It seemed like a good idea at the time...

Morning, all! There's a funny new website I'd like to direct your attention to:
http://www.mykitchenfailures.com/

Definitely worth a chuckle and more tongue in cheek than the hippo site. Reading it, however, got me thinking about two things: (A) We haven't updated the hippo site in ages. Frass. And (2) I had an epic failure of such proportion, the likes of which should be uttered never more...which is a fancy pants way of saying I f#cked up something that seemed like a good idea at the time. (I won't even terrorize you with the risotto incident. When Moda's away the Mikey will play? Hardly. I'll just f#ck up dinner)

First off, let's just say I love shopping w/Mom. And not for the "Hey I'm gonna get free stuff" angle but I like being able to play faux nutrition expert when she makes her choices. A few month's ago, we went out to dinner in the Ridgedale area and afterwards she mentioned she wanted to pick up a few things at TJ's. Awesome! So we loped over there and meandered for a bit, picking up bits and bots and turning mom on to the awesomeness which are freeze dried wasabi peas as a snack. Before completing her purchase, my eyes were drawn to these little morsels:


That's right...mixing the two most awesome foods in the world: Seafood AND Sausage? It HAD to be good. And b/c Moda made a vom face, I opted to cook it while she went on her road trip. So while they were thawing, I read the ingredients which played out like a list of all white fish mashed together. I was anxious to get the things on the grill when I noticed the explicit instruction: "Pan Fry or Bake only- Do NOT Grill" ...oooookay?

So into the pan they went while I spent the next 20 minutes carefully turning them. Boy were they smoky. No...really...they're issuing billows of black smoke. In spite of the windows being open, I had to bring the fans downstairs. (Note to self- Next big reno project? A ductless vent/fan for over the stove)

Finally they were done...or at least they must have been with all the rigmarole that went into extricating them from the pan. And for the curious, yes. They were awful. Not wholly unpalateable, just. Well they downright tasted bad. And I made it through 2.5 before tossing the lot. (I had to eat'em. Mom bought them, after all) The worse part? Well the beginning worst part was the spatter, which had managed to cover the wall next to and behind the stove/side of the microwave with an oily fish goo that took ample amounts of 409 to remove.

The really worst part? The smell...In spite of cleaning everything top to bottom, twice, my kitchen retained that smell for the next two weeks. My roommate, ever the thinker and lover of incense burned sandalwood ad infintum with the windows down. Which only served to mask the fish smell with a woody sweetness.

What I've learned is: Fish and sausage are definitely not chocolate and peanut butter. And to relegate the sausage to grill-outside- where any smoky failures can just dissapate in the wind.

<---Trader Joe's Fail.

Late-A-Whirl!

You come back to write with some nearly 5 month old bull crap and this is what you bring us? Really, P? Leave me the frack alone. This was the first saved post from May.

I can't afford art, and have a terrible eye for it. Even the stuff I convince myself I like I talk myself out of. (Example- Currently, where the copy of the Declaration of Independence was hanging on my stairwell, now exists a caricature picture drawn of my best friend and I from the Taste of MN circa 1995. Which meant he still had colored dreads and I still had a gap in my teeth. And he was stoned. There, I said it. And Moda hates it, and I'm just too lazy to take it down. And it is ridiculous.

Anyway, we finally got our buns out Art-A-Whirlin' and Johnstocking. The best thing I ended up finding was actually the most practical thing. Located in the Casket Farts building, was a little shop that specialized in glazing/pottery/cookware. Their casserole dishes had glazed in recipes, as did their mixing bowls (for dips, etc.) and while they were all pretty I ended up with the dumbest of all- A spatula/spoon/turner rest for your stove top:

Moda is the happy owner of the blue twin, and let's be real- It's a pretty smart deal when you think about it. Dishwasher safe. Image emblazoned with what you are supposed to set on it for the dipshittedly challenged. It had to be mine, of course. (And buying a set of soup bowls with soup recipes? Really? They're called cans, lady. And they contain. Soup) So yeah. Me for the win.

This next guy...well I took a picture of it at Rewind! (The local vintage shop, while Moda looked for cowboy boots) This was purely a nostalgia image that I'm pretty sure will only have an emotional impact for my mom, brother, and I.

Yes, a knit hat with Olympia beer cans sewn into it. If they had an empty drum of Carter Hill pipe tobacco with change in it I probably would have gotten teary.

See, when we were really little kids during the summer and dad was at work (this'd be before mom went back to school full time to get her RN degree) we'd don our dungaree's and Olympia hats, hit the Taystee bakery outlet for a couple of boxes of small glazed donuts (in a little blue box. I think they were called "Mickey Cakes") toss the Popeil Pocket Fisherman and a few other kid-sized fishing rods in the back of the Pinto and hit the Coon Rapids Dam area for some fishing. Occasionally, we'd detour to this local cemetery to picnic (Don't ask. Their was a really old tombstone with a lamb on top my mom thought was "neat") and when we fished we usually only pulled up carp, sunnies, or bullheads...but we always wore those stupid hats.

If I didn't think the $25 price tag was enough to pay for nostalgia, I'd have bought it.

Good bye, West Coast

The last day out was fairly uneventful so feel free to skip and slide to future entries-

We slept in as late as our bodies allowed us after polishing off all that wine and while I packed Mo wrote a message to the owners with our kindest regards. In skidaddling back to Portland, we took the most direct route which wound up being probably the most twisty and stomach churning commute through the hillside (Seriously. Moda started to get ill) Before stopping for breakfast at this little roadside dive. (The kind where I ordered a Spanish Omelette which, in their estimation, meant scrambled eggs with a jar of salsa dumped on it.) Nourished, we headed back.

With some time to kill before stopping at L and D's, we had beerz in the sunshine on the patio at the Kennedy School. Then it was a gas up ($50?!?!) a car drop off (bye, Impala), and the airport. The trip was w/o incident, and we were able to jack into the lil' TV's so we could watch cable movies and kill time. (btw- "The Talented Mr. Ripley" ain't got no momma)

Oh, and they lost my mo-fo'ing luggage.

"Is that where the pirate ship was supposed to come from?" (Day 6)

(Ed. Note- The Christmasbaby Blog is going to be a play by play of our trip to Portland last week. What you'll be reading, matey's, is my observances/experiences of the trip for your amusement. Links to applicable restaurants/sites will be included in case you're planning a trip any time soon. Dates listed are from Saturday, June 12th through Friday the 18th.)

Today was a great day and a little sad since it marked our final full day on the West coast but it beside the wedding it was the day I was most excited about- Cannon Beach. Ocean. Salt water. And while I wasn't planning on body surfing in that chilly nonsense I was bound and determined to (A) check out Haystack Rock where the filmed the ending of "The Goonies" and (B) get my feet wet.

We breakfasted at Wanda's Cafe' and Bakery in Nehalem which was awwwesome. (http://www.restaurantica.com/or/nehalem/wandas-cafe-bakery/23322650/) Moda opted for the Huevo's Rancheros and I dug into an omelete with scallions/asparagus/goat cheese with a side of chicken apple sausage (Yum). Highly recommended. Then it was off to da beach!
http://www.cannon-beach.net/

We doffed our kicks and went for a lovely walk to the rock, stopping to splash a bit here and there and not really minding the chill. (And you damn straight I wore my Hawaiian Chunk shirt. I refrained, however, from truffling or shuffling. Nobody wants to see that) We checked out the anemones, starfish, and other wildlife. And man. That's a big frickin' rock. However it did prompt the question from Mo "Is that where the pirate ship was supposed to come out of?"

A fine misty drizzle started up on our way back to the car and I was sort of saddened to know that we'd be missing the fun upcoming stuff like the sandcastle building contest and the beach front 10K. (How awesome would that have been?!?) It was that kind of day. What we were in the mood for after our little hike was a good Bloody Mary and some snick snacks before heading out. And where else would we have gone besides Mo's? Of COURSE we went to Mo's.
http://www.moschowder.com/home.cfm?dir_cat=13368 (And did someone pick up an ironic hoodie with the name of the restaurant? OF COURSE SHE DID!) It was pretty damn good chowder, but I was a little surprised that they were "out" of oysters. The BM was pretty good and we split a "Mo's" ale. OF COURSE WE DID!

Overall, and enjoyable day that started sunning up once we left. OF COURSE IT DID! Final thought on the beach- I was actually surprised that they didn't have one piece of "Goonies" related schwag or a sign or anything up and about. That must've been saved for Astoria up the road.

We peddled up the coast to Seaside, stopping for coffee and to poke our noses into the local museum before heading back to the lodge. (Having decided that it would be criminal NOT to stay a second night at the quaint hot tub lodge. OF COURSE WE DID!) After popping into some antique stores we went back to the room where we alternately watched the sunset on the porch steps, read, drank wine, schmoogled the friendly local cats, and (in my case) napped before we couldn't take much more serenity and were ready for dinner. Our first choice, a cute little bistro across the street, was closed for seating for the evening so we doubled back and headed over to the Sea Shack-http://www.theseashack.biz/

Capitalizing on our 10% local restaurant discount, we had made another intial trip promise that we'd have some "really awesome seafood". While the seafood and ambience didn't disappoint (we were seated in a quiet area with a terrific view of the sunset over the bay) it wasn't, uber-remarkable? Moda's salmon was delicious but hard to navigate when it was swimming in butter. My dungeness crab was savory and delightful but I forgot how much of a pain in the ass it can be toward the end. (All the cracking and the dah bah dee bah doo. Rigamarole)

We hoofed it back for more hottub time and wound down by making short work of our vineyard wine and watching "He's just not that into misogynitic Rom-Com's that set back the woman's movement 45 years..." What? That movie sucked taint.

When Wine-ing is a good thing. (Day 5)

(Ed. Note- The Christmasbaby Blog is going to be a play by play of our trip to Portland last week. What you'll be reading, matey's, is my observances/experiences of the trip for your amusement. Links to applicable restaurants/sites will be included in case you're planning a trip any time soon. Dates listed are from Saturday, June 12th through Friday the 18th.)

No sleeping in for the wicked! Everyone was up and bustling to get packed and moving. After a quick breakfast we KP'ed as best we could and spread hugs as Moda and I were on our way for our solo jaunt to the sea. It was also the 1st full day of misty gray that didn't go away. I confess that this sort of colored my mood. My bad.

Our 1st stop was the David Hill Winery (http://www.davidhillwinery.com/) where we were impressed enough to walk away with 3 bottles. I also learned that the wine tastings are ridiculously informal. You pay. Stand at the counter. And swill. (For some reason I thought it'd be a swanky affair)

Then next stop was the Montinore Winery where our Boston Celtics loving pourer chatted us up and we discovered the local "wine kitty". (It was cute, and I missed Georgie) It was about here that I get an urgent message from my temp agency that sounded suspiciously like I was getting the "let go" message. No good. Fortunately they were just checking in, but for about 10 minutes I had that stomach dropping feeling I'd be getting home to unemployment. This, friends, is what really colored my day.

We were back on track to hit the Tillamook Cheese Factory -(http://www.tillamookcheese.com/VisitorsCenter/) First of all, TIllamook smells like Iowa. Cow. Shit. Central. We hadn't eaten since breakfast so we were both peckish and punchy. The factory itself was kind of disturbing. People mill in and out because it's free and they get free cheese. Watching them process the big, shiny blocks was...weird. Not cool. Weird.

Then it was back out. We finally "saw" the ocean and began our trial in finding a inexpensive place to put us up. I was able to get my kicks off and my feet wet in spite of the drizzle. So that mission was accomplished. But I tell you, we must have stopped in a half a dozen places and it was all expensive nonsense. (And to the offices that didn't have anyone in them? Rude)

Eventually we found our way into Wheeler where we found our gem. Tired and a little disgruntled I mosey'd into the this place on the bay armed w/my usual questions (How much, do they accept AAA, etc.) The owner gave me the rundown on the inexpensive rooms, also volunteering that they rent out 2 movies, supply breakfast food, and have free books and games. I mean, watch their video. They're adorable. *(http://www.wheeleronthebay.com/)

I told him I'd consult my companion and get back to him. We meandered to the lodgings closest to the bay and discovered their "suites"- They have their own matching Adirondacks on a "porch" as well as a hot tub. It was a little out of our price range, but eff it. We booked it. And it turns out that you get 10% your tab at the local eateries. So we "rented" "Shitter Island" and "He's just not that into you", were given the low-down on the Lodge kitties ("Don't let them into your room") and got ourselves cozy. Dinner was right across the street at Tsunami (Not great, but definitely serviceable- http://www.facebook.com/pages/Wheeler-OR/Tsunami-Bar-and-Grill/288516621536) and did we crack open some wine, bundle up and read on the porch, hot tub, then watch a flick? You're damn straight.


ps- ICYC, most pictures are up on FB to all my gentle readers who prefer visual aids. Coming up tomorrow? GOONIES ROCK!

I just can't quit you, Switchback Mountain...Day 4)

(Ed. Note- The Christmasbaby Blog is going to be a play by play of our trip to Portland last week. What you'll be reading, matey's, is my observances/experiences of the trip for your amusement. Links to applicable restaurants/sites will be included in case you're planning a trip any time soon. Dates listed are from Saturday, June 12th through Friday the 18th.)

The Right Reverend and I rolled out of bed reasonably early and strangely ambulatory (read: Not hungover) on our final day at the Sheraton Airport. While I packed and collected Moda hit the fitness center while I mulled over brefkist ideas from the bride and groo- Scratch that. Husband and wife's list. We opted for the the Cricket Cafe' in SE Portland as a hot ticket after perusing the menu and hearing that their Bloody Mary's are par excellence'. (Peruse, please. I'll wait. http://cricketcafepdx.com/)

On our way there we got to experience our first real Portland rain. You get a lot of preconceived notions of OR/NW seaboard weather from stories and residents. How it's gloomy, on par with-say-London. High suicide rates. Blah. It wasn't so bad IMO, just strange. The sun cracked through patches of clouds and the rain comes down in a fine drizzly mist. Not proper rain at all. Non-committal. Enough to maybe kibosh that day in the park you had planned but not enough to get your hopes up that it'd clear later on. Antagonistic rain.

Pulling up to the Cricket I saw the weirdest thing- A big ol' frassy raven was drinking out of a tiny creamer pitcher @ a recently vacated table, and every time it lifted it's head the beak was shock white where it'd been drinking. Nothing major here, folks. Just a weird image.

Oh, and breakfast? Made of awesome. The BM's were my favorite on the trip so far.

We decided to kill some time waiting for Shade and Krump down at the Sound Grounds coffee house (http://www.soundgroundscoffee.com/) when the real rain hit. And I mean, a persistent dump. My previous comments about noncommittal precipitation? Erroneous. We all tried to come up with a plan B (today was going to be hikes etc.) but after being unable to agree on a movie we all split up, with Krump/Moda/Myself deciding after an optimistic break in the rain that we'd try checking out Multnomah Falls. http://trips.stateoforegon.com/multnomah_falls/

Located about 1/2 hour out of Portland, the falls were a breathtaking spectacle to see first hand up close. We managed to get our tourist on and snap some pics on the bridge before deciding to hike the 1.5 miles up to the tippy-top. From here (and the lower points of the trail) everything was hunky dory...until we reached the 1st market that stated "Switchback 1 of 11".

Fudge.

See, Moda likes to make fun of my dislike of hills but it is a very real aggravation. Switchbacks are the hill equivalent of the annoying little brother who puts their hand an inch in front of your face and says "I'm not touching yooooou". The most direct way up may be arduous, but switchbacks make you act like you're in a live action version of a game of Donkey Kong. Crap, I hadn't even thought about them since '89 when we were in Scouts and hoofed it through the Teton's humping 40+ lbs worth of gear. And here I was in a sweatshirt at "Switchback 1 of 11"...("This one goes to 11...") already frassin.

Well, except the trail was about as wide as a phone book, slick from condensation from the falls, and right next to a sheer drop. Fun. We made it, took touristy pics, headed back down (by this time I was sweating then getting chilled. My dumb hands were turning icy-blue) and back to Portland proper. Enough with nature...let's bring on the sushi and beer. (Technically, we swung into a nice little Cuban bistro "Pambiche" for some snick snacks first. THERE WAS SO MUCH TO TRY! http://www.pambiche.com/ I should also add, that nary an evening went by w/o my eating black beans in one form or another)

We met up again with Shade at the Laurelthirst Pub where we took in some free bluegrass and toodled our way through the beer list. http://mysite.ncnetwork.net/res8u18i/laurelthirstpublichouse/id4.html

Fromt there, we started to head to our next overnight destination which was where S and L were staying in Lake Oswego (a fancy pants manor) but Shade was adamant we try this great sushi house ("There's usually a wait, but it's my favorite sushi place in the area") called Saburo. The wait was in fact prohibitive, but not bad enough that we didn't tough it out and boy howdy was it worth it. We gorged on these enormous rolls (almost too much so. You could barely get a grip w/your chopsticks and it was an even bigger struggle to get them in your mouth.) and for the 2nd time on the trip I had to ogle the bill and say "This can't be right..." Wow. http://saburos.com/Sushi/Saburos.html

We navigated through the Lake Oswego tangle town (passing a Ninjutsu school. For real. Ninjutsu) before settling in for our last chill night in Portland.

Today is a very special day...

(Ed. Note- The Christmasbaby Blog is going to be a play by play of our trip to Portland last week. What you'll be reading, matey's, is my observances/experiences of the trip for your amusement. Links to applicable restaurants/sites will be included in case you're planning a trip any time soon. Dates listed are from Saturday, June 12th through Friday the 18th.)


I burbled out of my slumber enough to have some coffee and drive Moda to L and D's then make it back. I feel like I had my route fairly well planned so my initial anxiety was waning. I got back to the hotel, started stretching for another shoulder rehab session/4 miler when the texts started coming- Turns out I needed to belay getting lunch, as there were three similar restaurants in the Portland Metro and the address I had may have been wrong, and to stay tuned.

Right. I was in it now. My contribution and participation into wedding frass was ON!

After a flurry of texts, I hit the gym then the hotel lobby PC's for some quality Google Map time where I printed off copy after copy (Thank you, Sheraton Portland Airport! For having free interweb and printing!) of directions from the hotel to the different locations and then out to the site. The final text was an 80% certainty that they knew the right locale so it was shower up, load the car, and head on out.

2 quick notes. I was wearing a tank top, shorts, and sandals. My finery was still in the drycleaning bag and I didn't want to start sweating 8 hours before the service. (My body was still on overheat mode from the treadmill) Today, was the first marked drop in temperature since we arrived- floating around the mid-50's. While I was comfortably cooling off with the windows down, greater Portland was shuffling about in hoodies, jeans, and gloves. I stopped in a convenience store and the clerk asked if it'd started warming up. Yeah.

2nd? Google maps is about as useful as an a@@hole on my elbow. I ended up running a big, unnecessary and frassy loop around the SE neighborhoods before arriving. Lame sauce.

I arrived at "Whole Bowl" and noticed they were stacking a box for a group which looked like it could be going to a wedding (score!) When I mentioned I was with the wedding they were full of congratulations to me (NO NO NO!!! Not I, friends!) After securing better directions to hwy 84 and buckling in our order, I was at last on my way. (FYI- On Whole Bowl? Okay, how dumb and simple is this idea- They serve one thing and one thing only= basically a rice bowl with accouterments. Right? But it was ridiculously filling, tasty as all get out, and fairly cheap. There was a line when I got there, and I got there when they opened. http://thewholebowl.com/what.html. This is a place that could/should sell at any of our co-ops. In other words, it belongs in Minneapolis.)

After heading out of Dodge, wending my way into Middle Earth, I arrived at the site-
http://bridalveillakes.com/

Idyllic doesn't even describe it. You're in a bowl of heaven. With a little pond to canoe around, filled with salamanders. Trails. Games. Creeks. And one of the most breathtaking (I said it) views of a sunset around.

And it was balls cold. Here's me, the Sasquatch, in my shorts and sandals and people are bundled in blankets- huddling by the fire. There was plenty to do to finish up before we all needed to get our gussy on (namely, try some of the local OR beers they had on tap) and before we knew it it was time to get ready.

The service was lovely. The bride and groom looked wonderful. There was the pre-requisite ring-bearer biff. Moda was great (more than a few folks recommended the clergy as a second profession). And it ended with all of us opening white umbrella's while they marched off from the ceremony. Pip wOOt Hollah for married friends. After dinner, a canoe trip w/Moda, a stellar sunset, cigars, speeches, and much, much wine we headed off. I periodically snoozed in the car and we passed out before our heads hit the pillows.

Final thoughts-
7 months of drizzle with 5 of sunshine. The plant life/foliage/flowers are everywhere and in constant bloom. The place is sick with produce and as I was later informed, everything comes up around there except for veggies that need a lot of hot sun. (Tomatoes, etc.) Honestly, I was loving the climate and as much as my soul loves the desert I could very much get used to being able to sleep with the windows down nightly in the summer.

Congratulations, L and D. We're so proud of you.

We're going to party...in a school? (Day 2)

(Ed. Note- The Christmasbaby Blog is going to be a play by play of our trip to Portland last week. What you'll be reading, matey's, is my observances/experiences of the trip for your amusement. Links to applicable restaurants/sites will be included in case you're planning a trip any time soon. Dates listed are from Saturday, June 12th through Friday the 18th.)


Moda dreamt of chasing down frogs to cut off their legs...I had weird dreams of being chased... That's what late nights and rich delicious food'll do to you I guess.

I woke up way too early for having had way too late a night but my shoulder was not letting me turn on my right side so after tossing and turning for a few hours I gave up and decided to try out the fitness center for some rehab. My ROM was terrible and I could barely lift anything on my right side but it was nice to get running again since I realized that it'd been only a week since the 1/2 marathon and only the 3rd time I'd ran since completing it.

After we properly awoke, we decided to keep trying places on L and D's recommendation list and try bloody Mary's/breakfast at a popular P-town restaurant, the Tin Shed. (http://tinshedgardencafe.com/) After a wait on the patio reading we were sat in about 45 minutes. (In town, if a place is good AND popular be prepared to wait a while) The food was delicious, and also where I discovered OR's peculiar bloody habit- Instead of a pickle they add a pickled green bean to their BM's. Not so jarring that it'd ruin it but a strange taste sensation regardless. Moda was a big fan of her 'Mary. For my part, I was content. We headed back to the hotel for a power nap hoping we could squeeze in more activities b4 the Bride/Groom dinner that evening buuuut....Boom.

Fast forward 2.5 hours. Whoops.

We woke up with enough time to shower and toodle around the neighborhood pre-dinner where we checked out Powell's world famous bookstore (powells.com - To be fair, we wandered in to the cookbook store first before finding the used bookstore proper. Very cool, and would be an easy way to kill an hour or more.) We then headed out to school.

Now, the idea of an old school getting converted into living space isn't a new one. (The Porkchops used to live in an apartment that, I believe, was the cafeteria section in Uptown on 34th and Dupont) When I first heard that the party was here I didn't give it a second thought until I re-read the itinerary and said "Holy s#it. Holy S#IT!" (http://mcmenamins.com/427-kennedy-school-home) Class rooms converted into event space, smattered with hotel rooms that still have chalk boards? The gym pool is now the hotel pool? Two full service bars? The detention hall is now a cigar and whiskey lounge? Sign me up.

The party itself was lovely with family and friends taking time to share memories and stories with the room. (It was weird introducing myself as the "Right Reverend Mo's" boyfriend.) It spilled over into a smaller bar for a nightcap before heading back to have a good nights sleep.

I think we did well with offering our assistance to the wedding party with any odds and ends that they would like to delegate. Sure enough, our game plan for the game day was going to be as follows- Moda would get dropped off and head to the site with the party early in the a.m. I'd join around noon with the rental car and pick up the pre-ordered lunch for everyone. (Hooray for helping!) I started to fade while Moda checked, re-checked, and wrote down instructions on how to get to the restaurant and then to the site...And that's all I remember...except a little anxiety.

How the f#ck was I supposed to navigate around this baffling a##ed...but pretty...city?


Final thought- Everyone...and I mean everyone- has a tattoo in Portland. And not just something tribal or douche-y like a seahorse on their ankle- I mean unique unique unique. For example, our server at the Tin Shed had a Bettie Page-esque pin-up girl on her arm...except it had three heads. The 40-something bartender at Kennedy's had a starfish- On. His. Elbow.

The ink doth floweth. And it's crazy.

They sell wine at Target?

(Ed. Note- The Christmasbaby Blog is going to be a play by play of our trip to Portland last week. What you'll be reading, matey's, is my observances/experiences of the trip for your amusement. Links to applicable restaurants/sites will be included in case you're planning a trip any time soon. Dates listed are from Saturday, June 12th through Friday the 18th.)


We left at the boot crack of dawn from Mpls after the Bean dropped Moda and I off at MSP Airport. The trip was thusly- D and L's wedding for the first few days with the remainder of the trip on the road with no real destination except some wineries and the beach where they filmed the end of "Goonies". (My contribution to the planning)

We arrived in Seattle where we awaited our connecting flight to Portland, killing time in the airport bar and trying to find something edible...and alcoholic on the menu. (This mistake, a weak bloody Mary and terrible breakfast sandwiches would prove our most costly mistake on the trip, oddly enough.) We hit the tarmac (like a couple of RO-HOCK STARS) for the twin engine to skip us over to OR. What we were treated to on this gorgeous day was a pristine view of Mt.St. Helens (courtesy of our Captain) which took our breath away. I don't know what it is about mountainous vacations, but flying into them gives me chills every time.

We cabbed it over to the rental place (way cheaper via Priceline.com than renting at the airport) and ended up doubling back TO the airport to our hotel. The place was magical for it's unobstructed view of Mt. Hood- And 24 hour fitness/pool areas. Score. We managed some quick lunch over at the Red Robin before heading back.

After a quick power nap, we headed over to Washington park to meet Shade and the Krump for some hiking. (Nestled by the Kids museum, OR Zoo, and Arboretum, it boasts a beautiful rose garden that puts Harriet to shame: http://www.washingtonparkpdx.org/) While catching up with the fellas, we remarked that it was sunny AND beautiful- Two things not often associated w/the Pacific NW. We were informed that this was technically the 1st few days of summer and they endure 7 months of gray misty drizzle prior to that. (As evidenced by the # of people who were fish belly white. I mean, they make albino's look like George Hamilton. Really)

What we encountered on the trail as well as lush green beauty was a fair amount of post-rain mud patches. Some were easier to navigate than others, however the one we happened upon was larger than a king sized mattress and fairly deep. As my buddies delicately traipsed through it, I opted to skip step over to the dryer looking (looking...btw) embankment...only to find out that it was slick. So my leg went underneath me and I landed full out on my side in the middle of the puddle. This jacked my already f#cked up shoulder with white pain up to my ear and covered me from neck to foot in mud. 5 minutes into our walk.

I had to laugh.

We finished the hike easily enough, waiting for the mud to dry and (my) avoiding pictures when I could. I lied when I said I was okay and was anxious to get back for a shower and some ibuprofen. We had a mini-picnic w/some local wine and cheese in the parking lot before (ready BREAK) splitting up to get ready for the night 1 party.

We stopped in a local Target that also sold wine so that we'd have something to bring with (I know, right? Cheez-its, then wine. Go fig) and after being introduced to some more KS residents we headed out to meet the future Hubby and Weef over at Rontoms. (http://www.yelp.com/biz/rontoms-portland-2 FYI, that's right. Their website is a black page. I'm pretty sure there's a reason for that.)

The bar was packed, and I mean packed, and we were famished. The menu had 8 items on it, and it turned out 7 were "out". (Even though we saw burgers etc. passing through the kitchen window) The server was surly, as was pointed out, and we ended up just cock-tailing and commiserating in the corner away from the rabble with the rest of the wedding buddies.

Finally, we were about to eat our own faces off when it was suggested we hit Montage for late night snick snacks. (http://montageportland.com/pageContent.aspx?id=5 ) With the promise of alligator bites and frog legs (?) we trudged off. Trusting out Iphone map apps would get us there. And let me tell you, speakeasies are easier to find. I'd just finished my 14th tirade on the neighborhood (Industrial area? Check. Under an overpass? Check. Dimly lit? Check. I commented that this was like a "Batman" origin story waiting to happen) When we did find it, there were two trannies out front wearing fishnets up to their ears and a woman waiting for her (date?). This dude made his way out the front and slowly but surely as he approached her his torso got lower and lower to the ground until it was parallel and he could grab her for support. Whoops.

Turns out this place is quite the gem. We were seated promptly and the service was fast as can be. We enjoyed (the hell out of) the frog legs...who knew? Before tucking in to their signature make and some crawfish jambalaya while splitting a bottle of wine. So. Effing. Tasty. I was trying to do a mental tally of our bill when it was dropped in front of us and..."This can't be right." The first of many times I'd utter that phrase in Portland. It was sick cheap. And we went back and passed out with the knowledge we had a killer meal for the money.

13.1

We did it. On Sunday, we ran the Minneapolis Half-Marathon/Marathon. We got up at 4:30 munched a bagel (Muscle Milk for me) and biked to the Depot. Team Awesome convened and at 7 a.m. we were off. We stayed tight until around mile 4 when after a water station we were split up. Moda and I stayed close to our pace group (10:53) but closing in on the next mile she put on speed and I gave her the thumbs up and I ate her dust.

Around the 10K mark there was an incline and I started shallow breathing so I slowed down and gave my self some deep yogi breaths. (This also marks the point where the faster half marathoners were already doubling back)

Mile 7/8...I started noticing the pings. After mile 8 I had to start 1 minute walks then 8 minute runs.

Mile 9- The hip. I also learned the hard way that the crappy glucose packs they give you taste like prune favored paste. I was like a dog eating peanut butter.

Mile 11.5 was when my Achilles tendons both started snapping. It was also here that I think I started hallucinating.

Mile 12.5- There's a marching band. I sally forth for a strong finish.

So that's crossed off the list. We're already planning on a pre-July 4th 10K around Lake Harriet (twice) with our PR's (ideally) under 60 minutes.

And now, a timeline:

Mid-February: After hearing stories from her buddy, Moda gets it into her mind to run (at least) a half marathon. I agree to train with her. We begin by increasing our run time on the treadmill from our (normal) 30 minutes to around 45.

March: I'm topping out at 5 miles. Moda is already shooting for PRs and gets up to 6, then 8. Getting off the treadmill is a daunting task. I manage my 1st outdoor run. On a long evening walk, we come up with the moniker of "Pam and Sam". We join "Mapmyrun.com"

April: 1st 6 mile outdoor run for us. (Isles and Calhoun) Our long runs are officially relegated to the weekend followed by a big brunch somewhere where we'll moan getting up and walking again. Another nice weekend brings us to our first long trail run (and last run before the 10K) around Hyland. Moda starts having hip flexor frass, my lower back gets twitchy two days later. We both invest in foam rollers.

4/24 we run our first race. 10K. In the rain. We feel like achey drowned rats afterwards.

May: After a week long break, we start again. All runs, indoor and (mostly) outdoor runs are mapped and never less than 5.75/6 miles. The training culminates in a 10+ mile hike around all 3 of the chain of lakes. We have a CB gathering which involves softball and utilizing a lot of the fast twitch muscle fibers. I mightily manage to pull/strain both hamstrings. I can barely move for 3 days. Mo makes an appointment to see a sports physician for her hip. Our taper week begins Memorial Day weekend, and we're both feeling less pain after long distances.

Which leads us to race day...Pip Pip.

Time to run...

Whew.

Tomorrow is the big day. The Team Ortho Marathon. Typing this stuff out seems, I dunno, kinda silly. I mean, people don't gaze in awe when you tell them I'm not "running a marathon". I'm "Running a HALF marathon".

So to recap.

A little over 3 months ago my S.O. informs me that she wants to train for a half-marathon. I tell her I'd do it with her. We train. We do a 10K as a test. We're here.

I won't lie, I've been a little hesitant. Even going so far as to ponder whether I was gonna race at all. Mostly because while I'm impressed and supportive of my friends who've completed marathons in the past- It's never been something that has interested me. At all. And I was quite content with my 2-3 mile jogs to keep aerobicized. And then I thought "Fuck it. If Moda is gonna do it, I'll show my support". Yeah. Sovereignty.

And after our initial training the 10K ended up being ridiculously harder than expected, effing up my lower back and her hip, and the cause of countless foam roller appearances. And I started thinking...You know? It's all good and well on a runners forum, or in a book, magazine, etc. Everyone has advice. But my stupid anti-establishment nature hate being told what the fuck to do, especially when I don't actively seek the advice. It becomes evident that everyone who has ran a marathon has an opinion (And they're like superstitious pitchers. "I always rub a teaspoon of cayenne pepper on my bellybutton before a run" or "Eat a half a cup of Doritos with a shot of espresso"...UGH! ADVICE) on what's best... and my biggest things are "Okay. I know" and..."This hasn't prevented me from discovering a lot about this kind of training at age 35". For example:

-Fuck all.. I'm fatter and more out of shape than I was hoping to be. I knew 2 years ago when I needed to start investing in husky boy jeans that age was not my friend. When I started training, I vainly hoped that it'd start returning me to a more svelte physique. If anything, it depressed the shit out of me. Carbs are our friend? Yeah. They're sitting like two pretty after burners on my side exhaust ports. That rest uncomfortably over my jeans.

-I fucking hurt. All the time. As soon as the mileage started adding up during training I was discovering new levels of discomfort. I was happy enough that it wasn't the knee's, ankles, or hips but when my back jacked I was pissed. I noticed the pretty fluidity that martial arts training and stretching gave way to a more practical tension, even one you kind of start to enjoy. (Insert goofy "coiled spring" analogy) In fact, I proved my own point when I douche-ily played softball a few weeks back.

We'd just finished our outdoor PR (3 of the Lake Chains) and I was doing a quick survey and thought "no shit. A month ago I wouldn't have been able to walk to the car. Yeah, I'm sore. Yeah, we stopped a few times to stretch. But we made it, and in a pretty GD decent time. Moreover I don't feel like I'm gonna fall over. We win."

Then my stupid ass plays softball/kickball and strains...maybe pulls both of my hamstrings. The next day I could barely stand at work and realized that (A) I'm old and (B) The static to motion running/sprinting was different than the timed pacing I'd adopted. That Monday, I was chagrined at my condition...and as the lowest of lows I was chagrined that I was gonna have to consider not running. After 2 days of rest, I tried for a light lope around the nabe and I didn't get more than two blocks when pain shot so far through my hip I almost had to sit down on someones retaining wall. I made it a mile and a half, took two ibuprofen, and flipped off my body.

And then...I won't lie, after two days of walking around like I had a load in my pants I ended up saying "eff it" (again) and trying to walk normally. During our taper week, I managed to go 6+ miles (after two stretches and a walk up the high hill) on what will be part of our course tomorrow. And felt fine afterwards. And so I've lifted, tapered (ending in a little under 5 miles the other day) and last night met run buddies at Buca to carb up.

Because...well eff it. I will finish the race.

I'm weird. I know. I don't need a memo. But for all my griping, I want to finish. I will finish. Even if it's crawling on my elbows and knees. And for the first time in the last 3 months of training I've had nothing in my brain but "I'm going to do this and I will not stop until I've crossed the finish line". Mind, it's only been within the last 24 hours I've thought this. But I'm lazy. My winning internal montage music doesn't start until the last minute anyway. Conservation of energy and all.

In closing...for those readers still involved in my musings, my last minute strategies:

I've lifted weights super heavy this week. Super heavy. Even for me. Upper body only. (The lower body had some foam rolling and rehab work on my flexors, quads, and hammies...but tapered by Wednesday) Why? Well if my upper body is sore...I won't give a shit about sore legs. Ha HA! (Awaits naysayers complaints)

I trimmed my mane. Nothing makes you more aerodynamic than a new haircut. Grooming is a MUST for any serious runner. And I mean that in all aspects. You know what I'm sayin?

Everything is layed out. Including the epsom salts my mom gave me last week at the cabin for post-run soakings.

Carbed up 2 days in advanced. Ideally, this will make for a proper glucose and a longer lasting "burn".

My magically enhanced bandana is being washed.

I'm running this one for dad again. The way I see it, life is fuck-all short. And this is an experience I want to have. Like trying squid or hang gliding. Never done it/tried it? Well why the hell not?

Lastly..and this is doofy, but at the gym today some kid was wearing a t-shirt that had a mantra I plan on stealing and keeping:

Losers Complain
Winners Train

Well hell's yes.

I'll see you at the finish line, friends. Do me a favor and if you're up (or not puking) at 7am cop a squat on the race route and cheer on the runners. The one thing I'd never thought of in a million years is how awesome (and it is SERIOUSLY AWESOME) it is to have random people screaming "good job". So big brother? Sorry about not attending more cross-country meets.


(Idiot Edit...I post so infrequently that I can't always remember when I sound like a broken record. If anyone wants to catch up on my "April Jittery Run Rant" it's right here. Dumb ass me...http://happychristmasbaby.blogspot.com/2010/04/and-i-was-running.html)