in Whole Foods buying fruit and yogurt, I walked out with some sea salted chocolate caramels as well. The heart wants what it wants.

In addition to the traditional hunger associated with the taper, I'm also suffering from random ailments. During yesterday's run, I had a bloody nose for 5 full miles. Not just a little blood either; my gloves and the front of my shirt were covered in blood spatter, straight out of CSI. At this rate, I'll probably acquire a case of gangrene by Thursday. Unless eating is a cure for that, in which case, I'm safe.

Something that hasn't been bothering me of late is my psoas, though I can't say that's a result of the standing desk. My commitment has been halfhearted at best. That said, I haven't experienced the sharp pain I first described in quite some time, though the psoas and general hip area are still spots I "notice" from time to time. So naturally instead of being proactive and taking steps to prevent it from creeping up again, I'll go back to doing exactly what it was I was doing before, but lazier: instead of deconstructing my standing desk, now mostly I complain about how the phone is difficult to reach from its perch when I'm sitting.

Number of Miles Run Last Week: 41. Yesterday's "long" run was just 16 miles, and while I was pretty tired throughout (possibly from the blood loss), I really focused on attacking the hills in preparation for my upcoming assault on Newton. It's finally spring-like here, so I'm looking forward to the next two weeks of easy miles just to be outside.

Number of Beers Consumed Last Week: 0. They say it takes 21 days to form a habit. I've been sober for 22. I hope and expect this won't be a difficult habit to break when the time comes.

Types of Beers Consumed Last Week: n/a.



Wednesday, April 2, 2014

In Defense of SoulCycle

SoulCycle gets a bad rap from many, many people.  Just this weekend, the Times’ Style Section poked fun at the spinning empire - without naming names, but if you’re at all familiar with the SoulCycle brand (including the admittedly eye-roll inducing skull-and crossbones logo), you know who was being referenced.  Truth be told, much of it was spot on: it’s dark, it’s loud, it’s INSANE to throw punches with weights when you’re surrounded by 70 other people in a room smaller than a New York City apartment with hands so slick with sweat you dropped your SmartWater 3 hill sprints ago.  And the article didn’t even touch upon what many people think is the most egregious part - it’s expensive.  $34 per class, not including the price of shoes and water, and many studios don’t have locker rooms and shower facilities.  All that, coupled with the heavy-handed “find your soul” “athlete, warrior, rockstar” mantas, can come across as wildly out of touch, I’ll admit.  It’s a fitness class, not a religious ceremony.
 
Sidewalk graffiti.  So edgy!

Indulge me for a minute.

I’ve mentioned that last year, I wasn’t in a great place.  I was unhappy and unfilled, and found it very easy to feel very sorry for myself.  I adopted a cat.  That should really tell you all you need to know.  
I regret nothing. I LOVE HIM!
During this time, it was hard for me to feel good about most things, and that extended to running.  Ultimately, the act of running did cheer me up, but the process of going for a run – and I’m just talking about getting dressed and going down three flights of stairs – seemed insurmountable.  And so, I decreased my running dramatically, not even cracking 100 miles in a month for the first couple of months of 2013.

In spite of all of this (which I realize sounds dire, and I guess reflecting back, it kind of was), I kept going to SoulCycle.  Truthfully, the biggest motivation was a financial one; running was free, so there were few concrete and immediate negative repercussions to bailing, aside from, you know, continuing to not run and feel bad about it.  But to register for a SoulCycle class and not attend was to throw away $34.  So while there were nights where I literally cried myself to sleep (not just because Dorito bites and scratches), there were also mornings where I took my puffy eyes and skull-and-crossbone clad body to a spin class. 

Often, SoulCycle instructors will encourage you to set a goal for the class, and will remind you throughout to think about your goal.  This morning, for example, my goal was to really focus on my crunches, so there is plenty of vapid and vain goal setting going on, believe me.  But last year, my goal every single ride was to spend the 45 minutes not thinking about what was making me anxious and unhappy.  No “I have totally screwed up that work project.”  No “I’m going to be alone forever.”  No “I’m so selfish because these are such ‘first-world’ problems.”  For 45 minutes, I just wanted to not be sad.  And I swear to you, trite as it sounds, being in that dark room, surrounded by 70 other sweaty people, listening to weird Rihanna remixes at maximum volume might as well have been a religious ceremony, it impacted me so significantly.  If nothing else, for 45 minutes a day, I felt better.

I’m not claiming SoulCycle was the cure for my sadness and anxiety (also not a cure – actual therapy, which did nothing but made me feel dramatically worse, and which I ended after about 4 sessions.  Incidentally, breaking up with that wackadoo therapist was actually a turning point in my mood and mental health, as it felt to me like the first time I was making a conscious decision to do something that would make me happy).  But it was something that gave me, if not outright joy, than at least not depression, at a time when I needed it.  

So even though I'm back to being (mostly) happy and (generally) healthy, there is still something about being in the dark of the studio that makes me feel like I’m taking care of myself, beyond just exercising.  If that means I’m drinking the $34 Kool-Aid, so be it.  At least I draw the line at the $288 cashmere throw, adorned with – what else, skull-and-crossbones.