I just frassed through the last few January's since I started this dumb blog and most of my previous New Year scribblings have been personal reviews. B#tching about being drunk or my weight or blah blah blah...For that, I'm sorry. Really, truly. And as a guy that doesn't make resolutions that much any more, that'll be one of the last times I attempt to be an apologist. As a definition of character as I creep up on my 4th decade, I kind of think I just need to get back to nutting up and shutting up and standing by certain convictions. Prevent myself from seeming wimby wimby on matters. So my desire for 2012, if not resolve, is to spend some time digging deep into my character to see if there are areas of growth that I can learn from and hopefully make me calmer hanging out in my own skin. (I do that a lot. And by "skin" I mean "head". And we all know that my head space is a very, very messy place to kick it.
2011, for what it's worth...felt like a really strange fever dream. Like how your eyes feel after having been in a pool for hours. Or the feeling you think treading water in an ocean must be like after the Indianapolis has sunk and right before the PBY picks you out of the water- It sucks, but at least you didn't get eaten by a shark. Nothing really, really bad happened this year to frass about on a personal level. I can tell you all as subjectively and honestly as I can that 2011 just really wasn't my favorite year. Or rather, it wasn't until the last few months or so that I really started to feel something of a shift in the world that was palpable and controllable. And that gave me a smidgen of comfort.
I'm starting off 2012 by listing a few of my favorite things from 2011 in addition to some things that warranted our either our disdain/disgust/wrath or our accolades and attention. For those that know me...some of these topics will wind up being about as political as I ever tend to get- and even my politicking will be as bland and generic as ketchup. As always, if I didn't see your gig it doesn't mean it wasn't the best...I just don't see a f#ck ton of theater. I'm trying to change that a bit...BUT NO APOLOGIES!!!! NONE!
Ahem:
Personal Best's: I managed to run 3 half-mary's, two 10K's, (And PR every time). I moved to a vegetarian dominated diet. I didn't over-over spend for the year. I lost weight, avoided hard alcohol, picked up a really enjoyable (knock on wood) new job, performed in 3 shows (and met some great new people. AND did a musical...AND a well-attended Fringe Show.), saw my first Twins game in the new stadium, went camping at the same Kampground, kept up the garden and transformed the back forty into the start of something pretty, threw a quiet raging party, began a noble slumber on my tempurpedic bed, went to Vegas for work, grew an EPIC beard, started hitting karate regularly, had a great birthday, went to some amazing new restaurants, and did some home projects that went outside of my comfort zone. Oh, and I finally got myself a new phone. I stiiiiill love technology...
Ehhhhh...that sucks: I worked some s#itty...s#itty temp jobs that started to drag me down to a level of lip-biting anxiety that nearly bested me. I got mega-sized sick for the first time in 15 years and lost my voice- awesome when you're in a musical. Had some car kerfluffles/break-downs and needed new tires. I lost my driver's liscense in Vegas. I busted my central a/c playing with a roto-tiller forcing me to undergo a few unwanted expenses...and finished up late Fall/early Winter with some really soul-dislodging news.
People/Things in 2011 that warranted a big thumbs up:
The "Occupy" protestors. Lean whatever way you want to politically. Bitch about how they only had a few hardships to endure and it's nowhere NEAR how awful it is in other parts of the world...but: We, as a nation, can still make a lot of noise when we want to. And it was here, Minny. And it'll take a select few hermits who won't know the difference between the 1%/99%. That much was made clear. And good on those who did it.
My friends and family. I get that this is a blanket statement, but hear me out- My mom...who went outside of her own comfort zone to volunteer and keep volunteering at the theater. To taking charge of and actively working to pimp out her antiquities like a 21st century Marcus Brodey. My brother and his family- raising two of the most adorable and wickedly funny children. For surviving a corporate downsizing and move. And for continuing to be an example of responsibility, respect, and loyalty to the rest of us.
My extended family...we managed to get through '11 without any death's, thank the Gods. My uncle managed to survive his heart surgery. My aunt/uncle on the West Coast found newer (better) employment in sunny San Diego. My cousins remained focused and entreprenuerial.
My friends who had the babies. There were sooooo many babies. Like, 500 babies. And they'll probably all be good at sports. And great parents all...
My friends who found new, exciting, and challenging work.
My friends who (A) ran with me. There support and energy kept me moving forward. Who (B) ran either their first marathon (an amazing event, btw) or their first half- it was a year for friends to push themselves into something new. And lastly who (C) started to take up running/fitness routines to frame their own personal fitness goals: Whether it was for rehabilitative purposes, health, weight-loss...There were so many people on F'Book who started an affair with the treadmill and it just made my heart happy every time I would read their status.
My friends who moved/bought houses/bigger boats...
My friend AL who got himself a hairy stepson in the form of Deuce.
My roommate. After we talked about how he's staying for the immediate future, he has consistently proven to be a solid and stand-up man. You should meet him. Or at the very least, introduce him to any single lady-friends.
My neighborhood. I've hermited a lot in 2011, so it's nice NE Mipples has a metric f#ck ton of options regarding restaurants and things to do. Heidi's was my favorite surprise of 2011, but I'm still in love with my neighborhood after 7 years. M'wah.
As an actron/power nerd I'd be so very, very remiss if I didn't say Craiggles and Anna getting their Ivey dues, the fantastic productions of "August: Osage County" at Park Square and "Street Scene" w/Girl Friday...man. I saw some beautiful intimate shows/performances (and some amazingly fun/smiley confections ala' "Mercy Watson" and "Hairspray") but the ensemble work moved these productions into a higher pantheon of shows I'll be digesting and talking about for a while. Shows and performances that make me want to be a better actor myself. Yeah.
The casts of "Joseph", "12 Angry", and "Knit et.al"...well I think I lucked out. I really really did. And had a great time during every show.
And for my final note: Thank you, movie studios. Thank you for putting out the kind of nerdy, fantastic fare that we've been waiting for and heaping it on. I'm talking to you, Marvel. Tell DC that "Batman" isn't their only property and that they should NEVER have cocked up "Green Lantern" like they did. AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!!!
People who should be taken down a notch from 2011: Politicians. Just. Ohhhh...f#ck it. Here's the thing, and this is real and the truth- We elect people to make decisions for us, and preferably in our best interest. And...and they just sit their idly and have to shut down the fucking gov't just to make a decision? I really could give a shit on the details- people lost jobs. Work. Activities meant to stimulate local (seasonal) business were shut down. So here's a thought: Stay open. Work overtime. Because it's what the rest of us schlubs are forced to do. And usually the word "mandatory" comes before it. I'd hate to think we're impeding tee time.
And if, if I hear about how so and so raised $x million dollars on a campaign...I'm liable to slam my head in a door. I need that money too. More than you! I need a bathroom and garage! You want elected? Prove you can do something. Better yet, prove you can do it on a budget...like the rest of us. And fix my tub.
MN Sports teams. You whiney little grundles. Win some f#cking games for a change. Use the Lynx as your shining example if you need to. Ish, ish, ish...
F'Book. Stop changing every five minutes. You're infuriating. And terrible for we ADHD sufferers.
Bacon. Enough. Yuck. Same with Breakfast. "Most important meal of the day" my ass. You're giving a complex to lunch, second breakfast, and dinner.
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
Wednesday, December 07, 2011
My dinner with Deuce're...
Pictured: The grundler keeps the backyard varmint-free. He also piddled in the area where I planted asparagus...which, for some reason, I find ironic and hilarious.Fact the first: In the winter time I bring my gym bag with me to work so that it doesn't freeze in my car. (Anyone dressing at the gym after their gear has spent 8 hours in a subzero car knows how much trying to put on frozen clothing sucks) The logic is that I can go from work to the gym and BOOM done. Workout accomplished.
Fact the second: I suck at this and invariably wind up going home. In the sweeter months it's fine- I usually can just run early in the a.m. or after work on a beautiful day. Or both. I'm easy. But after a long-ass day I tend to drift toward finding excuses to go straight home. (Not to be too self-loathing, the excuses are easier when I have a gig or event to attend. Or karate. Natch. Or...)
I HAVE A DEUCE-EXCUSE! Yes, I found myself barrelling home and bypassing the gymnasium in order to attend his Grundlyness. Fortunately, my roommate has taken on the task of being the daytime sitter- I fielded a remarkable number of texts from him over lunch letting me know that he has time to come home between work and school and take him for a walk. (His alterior motive was admitted in his last text, whereas he said that maybe he'll meet another single female dog-walker out in the world...and I'm fine with that. Go get'em!)
It's pretty amazing how low-key this guy is. AL told me that he's low-maintenance and he wasn't kidding. Treats and snoozin'? Snoozin' and treats...and he's good. No chewing shoes. No piddlin/poopin in the house when left alone. No barkin'. The only concession is that he knows "out" and where "out" is. (At his home at the lofts, "out" time means crossing through the building to the common dog area. At the casa, he's very aware that the back door is the out door. And he'll sit and look frassy at the door, tail a-wagging...and he just came in 2 minutes previously)
Still, he loves the backyard. Plenty of smells, plenty of sticks, and plenty of squirrels. If I wasn't such a chicken shit (of other dogs, not him) I'd meander down to the St. Anthony dog park. Except...see the aforementioned laziness. AND the fact that it was MOVIE NIGHT!
And today's episode ends on the couch with Smashburger black bean burger (soooo good), shared sweet potato fries (wow. wow wow wow.) and "Conan the Barbarian". (1981. Deuce really loved the score.) Also...we've discovered the bed. Just...just see below.
Black bean burger- not a reconstituted patty, mind- and sweet tater fries. Notice half the cup is missing? That was NOT me. You're welcome, Grundlepuss.
I'm in ur bedz! Sleepin' on the diagonal! (Taken in pitch black. Surprise!)
I will NO be moved...oh, wait...did you say O-U-T? If I must...but I can't...the bed...she is too warm.
Waitaminnit...you said this movie was in 3D? You sleep on a bed of LIES, sir!
Squirrels? Not on my watch...Thursday, October 27, 2011
In which we run "scary" far...
Pictured...part of my Monster Dash ensemBLAH! "Spider-Mike and his AMAZING Friends!" Convenient that I had it sittin' in storage, more importantly when I dug it up I still had the stretchy winter gloves I had originally used back in 1998 or so. (Nice for a chilly morning trot) The puff paint was a spur-of-the-moment piece of artistic improvisation that I immediately regretted when I proceeded to get it all over my hands, forearms, legs, and yes...my face. And it stains.
Also...wrist-shooter wrist bands? Hello? Geek? Or CREATIVE MISUNDERSTOOD GENIUS?!?!
The Monster Dash marks my LAST race of the season in 2011- a season marked with fairly dramatic personal improvement, IMO, as well as a new found sense of camaraderie with my friends and new runners who've decided to brave the pavement in pursuit of logging ridiculous weekly distances. I've approached my last two Half-Mar's without gunning for PR's or other lofty goals and I found myself actually planning out and setting up a training plan for this one
in the interest of (hopefully) finishing it Sub-Two. Which over the last two weeks...I more or less dropped.
Rock N' Roll, Spider Nike Mikey. Not pictured: Where'll the Garmin live?It's not that I don't want to finish sub-two or attempt to use this race as my first attempt to really push the shit out of myself...I just got into my head a liiiiittle too much. I started getting pings and pains here and there. Then the last few weeks of October got themself good and filled from morning to night with work, rehearsal, tours, etc...not to mention I was racing the clock with house projects, the garden, the lawn...MN pre-winter prep...I felt up to my eyeballs in stuff...and by last week or so my lofty race goals just kind of started to... drift a bit.
That said, I performed a mental Etch-A-Sketch shake and reset my brain to "simplify", and made a new game plan which is simply to do my best to run a good race. Go the distance running. To push myself (and hang with the 2:00 hr pace group for as long as possible). To finish strong. And most importantly to have fun with my friends who have been (whether aware or not) a source of pride, support, and joy since we started our outdoor trots together back in April. (Remember the picture FeeJ snapped?)
And seriously? A body suit that can effectively serve as cold-weather technical gear? I pity anyone trying to run in those stupid "Sexy" costumes. (And for people who use face paint make-up. Man. If I tried to be a Zombie Runner? Besides looking like a douchebag? My face would be a gray and red runny mess by mile 3). I think that my being dressed as Die Spinne will be much easier to spot than when I'm wearing super high modesty-proof shorts. Possibly.
I'm not gonna lie- I'm insanely happy to be done with the distance running for 2011. It'll be nice to get back into a routine where I'm runnin' shorties without worrying about tempo/hill/speed work. I'm excited to get back to the karate studio to work on "different" muscles and to start sparring again. To go to the gym to "only" lift weights...yeah. For a while, anyway. Or until I get a bug up my ass to do a full Mary. One day at a time, Michael. Please.
Lastly- I'm starting to write an article that I hope to submit to Runner's World for their blog, or even for their magazine. I can't stress enough that the 12 months have been both a hard and yet wonderfully transformative time for me while I wear this strange distance "running" persona I've adopted. I'd like to think the story I tell (One that isn't relegated to my frassy blog soundbites) is one that might provide runners- new or old- with the kind of support and insight that I've found on my distance trots. It's been a trip.
I leave y'all with my umpteenth plea to come out and support the Monster Dash 2011. The adoration and cheers of the crowds are one of the most appreciated parts of the experience. And I hope to see you out there. Oh, and this guy? This guy stays clean until Halloween. Or maybe brunch after the race. See you on the course...
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Vegas Wrap Up...(pt 5)
Time to end this un-interesting clap trap...
I really, really wanted to stay in and watch movies. My co-worker had other plans.
Again, I was asked what I wanted for dinner (specifically. She was displeased with my response "I don't really care. Go ahead and pick something") We settled on "seafood" and my promise that I'd google some places before freshening up. One jarring phone call later (Seriously? Why do hotels have their phone ringers set to Defcon 5?) we were headed down to do the strip. We parked at NY, NY where the parking gods were again in our favor and didn't get charged. (Really. For some reason I recalled that we were able to park anywhere for free) and we meandered around before settling on the Luxor buffet. (Kind of underwhelming. And by kind of- there was nary a piece of seafood with the exception of some cod in a soupy tomato melange)
Then we walked. We putzed through MGM (NO LIONS?!?! WHERE WERE THEY? SMOKING?) Mandalay, and New York before hitting the street to check out the new City Center compound. On the way, we were accosted by MORE street performers. (More aggravating than the porn-fwappers, IMO. Catwoman? Peter Griffith? Bumblebee from the Transformers? What the shit?) At City Center, we finally got around to gambling a little bit before making our way back home.
Oh. The changes. City Center is vast. While a majority of it is comprised of meeting/conference centers- it does have it's fair share of casinos and funky Gehry inspired hotels. And standing out on the open air skyways and taking it all in, I'm just amazed at how much the place has changed in the nearly 20 years since I first visited Vegas. And I'm guessing it was around here that I lost my driver's license. A little nugget I wouldn't discover until I was emptying my pockets at the hotel.
fuck
The next morning after a phone call to the airport and LVPD I was assured that I'd be fine, and that if I was overseas I'd be really fucked (their words, not mine) and once I was politely admitted to the airport "proper"...it was off to home sweet home. It was at this point that I really wondered if I p#ssed someone off karmically (again) because the family in front of me had a crying pampie and the dude next to me was coughing like he had the plague...and apparently had never heard of covering his mouth. Gross.
I may end up getting sent back in a quarter or two. I think I'll listen to my gut and stay in the hotel room. And for your pleasure...a timeline:
1992- The last great family road trip, we visit Vegas for a night on our way home. Having camped the last 5 nights, dad ponies up and gets us a big room at the Lady Luck. He gives me a pocket ful of dimes and tells me to "look 21". I manage to spend it all, and get one of those stupid post-cards that superimposes your picture over the old downtown strip. On our way out of town, we see the big ass "new" casino being built in the distance called "Excalibur".
2004- Stayed at the Westin behind the Barbary Coast. Find out how much Vegas has changed. Rented a convertable with leather seats which we learn is a terrible idea when it's 90 degrees and sunny. Saw a nudie Cirque show and Celene Dion. I did.
2005- Stayed at the Golden Nugget. Did NOT rent a car which was a terrible idea, and spent nearly $150 on cab fare over 3 days. DID visit Red Rock and fell in love a little more with the desert. Tried the buffet at the Flamingo and my life was changed. DID see "Mama Mia"...and why? Learn that the Lady Luck has been demolished.
2007- Stayed at the Strat w/Moda for my birthday. Saw the vampire titty show, and the best Cirque show in memory- Also had a gallon sized gin + tonic for $9 and we managed to get lost on a chilly hike. We are officially demoted to B-squad hikers.
I really, really wanted to stay in and watch movies. My co-worker had other plans.
Again, I was asked what I wanted for dinner (specifically. She was displeased with my response "I don't really care. Go ahead and pick something") We settled on "seafood" and my promise that I'd google some places before freshening up. One jarring phone call later (Seriously? Why do hotels have their phone ringers set to Defcon 5?) we were headed down to do the strip. We parked at NY, NY where the parking gods were again in our favor and didn't get charged. (Really. For some reason I recalled that we were able to park anywhere for free) and we meandered around before settling on the Luxor buffet. (Kind of underwhelming. And by kind of- there was nary a piece of seafood with the exception of some cod in a soupy tomato melange)
Then we walked. We putzed through MGM (NO LIONS?!?! WHERE WERE THEY? SMOKING?) Mandalay, and New York before hitting the street to check out the new City Center compound. On the way, we were accosted by MORE street performers. (More aggravating than the porn-fwappers, IMO. Catwoman? Peter Griffith? Bumblebee from the Transformers? What the shit?) At City Center, we finally got around to gambling a little bit before making our way back home.
Oh. The changes. City Center is vast. While a majority of it is comprised of meeting/conference centers- it does have it's fair share of casinos and funky Gehry inspired hotels. And standing out on the open air skyways and taking it all in, I'm just amazed at how much the place has changed in the nearly 20 years since I first visited Vegas. And I'm guessing it was around here that I lost my driver's license. A little nugget I wouldn't discover until I was emptying my pockets at the hotel.
fuck
The next morning after a phone call to the airport and LVPD I was assured that I'd be fine, and that if I was overseas I'd be really fucked (their words, not mine) and once I was politely admitted to the airport "proper"...it was off to home sweet home. It was at this point that I really wondered if I p#ssed someone off karmically (again) because the family in front of me had a crying pampie and the dude next to me was coughing like he had the plague...and apparently had never heard of covering his mouth. Gross.
I may end up getting sent back in a quarter or two. I think I'll listen to my gut and stay in the hotel room. And for your pleasure...a timeline:
1992- The last great family road trip, we visit Vegas for a night on our way home. Having camped the last 5 nights, dad ponies up and gets us a big room at the Lady Luck. He gives me a pocket ful of dimes and tells me to "look 21". I manage to spend it all, and get one of those stupid post-cards that superimposes your picture over the old downtown strip. On our way out of town, we see the big ass "new" casino being built in the distance called "Excalibur".
2004- Stayed at the Westin behind the Barbary Coast. Find out how much Vegas has changed. Rented a convertable with leather seats which we learn is a terrible idea when it's 90 degrees and sunny. Saw a nudie Cirque show and Celene Dion. I did.
2005- Stayed at the Golden Nugget. Did NOT rent a car which was a terrible idea, and spent nearly $150 on cab fare over 3 days. DID visit Red Rock and fell in love a little more with the desert. Tried the buffet at the Flamingo and my life was changed. DID see "Mama Mia"...and why? Learn that the Lady Luck has been demolished.
2007- Stayed at the Strat w/Moda for my birthday. Saw the vampire titty show, and the best Cirque show in memory- Also had a gallon sized gin + tonic for $9 and we managed to get lost on a chilly hike. We are officially demoted to B-squad hikers.
Thursday, October 06, 2011
I don't remember those people...(pt 3)
I like to nap. A lot. And after a mildly stressful day, I felt it my civic duty as a resident of the state of MN to diplomatically bring the nap to the Southwest. (And really...it was an attractively large bed.) We had agreed to meet up and make a plan for dinner and after I had tucked myself in and checked my online business- I got busy burying myself in the sheets...
Until the phone rang at a decibel level reserved for 12 year olds on the roller coaster. It was the front desk. Making sure I was checked in and settled in all right. Yes, I said. I was just downstairs procuring my key not 20 minutes ago. Thank you.
And then my cell. My boss wanted to know if we'd settled on anything for dinner. (Again, with the settling.) After a flurry of texts, she bowed out and left it up to my co-worker and I to figure out. I pulled the sheets back up, started to fade again, when the screaming ringer went off on the phone. Again. This time it was the co-worker asking if I'd came up with any ideas for dinner. I said I'd meet her in the lobby in 15 minutes and after checking to see that I hadn't wet the bed due to being startled a second time, we headed out.
I decided that instead of picking something close to the hotel we'd drive toward the strip and see if anything floated our fancy. This parlayed into a trip down the strip and...wow. Every time I go to Vegas, it feels like the strip gets longer. (Mostly this can be attributed to traffic, but as it was a Monday night ,traffic was reasonably light) While snapping camera pics she asked me where "downtown" was. So I said "let's go". And go we did. (Sad note- "The Sahara" is now gone baby gone. No particular memory of that place, just kind of sad seeing a big, dark casino with the unused roller coaster in front.) We passed the glut of bail bonds offices, nasty hotels, and drive-through casinos before hitting downtown proper, circling the block, and finally parking at the 4 Queens.
And WTF...
Downtown is a great place to "come down" after an all day gamble/party binge. I stayed at the Nugget a few years back and while it wasn't the popular part of town, I liked the old-school chill feeling. And while it still retains some of that, it's going through some growing pains experienced by the Vegas Strip "proper". Namely...the characters. And not the tour-ons. I mean how I had to slam on the brakes in the rental to let Jack Sparrow cross "drunkedly". Earlier, my co-worker asked why I don't take a theater gig in Vegas. Reasons aside, I told her that the good Captain there was probably the best role someone like myself could hope to land.
Except it didn't really end with that...weird...anachronistic dude. We had, in addition to the showgirls who posed for pictures:
The Blues Brothers
The Mad Hatter (from the "Alice" remake)
Some guys that looked like the Rat Pack waaaaaay past their prime
Spider-Man...in one of those costumes in a bag from around 1998. (I later bumped into Spidey who had taken off most of his costume, where it was being worn almost like a scarf. I guess he was off-duty)
It just didn't make sense. After dinner, where we eavesdropped on an East Coast family yelling at each other ("If I had my way, I'd feed you to a wood-chipper and am it at the Hudson!") we meandered a bit before realizing that we hit a two-beer wall and needed to go home. (It was "only" 10:00 pm...but we were still rocking CST time) We were released from the parking ramp for free (I didn't know it needed validation, and the guy was offended we didn't do any gambling in the casino) And we slowly ambled our way back to the Marriott via the back roads to avoid the Strip...long and loud bolts of lightening mottling the sky.
Until the phone rang at a decibel level reserved for 12 year olds on the roller coaster. It was the front desk. Making sure I was checked in and settled in all right. Yes, I said. I was just downstairs procuring my key not 20 minutes ago. Thank you.
And then my cell. My boss wanted to know if we'd settled on anything for dinner. (Again, with the settling.) After a flurry of texts, she bowed out and left it up to my co-worker and I to figure out. I pulled the sheets back up, started to fade again, when the screaming ringer went off on the phone. Again. This time it was the co-worker asking if I'd came up with any ideas for dinner. I said I'd meet her in the lobby in 15 minutes and after checking to see that I hadn't wet the bed due to being startled a second time, we headed out.
I decided that instead of picking something close to the hotel we'd drive toward the strip and see if anything floated our fancy. This parlayed into a trip down the strip and...wow. Every time I go to Vegas, it feels like the strip gets longer. (Mostly this can be attributed to traffic, but as it was a Monday night ,traffic was reasonably light) While snapping camera pics she asked me where "downtown" was. So I said "let's go". And go we did. (Sad note- "The Sahara" is now gone baby gone. No particular memory of that place, just kind of sad seeing a big, dark casino with the unused roller coaster in front.) We passed the glut of bail bonds offices, nasty hotels, and drive-through casinos before hitting downtown proper, circling the block, and finally parking at the 4 Queens.
And WTF...
Downtown is a great place to "come down" after an all day gamble/party binge. I stayed at the Nugget a few years back and while it wasn't the popular part of town, I liked the old-school chill feeling. And while it still retains some of that, it's going through some growing pains experienced by the Vegas Strip "proper". Namely...the characters. And not the tour-ons. I mean how I had to slam on the brakes in the rental to let Jack Sparrow cross "drunkedly". Earlier, my co-worker asked why I don't take a theater gig in Vegas. Reasons aside, I told her that the good Captain there was probably the best role someone like myself could hope to land.
Except it didn't really end with that...weird...anachronistic dude. We had, in addition to the showgirls who posed for pictures:
The Blues Brothers
The Mad Hatter (from the "Alice" remake)
Some guys that looked like the Rat Pack waaaaaay past their prime
Spider-Man...in one of those costumes in a bag from around 1998. (I later bumped into Spidey who had taken off most of his costume, where it was being worn almost like a scarf. I guess he was off-duty)
It just didn't make sense. After dinner, where we eavesdropped on an East Coast family yelling at each other ("If I had my way, I'd feed you to a wood-chipper and am it at the Hudson!") we meandered a bit before realizing that we hit a two-beer wall and needed to go home. (It was "only" 10:00 pm...but we were still rocking CST time) We were released from the parking ramp for free (I didn't know it needed validation, and the guy was offended we didn't do any gambling in the casino) And we slowly ambled our way back to the Marriott via the back roads to avoid the Strip...long and loud bolts of lightening mottling the sky.
Friday, September 09, 2011
Autumnal Harvest
I was right...
It has been a s#itty growing season. To be fair, there are probably a lot of factors involved and the fact is that since starting the garden we've had a couple of wimby-wimby harvests. Still, I've been as diligent as I can be and so far it's been a mild disappointment. Not huge. Just the"Awwww. Shoot" kind.
In the interest of focusing on the positive, the cherry heirlooms have been a steady source of produce and support, and the herbs have consistently stayed fruitful. We've had a few heirlooms come out (however there are still about 20 or so on the vine that are still GREEN!) I think the squash is almost ready, but outside of a few gardening websites I researched, I can't be sure if they're good to go. The jalapenos and zukes finally produced, and one (pictured below) made it's way into a nice grilled mess, but the 2nd (and last one I had) I dropped on the ground on my way out to the car and BOOM it exploded. (Not, like, "broken and bruised"...it flat out exploded) On another positive note, the flowers in the front planter have remained bright and thick. I may stick with them again next year after the initial tulip burst dies out.
I'm hoping to have some more pictures and produce as the season changes, but I'm thinking that I'm going to write off 2011 as a "bad growing season". Moda picked up some special grass to plant once the garden is torn up, and with the roommate diligently turning the composter I think we'll have a nice fertile area to play with in 2012. Fingers crossed that we don't get gobsmacked with snow so we can get the leaf covering down. Bon Appetit...
Inexplicable. I've barely watered these and they were nigh on overrun with weeds until I took care of business. And they done blown up!
I'll let you pretend that that doesn't look delicious. With goat cheese, a little balsamic vinegar and basil? Yum.
Broccoli, heirlooms/cherry heirlooms, and the zuke.
JALAPENOS!!! I gave one to my co-worker, and so she can make "an" popper. (I'm betting these guys'll be hot. The banana peppers have face-melting properties...)
It has been a s#itty growing season. To be fair, there are probably a lot of factors involved and the fact is that since starting the garden we've had a couple of wimby-wimby harvests. Still, I've been as diligent as I can be and so far it's been a mild disappointment. Not huge. Just the"Awwww. Shoot" kind.
In the interest of focusing on the positive, the cherry heirlooms have been a steady source of produce and support, and the herbs have consistently stayed fruitful. We've had a few heirlooms come out (however there are still about 20 or so on the vine that are still GREEN!) I think the squash is almost ready, but outside of a few gardening websites I researched, I can't be sure if they're good to go. The jalapenos and zukes finally produced, and one (pictured below) made it's way into a nice grilled mess, but the 2nd (and last one I had) I dropped on the ground on my way out to the car and BOOM it exploded. (Not, like, "broken and bruised"...it flat out exploded) On another positive note, the flowers in the front planter have remained bright and thick. I may stick with them again next year after the initial tulip burst dies out.
I'm hoping to have some more pictures and produce as the season changes, but I'm thinking that I'm going to write off 2011 as a "bad growing season". Moda picked up some special grass to plant once the garden is torn up, and with the roommate diligently turning the composter I think we'll have a nice fertile area to play with in 2012. Fingers crossed that we don't get gobsmacked with snow so we can get the leaf covering down. Bon Appetit...
Inexplicable. I've barely watered these and they were nigh on overrun with weeds until I took care of business. And they done blown up!
I'll let you pretend that that doesn't look delicious. With goat cheese, a little balsamic vinegar and basil? Yum.
Broccoli, heirlooms/cherry heirlooms, and the zuke.
JALAPENOS!!! I gave one to my co-worker, and so she can make "an" popper. (I'm betting these guys'll be hot. The banana peppers have face-melting properties...)
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
Two Fairs, back to back= Insanity
What...what the natural heck was I thinking? I'm really not into masochistic acts perpetrated on my self, so in what parallel world did the "Evil" Mikey think hitting two crowded ass MN past times over Labor Day weekend was a good idea? I just hope that twin has a Van Dyke mustache, leers a lot, and is thinner. Probably huffs spray paint.
Annnnyway. This is what happens when you wait until the closing end of the State Fair, I guess. Well, that and the fact that my #1 companion Momo doesn't like to Gogo to the Fair and has been eyes deep in Tech/Rehearsal. #2 companion (Mom) wasn't too interested. And a few of my other buddies w/o day jobs had already gone during the weekdays leaving me, and my ridiculous need to get my annual mega-crowd fix on. (And really, I start to really yearn for the deep-fried turkey sammich by June...and since the dumb thing is now at the Twins Stadium I can get that craving out of the way any old time. What I'm saying is, my reasons for actually fighting the unwashed masses diminished significantly...And also...finding out you can get most Fair Food pretty much year round. Which I knew. But still...)
I put the call out on FB for a Fair Date, and had a few nibbles but was prepared to retire the notion of tandem/group Fair visits and see how I'd do flying solo. And when mentioning it the night before, my roommate started grilling me as to the "what time I was leaving" etc. before asking if it was okay if he tagged along. And I said "Okay".
And for folks who know the Bean, and his peccadilloes regarding crowds of more than 4-5 people? Please know that this is pretty amazing.
Pictured. Apparently the 3rd most crowded/highest attended Fair day. Also, see those deep fried pickles? Longest damn line, ever.
Of course I did the smart thing and rousted my ass up for a nice 7 mile trot before we left to get the metabolism moving in preparation, and then Bean and I found the closest park and ride to our house & began our adventure. Sufficed to say...we had a really nice time. He was a capable companion, nimbly navigating the crowds and "keeping up" with Mikey Longshanks. He didn't judge me for wanting a 10am beer with my Pronto Pup. We picked opportune times to find shady areas to rest/get away from the crowds. We shared all sharable dishes. Took pictures when asked. Let me make juvenile dick jokes when we visited the poultry barn. And was trying to be helpful in finding the Surly Booth, even though we couldn't find it. All told, we managed to stay for nearly 4-5 hours before hitting a wall and skiddadling.
Unfortunately, my camera died before I could document a lions share of the insanity that was milling about Falcon Heights that day (Or the dishes we enjoyed.) So I hope the list and these few will give you a taste...a taste of that dirty, dirty Fair. See you next year.
We et/drunk:
Pronto Pup, Elk Burger, Deep Fried Turkey Sammich, New Zealand King Potatoes, Deep Fried Crab Fritters (New, and a winner), 2 Nordeasters, and a Summit. Urp.
Not often you find an adult with the Fraggle Hair. Pictured with 10am beer. And easily-identifiable bandana of strength.
Bean found a quiet corner to recharge in Heritage Square. Mom told me it looks like he's having a time out. Which to be fair, he kinda is.
Camera p#ssed out before I could get a ton of the obnoxious novelty t-shirts. And what better statement at an event that revels in Bacchanalian amounts of excess...
Hipster T-Shirts never say die...
The metabolism revver wound up being our hauling our buns up and early for a festive jaunt to the Victory 10K to support D-Gangs and FeeJ, before cleaning up and heading to Shack-of-Pee...and eagerly anticipated 16th Century Shenanigans. While the Belly-Dancing weekend isn't my tip-top fave (and my partiality to the cooler late-Autumn weather) we managed to get a beautiful sunny day...and Mo full of mischief. ("If they're going to heckle me? I'll see their heckle and raise!") Said mischief wasn't too bad, and was usually relegated to finding people who made good photo-ops, and my standing next to them as she pretended to take my picture while covertly snapping them.
I have now entered the pantheon of d-bags who make stupid jokes regarding their biceps around signs that say "Blah de blah bans guns on the premises." I make no apologies. We were having fun.
Meal #1- Veggie Samosas (a little dry and lacking veggies), Curry chicken (delightful), Schell's Oktoberfest and a Guiness. What did you think we were having for breakfast?
Honestly...I don't know why this was an important picture. I just thought Mo asking me to pose by it and "look serious" to be hilarious.
Oh...what? Look similar to the one I snapped at the State Fair? And they are evvvverywhere at Fest.
Pictured: Microencephalitic finally finds a hat that makes my head look normal, albeit mildly double-chinned. And it sorted me into "Sandwichdor" or "Gryffinbeer" or some stuff.
Here's the thing...coming in costume is encouraged. KT told me that when she was working out there people wouldn't just try and keep it within the time period...but that people would show up dressed as Darth Vader...a Storm Trooper. (My roommate told me that, long ago, he went in drag as a Geisha. Don't ask, because I didn't) And hey, more power to them. This guy? We called him "Sir Menards from Pressed Tinsville"...based solely on the location of where he acquired his materials. I know, right? It's 85 degrees, btw...and I was swassing like mad.
Aren't we fun? We hug. We love. We huzzah. And we-meaning the royal "me"- still stands by my (appropriated) opinion that Mead tastes like a drunken-diabetics p#ss...no matter if it's iced or not.
Annnnyway. This is what happens when you wait until the closing end of the State Fair, I guess. Well, that and the fact that my #1 companion Momo doesn't like to Gogo to the Fair and has been eyes deep in Tech/Rehearsal. #2 companion (Mom) wasn't too interested. And a few of my other buddies w/o day jobs had already gone during the weekdays leaving me, and my ridiculous need to get my annual mega-crowd fix on. (And really, I start to really yearn for the deep-fried turkey sammich by June...and since the dumb thing is now at the Twins Stadium I can get that craving out of the way any old time. What I'm saying is, my reasons for actually fighting the unwashed masses diminished significantly...And also...finding out you can get most Fair Food pretty much year round. Which I knew. But still...)
I put the call out on FB for a Fair Date, and had a few nibbles but was prepared to retire the notion of tandem/group Fair visits and see how I'd do flying solo. And when mentioning it the night before, my roommate started grilling me as to the "what time I was leaving" etc. before asking if it was okay if he tagged along. And I said "Okay".
And for folks who know the Bean, and his peccadilloes regarding crowds of more than 4-5 people? Please know that this is pretty amazing.
Pictured. Apparently the 3rd most crowded/highest attended Fair day. Also, see those deep fried pickles? Longest damn line, ever.Of course I did the smart thing and rousted my ass up for a nice 7 mile trot before we left to get the metabolism moving in preparation, and then Bean and I found the closest park and ride to our house & began our adventure. Sufficed to say...we had a really nice time. He was a capable companion, nimbly navigating the crowds and "keeping up" with Mikey Longshanks. He didn't judge me for wanting a 10am beer with my Pronto Pup. We picked opportune times to find shady areas to rest/get away from the crowds. We shared all sharable dishes. Took pictures when asked. Let me make juvenile dick jokes when we visited the poultry barn. And was trying to be helpful in finding the Surly Booth, even though we couldn't find it. All told, we managed to stay for nearly 4-5 hours before hitting a wall and skiddadling.
Unfortunately, my camera died before I could document a lions share of the insanity that was milling about Falcon Heights that day (Or the dishes we enjoyed.) So I hope the list and these few will give you a taste...a taste of that dirty, dirty Fair. See you next year.
We et/drunk:
Pronto Pup, Elk Burger, Deep Fried Turkey Sammich, New Zealand King Potatoes, Deep Fried Crab Fritters (New, and a winner), 2 Nordeasters, and a Summit. Urp.
Not often you find an adult with the Fraggle Hair. Pictured with 10am beer. And easily-identifiable bandana of strength.
Bean found a quiet corner to recharge in Heritage Square. Mom told me it looks like he's having a time out. Which to be fair, he kinda is. 
Camera p#ssed out before I could get a ton of the obnoxious novelty t-shirts. And what better statement at an event that revels in Bacchanalian amounts of excess...The MN Renaissance Festival... (Monday, September 5th)
Hoping to capitalize on her brief days off during tech, I was able to corral Companion #1 for a Labor Day Renaissance Festival Jaunt. (FYI- Sign up for Groupon/Star Tribune Steals...etc. We snagged a sweet discount on two-fer tickets. Very cost effective)
Hoping to capitalize on her brief days off during tech, I was able to corral Companion #1 for a Labor Day Renaissance Festival Jaunt. (FYI- Sign up for Groupon/Star Tribune Steals...etc. We snagged a sweet discount on two-fer tickets. Very cost effective)
Hipster T-Shirts never say die...
The metabolism revver wound up being our hauling our buns up and early for a festive jaunt to the Victory 10K to support D-Gangs and FeeJ, before cleaning up and heading to Shack-of-Pee...and eagerly anticipated 16th Century Shenanigans. While the Belly-Dancing weekend isn't my tip-top fave (and my partiality to the cooler late-Autumn weather) we managed to get a beautiful sunny day...and Mo full of mischief. ("If they're going to heckle me? I'll see their heckle and raise!") Said mischief wasn't too bad, and was usually relegated to finding people who made good photo-ops, and my standing next to them as she pretended to take my picture while covertly snapping them.
We were joined by Davey and KT, and had another really wonderful day. (And we stayed 3 x's the amount of time we were out there last year!) We ended up running into a gaggle of friends who decided that Monday was also their day of Renning- And later on left tired, with sore and dirty feet... full, and happy that we all took turns petting a python. (No Jon Voight's were harmed during the day, I hear)
The end of day nibble tally: Chindian food (Curry chicken and Veggie Samosas), shared Turkey leg, Chicken Wild Rice Soup in a bread bowl, Apple pie ala mode, Sweet Potato Fries, Egyptian/Raspberry Mead...and many, many beers. (Not Root Beer. "What?!? Are you on your PERIOD!?!?" That's my girl.) Anyway, if you need me I'll be in the corner popping Prilosec with a Pepto chaser...
I have now entered the pantheon of d-bags who make stupid jokes regarding their biceps around signs that say "Blah de blah bans guns on the premises." I make no apologies. We were having fun.
Meal #1- Veggie Samosas (a little dry and lacking veggies), Curry chicken (delightful), Schell's Oktoberfest and a Guiness. What did you think we were having for breakfast?
Honestly...I don't know why this was an important picture. I just thought Mo asking me to pose by it and "look serious" to be hilarious.
Oh...what? Look similar to the one I snapped at the State Fair? And they are evvvverywhere at Fest.
Pictured: Microencephalitic finally finds a hat that makes my head look normal, albeit mildly double-chinned. And it sorted me into "Sandwichdor" or "Gryffinbeer" or some stuff.
Here's the thing...coming in costume is encouraged. KT told me that when she was working out there people wouldn't just try and keep it within the time period...but that people would show up dressed as Darth Vader...a Storm Trooper. (My roommate told me that, long ago, he went in drag as a Geisha. Don't ask, because I didn't) And hey, more power to them. This guy? We called him "Sir Menards from Pressed Tinsville"...based solely on the location of where he acquired his materials. I know, right? It's 85 degrees, btw...and I was swassing like mad.
Aren't we fun? We hug. We love. We huzzah. And we-meaning the royal "me"- still stands by my (appropriated) opinion that Mead tastes like a drunken-diabetics p#ss...no matter if it's iced or not.
Thursday, June 02, 2011
Mama called them my MAGIC shoes...(Race day)
Pictured: "Team Awesome"- Moda, Cap'n Dawn, Matthus, and some dude wearing a chopped up Spider-Man T-shirt in the interest of standing out and looking cool. Also note the MP3 player, slowly on it's way to working loose and being held for the remainder of the run. (ps- This was about mile 2 or so. So we're still pretty fresh and smiley) From the Mpls Half-Marathon 2010.
Well coming up on another half-Mary this Sunday and I've been getting more and more excited. Moda, Feej, and I will be carbing up on Friday. Packet Pick-Up will be on Saturday. And I'll be up and biking to the starting line bright and stupidly early on Sunday. Hooray!
My propensity for waxing nostalgic notwithstanding, I gotta say that it feels (this time around anyway) pretty chill going in. What I mean is, last year around this time I was a little nervous and not what you'd call the "Acme of Anticipation". Kind of the opposite, actually. And what happened? It wasn't what you'd call "calamitous"...(Oh...was it another bullet list you wanted?) Well, to recap before the race...
-I had only been "Training" training for a little over 2 months, with my longest run up until that point having been an 8-9 mile trail trot that I half-walked.
-The longest race I'd completed was the GIG 10K.
-Papa wanted himself a GOOD night sleep, so on top of the pre-race carbing and beers he made sure to put back a few V and T's.
-Papa ate himself a nice big breakfast and over a gallon of water. Then shotgunned another beer for some extra carbs.
-And we biked in the chilly morning over to the Depot SUPER early. Papa stretched and bitched and frassed and finally made two potty stops before the race began.
As for the race itself? Well the 1st four miles or so were okay. A+D were there to cheer. At mile 3 I was all flexing my arms for the friends I saw and just trying to keep pace with my group. By mile 5 Moda had powered on. By mile 6 I thought "This is nearly a 10K distance. I feel like I'm going soooo far". Also, this is where some of the half-marathoners were already powering back) By mile 7-8 I had already started (mostly) walking and having trouble taking deep breaths. By mile 12-13 I was hallucinating that non-existent friends were cheering me on and regretting the GU packet I swiped at the last water stop. (My bottle you see in the picture above? Bone dry)
I nearly crawled over the finish line. (I was happy I didn't puke.) I could barely stand and found myself quietly resentful that we had decided to bike there in the first place. The only things that made it worthwhile (besides sitting down) was the applause from some people who saw us at the Bulldog afterwards and recognized that we had just ran the race...and the dumb heavy-ass medal. (BTW- I finished in a little over 2:40, I think) And while they weren't bleeding...it certainly felt like someone had given me a titty twister. Ouch.
So why've I flipped? I don't know. I had an analogy in mind regarding people who jump out of an airplane for the first time and are scared but who then love subsequent jumps. So it's kiiind of like that? There's the prep. We've put up some heavy miles over the last year or so. I've logged quite a few more 12+ milers outside now and have actually ran them versus stopping to puke/walk. I've felt better on hills. We've run parts of the course again during training. I've been rocking the minimalist shoes and Vibrams. I've got some very good friends running it (for the first time. We'll have many high-fives to trade, Feej) And as opposed to last year with the dreaded fatalist mindset of "I just want to finish" I have a few new ones I've adopted for this year:
"I want to run the whole course and not walk"
"I'm not trippin' about my PR, but will be happy to finish sub-2:25 or 2:20" (I have a matinee, you see)
"I want to finish strong"
"I'm running my own race for me"
Pretty straight forward. I'm really digging on the Half-Mary's. I read an article in RW that they've been picking up momentum as the "challenging race of choice" for people who are on the fence about running a marathon or just want to get their toes wet in the running world. And who knows, maybe I'll eventually nut-up and try a full-Mary. (Gods know I'm proud/excited/worried for and about Moda doing Gramma's Mary the following weekend) It's just nice to know I have the option. Nicer still to know that in my head, I'd like to keep doing long-runs on the weekend with buddies around the nabe, around the lakes...just in case there's a half-Mary lurking around this summer we wanna jump into. Ha-HA!
So I'm hoping (fingers-crossed...barring an accident or injury) that the following picture you see below? The one I'll ask to take post-race this year? That'll be me, except standing up and smiling. Not squatting and grimacing in pain.
ps- I lied. There was a 3rd thing that made the run worthwhile and I would be remiss to forget to mention it: The people who come out to cheer. Last year I might've veered off course or knocked someone out of a wheelchair so I didn't have to run anymore if it wasn't for the people cheering us on and holding signs. Race fans improve the morale of the runners (IMO) exorbitantly, and I'd go so far as to say we really depend on that energy when we're digging deep. So if you're downtown this Sunday in the early a.m. Bring a chair, cop a squat, and clap yer hands. You'll have thousands of people grateful that you did.
Well coming up on another half-Mary this Sunday and I've been getting more and more excited. Moda, Feej, and I will be carbing up on Friday. Packet Pick-Up will be on Saturday. And I'll be up and biking to the starting line bright and stupidly early on Sunday. Hooray!
My propensity for waxing nostalgic notwithstanding, I gotta say that it feels (this time around anyway) pretty chill going in. What I mean is, last year around this time I was a little nervous and not what you'd call the "Acme of Anticipation". Kind of the opposite, actually. And what happened? It wasn't what you'd call "calamitous"...(Oh...was it another bullet list you wanted?) Well, to recap before the race...
-I had only been "Training" training for a little over 2 months, with my longest run up until that point having been an 8-9 mile trail trot that I half-walked.
-The longest race I'd completed was the GIG 10K.
-Papa wanted himself a GOOD night sleep, so on top of the pre-race carbing and beers he made sure to put back a few V and T's.
-Papa ate himself a nice big breakfast and over a gallon of water. Then shotgunned another beer for some extra carbs.
-And we biked in the chilly morning over to the Depot SUPER early. Papa stretched and bitched and frassed and finally made two potty stops before the race began.
As for the race itself? Well the 1st four miles or so were okay. A+D were there to cheer. At mile 3 I was all flexing my arms for the friends I saw and just trying to keep pace with my group. By mile 5 Moda had powered on. By mile 6 I thought "This is nearly a 10K distance. I feel like I'm going soooo far". Also, this is where some of the half-marathoners were already powering back) By mile 7-8 I had already started (mostly) walking and having trouble taking deep breaths. By mile 12-13 I was hallucinating that non-existent friends were cheering me on and regretting the GU packet I swiped at the last water stop. (My bottle you see in the picture above? Bone dry)
I nearly crawled over the finish line. (I was happy I didn't puke.) I could barely stand and found myself quietly resentful that we had decided to bike there in the first place. The only things that made it worthwhile (besides sitting down) was the applause from some people who saw us at the Bulldog afterwards and recognized that we had just ran the race...and the dumb heavy-ass medal. (BTW- I finished in a little over 2:40, I think) And while they weren't bleeding...it certainly felt like someone had given me a titty twister. Ouch.
So why've I flipped? I don't know. I had an analogy in mind regarding people who jump out of an airplane for the first time and are scared but who then love subsequent jumps. So it's kiiind of like that? There's the prep. We've put up some heavy miles over the last year or so. I've logged quite a few more 12+ milers outside now and have actually ran them versus stopping to puke/walk. I've felt better on hills. We've run parts of the course again during training. I've been rocking the minimalist shoes and Vibrams. I've got some very good friends running it (for the first time. We'll have many high-fives to trade, Feej) And as opposed to last year with the dreaded fatalist mindset of "I just want to finish" I have a few new ones I've adopted for this year:
"I want to run the whole course and not walk"
"I'm not trippin' about my PR, but will be happy to finish sub-2:25 or 2:20" (I have a matinee, you see)
"I want to finish strong"
"I'm running my own race for me"
Pretty straight forward. I'm really digging on the Half-Mary's. I read an article in RW that they've been picking up momentum as the "challenging race of choice" for people who are on the fence about running a marathon or just want to get their toes wet in the running world. And who knows, maybe I'll eventually nut-up and try a full-Mary. (Gods know I'm proud/excited/worried for and about Moda doing Gramma's Mary the following weekend) It's just nice to know I have the option. Nicer still to know that in my head, I'd like to keep doing long-runs on the weekend with buddies around the nabe, around the lakes...just in case there's a half-Mary lurking around this summer we wanna jump into. Ha-HA!
So I'm hoping (fingers-crossed...barring an accident or injury) that the following picture you see below? The one I'll ask to take post-race this year? That'll be me, except standing up and smiling. Not squatting and grimacing in pain.
ps- I lied. There was a 3rd thing that made the run worthwhile and I would be remiss to forget to mention it: The people who come out to cheer. Last year I might've veered off course or knocked someone out of a wheelchair so I didn't have to run anymore if it wasn't for the people cheering us on and holding signs. Race fans improve the morale of the runners (IMO) exorbitantly, and I'd go so far as to say we really depend on that energy when we're digging deep. So if you're downtown this Sunday in the early a.m. Bring a chair, cop a squat, and clap yer hands. You'll have thousands of people grateful that you did.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Weight, Weight...don't tell me...
Or, "Confessions of a banana-rexic"...Full disclaimer friends- This week, the old blog is going to be almost solely dedicated to running shit. The Mpls. Half-Marathon is coming up in less than a week and it's got me mooooore than excited. Also, this will probably be yet another devisive posts. As always, consult a doctor or dietician before engaging in any drastic changes in your diet or you could DIE! Remember, this worked for me- not you. Annnnnnd speaking of dieticians...)
So on the bulletin board at the gym, they have apparently hired themselves a dietician. She's pretty. Fit. Blonde. Sunkissed (all of this I surmised by her photo.) She has the appropriate pedigree (Master's in Biology, Foodology, Physiology or what have you.) She even included below her biography/introduction page her favorite recipe for "healthy" waffles... and smoothies.
And I. Don't. Trust her.
I mean, is it just me or would you trust Pamela Anderson to tell you what to eat, or Baron Vladimir Harkonnen?
Pictured: A guy that knows his sandwiches. Incidentally, this was found on a website titled "Fat Bad Guys". Thought I'd share.
I'm kidding, of course. I think that dieticians and personal trainers both are integral to adopting a safe and healthy lifestyle impetus. I've just never had much use for either, you know? I mean, frassing to friends and family about how I already know I eat healthy, I substitute whatever for whatever is fat free...I don't know. I guess I figured I already knew how to eat healthy. What I didn't figure is that I was such a damn poser about it.
Look. I don't mean to brag, but I've lost some weight. It's true. The other day before I engaged in a big lawn project I started looking for a pair of my grubby jeans. I ended up grabbing some from the musty pile of discards in the basement...only realizing that they weren't my torn up grubbies from the thrift store but my old "good" Gap jeans.
That I haven't been able to wear since before the cruise in 2008
Pictured- 34 X 30's being held up by a belt. And before you roll your eyes and tell me I'm flexing, you up and use an edger tiller for 4 hours and try mulching up a 4x3 section of new garden and see if you aren't exhaus...and I've been working pretty gawdamn hard at the gym...you know what? Forget it. Just...hey, 34 x 30's btw.
And just today, I weighed myself on the Devil-scale at the gym. As much as I hated it for showing a weight that was closer to 200 lbs 3-4 months ago I'm hoping that it isn't pulling my leg this time by saying that my weight was below 180.
For the first time. In over 3 years.
So here is the part where (if you've actually been following along, per normal) I reveal my huge free fitness secret. You can attribute it to running shitty long-distances over the last 3 months or so. Cutting out hard liquor last Fall. Whatever. I think it's mostly getting to the point in my training where I've figured out how to re-direct my terrible relationship with portion sizes and how certain foods affect me physically on a daily basis... and also from the standpoint of what fuel is most useful in helping me train effectively. And it turns out, I realized that I had a lot of what NASA refers to as "Solid Fuel" to use. In part...
1) The banana-rexic thing is a joke Moda and I came up with after I'd been so busy w/work et.al that I showed up for dinner starving because "All I had to eat today was a banana". (Truth) The reality is that I've figured out that I was (again) eating for the sake of eating at proscribed times, caving in to my snacky mentality, over-eating with the mindset that I was "in training", and binge-eating when my budget or time would allow. (Again, justifying a trip to Holy Land or Great Dragon buffet was a good idea to help eat more protein. Riiiight)
So I just stopped doing that. I started by drinking a lot more water and flavored sugar-free soda water in the morning and would just...put off having my breakfast yogurt and banana until closer to 10 am or so. I felt hungry by the time I needed to eat them, and it was close enough to lunch that it didn't make sense to me to snack or eat anything else before noon.
Annnnnnd I kind of went vegetarian. Kind of. Actually, mostly. (editors note: I'll probably bend your ear on another blog regarding how I've changed on this standpoint on this over the last 15 years or so. It's definitely fuel for another story.) Outside of being a good way to get your nutrients and roughage, I found that eating a whole box (sorry Moda) of Morningstar (insert the following: Mini-corn dogs, Buffalo Nugs, Ribs, Spicy Black Bean Burger) was a good way to get my lunch fix out of the way and not feel hungry until dinner. During tech, I'd have some soup and a large piece of crusty bread before hitting the in-house gym and if I was SO hungry I couldn't take it? I'd grab a Clif bar from S.A. and another liter of water. At night, I'd get home tired so I wasn't eating a big meal before bed. Then I'd repeat the routine during the work week.
On weekends I'd cheat, sure. It felt (sort of) uncomfortable eating a big breakfast and I found that I wasn't able to finish the big meals that I used to polish off in a sitting. And I usually wound up full enough to go the rest of the day doing chores/training/projects until dinner. Eater's remorse usually wasn't a factor because I'd try to go into the meal knowing if I demolished half a pizza, I'd wind up feeling like shit.
The biggest piece of my own advice that (I guess) I'd give away is this- It's important to stay hungry mentally and physically. To work on really, really getting the most enjoyment out of meals by holding off on eating them, and not eating it all of it in a sitting. And the trick, the hard part? Is disciplining yourself enough not to give in and gorge when the meal comes around.
2) That whole "solid fuel" joke and part about going vegetarian? Really wasn't all that jokey. Okay, so it's known in running circles that the idea of "carbing up" isn't all that smart to do the day right BEFORE the race. (Giving your body the time to break it down into usable glucose stores for extended running after having eaten a mere 8 hours before race day? Right. It doesn't make much sense. Two days? Gives you enough time to break it down.)
My pre-long race foods the night before are usually roughage heavy or (my favorite)= Sushi. Get a little Omega 3 in there, some rice, and I'm good to go the next morning without feeling too stuffed or acid reflux-y. And post-race? The idea of grease/beer/etc. is almost as nauseating to me as smelling bad milk. (I just...ugh. I want something simple. My tummy just gets messed UP post-distance runs.)
As for the solid fuel line, it's because of a comment that D-Gangs made a few months ago. The way I see it, I had a lot of fuel (extra adipose) wrapped around my waist. A lot. Male-Muffin Top, whatever. So whenever I was on a regular training run and after having a limited calorie daily diet I'd make it so that I was visualizing using "What I Had in the Tank". (And it's GOOD fuel. The chubs-sorry- are a rich source of energy to push you through.)
I didn't do this stupidly, mind you. I knew the 2 days before long runs I needed to carb up and I didn't place myself in the realm of ridiculous by starving myself. (Useless ideology if you ask me. Food tastes too good, and having no energy to run/lift makes the concept of getting stronger/improving PR's invalid.) But yeah. On my 3-6 miles early jaunts I eschewed having toast or a waffle and bread-y things for a banana and loading up on some water. Easy enough. And my energy has been fine.
And I'm down quite a few l.b.esses.
So that's the big secret. Hollywood stars and models need to work out a shit ton and starve themselves. It's true, and it's true. And if you think to the contrary, you're very very wrong. Starve. Themselves. And I'm vain, but not that vain to wanna look like I've been in a slave camp. But I am admittedly vain enough to use the fuel I had on me to push me through the training and feel good physically and in terms of self-image.
Bottom line- eat less. Do more cardio. It's the same formula that's been around for ages.
So on the bulletin board at the gym, they have apparently hired themselves a dietician. She's pretty. Fit. Blonde. Sunkissed (all of this I surmised by her photo.) She has the appropriate pedigree (Master's in Biology, Foodology, Physiology or what have you.) She even included below her biography/introduction page her favorite recipe for "healthy" waffles... and smoothies.
And I. Don't. Trust her.
I mean, is it just me or would you trust Pamela Anderson to tell you what to eat, or Baron Vladimir Harkonnen?
Pictured: A guy that knows his sandwiches. Incidentally, this was found on a website titled "Fat Bad Guys". Thought I'd share.I'm kidding, of course. I think that dieticians and personal trainers both are integral to adopting a safe and healthy lifestyle impetus. I've just never had much use for either, you know? I mean, frassing to friends and family about how I already know I eat healthy, I substitute whatever for whatever is fat free...I don't know. I guess I figured I already knew how to eat healthy. What I didn't figure is that I was such a damn poser about it.
Look. I don't mean to brag, but I've lost some weight. It's true. The other day before I engaged in a big lawn project I started looking for a pair of my grubby jeans. I ended up grabbing some from the musty pile of discards in the basement...only realizing that they weren't my torn up grubbies from the thrift store but my old "good" Gap jeans.
That I haven't been able to wear since before the cruise in 2008
Pictured- 34 X 30's being held up by a belt. And before you roll your eyes and tell me I'm flexing, you up and use an edger tiller for 4 hours and try mulching up a 4x3 section of new garden and see if you aren't exhaus...and I've been working pretty gawdamn hard at the gym...you know what? Forget it. Just...hey, 34 x 30's btw.
And just today, I weighed myself on the Devil-scale at the gym. As much as I hated it for showing a weight that was closer to 200 lbs 3-4 months ago I'm hoping that it isn't pulling my leg this time by saying that my weight was below 180.
For the first time. In over 3 years.
So here is the part where (if you've actually been following along, per normal) I reveal my huge free fitness secret. You can attribute it to running shitty long-distances over the last 3 months or so. Cutting out hard liquor last Fall. Whatever. I think it's mostly getting to the point in my training where I've figured out how to re-direct my terrible relationship with portion sizes and how certain foods affect me physically on a daily basis... and also from the standpoint of what fuel is most useful in helping me train effectively. And it turns out, I realized that I had a lot of what NASA refers to as "Solid Fuel" to use. In part...
1) The banana-rexic thing is a joke Moda and I came up with after I'd been so busy w/work et.al that I showed up for dinner starving because "All I had to eat today was a banana". (Truth) The reality is that I've figured out that I was (again) eating for the sake of eating at proscribed times, caving in to my snacky mentality, over-eating with the mindset that I was "in training", and binge-eating when my budget or time would allow. (Again, justifying a trip to Holy Land or Great Dragon buffet was a good idea to help eat more protein. Riiiight)
So I just stopped doing that. I started by drinking a lot more water and flavored sugar-free soda water in the morning and would just...put off having my breakfast yogurt and banana until closer to 10 am or so. I felt hungry by the time I needed to eat them, and it was close enough to lunch that it didn't make sense to me to snack or eat anything else before noon.
Annnnnnd I kind of went vegetarian. Kind of. Actually, mostly. (editors note: I'll probably bend your ear on another blog regarding how I've changed on this standpoint on this over the last 15 years or so. It's definitely fuel for another story.) Outside of being a good way to get your nutrients and roughage, I found that eating a whole box (sorry Moda) of Morningstar (insert the following: Mini-corn dogs, Buffalo Nugs, Ribs, Spicy Black Bean Burger) was a good way to get my lunch fix out of the way and not feel hungry until dinner. During tech, I'd have some soup and a large piece of crusty bread before hitting the in-house gym and if I was SO hungry I couldn't take it? I'd grab a Clif bar from S.A. and another liter of water. At night, I'd get home tired so I wasn't eating a big meal before bed. Then I'd repeat the routine during the work week.
On weekends I'd cheat, sure. It felt (sort of) uncomfortable eating a big breakfast and I found that I wasn't able to finish the big meals that I used to polish off in a sitting. And I usually wound up full enough to go the rest of the day doing chores/training/projects until dinner. Eater's remorse usually wasn't a factor because I'd try to go into the meal knowing if I demolished half a pizza, I'd wind up feeling like shit.
The biggest piece of my own advice that (I guess) I'd give away is this- It's important to stay hungry mentally and physically. To work on really, really getting the most enjoyment out of meals by holding off on eating them, and not eating it all of it in a sitting. And the trick, the hard part? Is disciplining yourself enough not to give in and gorge when the meal comes around.
2) That whole "solid fuel" joke and part about going vegetarian? Really wasn't all that jokey. Okay, so it's known in running circles that the idea of "carbing up" isn't all that smart to do the day right BEFORE the race. (Giving your body the time to break it down into usable glucose stores for extended running after having eaten a mere 8 hours before race day? Right. It doesn't make much sense. Two days? Gives you enough time to break it down.)
My pre-long race foods the night before are usually roughage heavy or (my favorite)= Sushi. Get a little Omega 3 in there, some rice, and I'm good to go the next morning without feeling too stuffed or acid reflux-y. And post-race? The idea of grease/beer/etc. is almost as nauseating to me as smelling bad milk. (I just...ugh. I want something simple. My tummy just gets messed UP post-distance runs.)
As for the solid fuel line, it's because of a comment that D-Gangs made a few months ago. The way I see it, I had a lot of fuel (extra adipose) wrapped around my waist. A lot. Male-Muffin Top, whatever. So whenever I was on a regular training run and after having a limited calorie daily diet I'd make it so that I was visualizing using "What I Had in the Tank". (And it's GOOD fuel. The chubs-sorry- are a rich source of energy to push you through.)
I didn't do this stupidly, mind you. I knew the 2 days before long runs I needed to carb up and I didn't place myself in the realm of ridiculous by starving myself. (Useless ideology if you ask me. Food tastes too good, and having no energy to run/lift makes the concept of getting stronger/improving PR's invalid.) But yeah. On my 3-6 miles early jaunts I eschewed having toast or a waffle and bread-y things for a banana and loading up on some water. Easy enough. And my energy has been fine.
And I'm down quite a few l.b.esses.
So that's the big secret. Hollywood stars and models need to work out a shit ton and starve themselves. It's true, and it's true. And if you think to the contrary, you're very very wrong. Starve. Themselves. And I'm vain, but not that vain to wanna look like I've been in a slave camp. But I am admittedly vain enough to use the fuel I had on me to push me through the training and feel good physically and in terms of self-image.
Bottom line- eat less. Do more cardio. It's the same formula that's been around for ages.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Humble Garden Beginnings take 4, er, 1...
The title of today's piece is because I realize that over the last year or so I've been writing repeat blog title's. Not a big deal, but "It's the Day of the Race, Y'all" before the Get in Gear 10K? EXACT same shit I typed last year at the same time. I'm an Uncreative Urkel.
Please note...the following post is very sad:
While it's with some excitement that comes with the Spring planting season, it's also a marked change. Since we humbly started our garden 4 seasons ago (when it was about the size of a door frame)it was done so as a joint venture. Since Moda has finally moved into her new home, she will be embarking on landscaping and gardening tasks of her own tastes and fancies. While we still plan on being "Bi-Coastal" gardeners (if you can count Central Ave and 37th Ave NE as the divider) it does mean a few changes for my routine personally.
I confess that while the property was mine, I was more than happy to sit back and let Moda do the general puttering and maintenence during the planting and harvest season. (To be fair, it wasn't really a case of "I'm gonna sit back and dick around while she's pulling up weeds. I've been the garden expander and mulch/dirt hauler in addition to the expense sharer when it comes to the usual plantings. In addition to the other maintenence and landscaping as well. Hey. Just speaking my piece, fools.)
Anyway, the kerflufflings at her new casa in addition to my roommate being smack in the middle of finals (read: He gets up, plants himself in front of his laptop in the nook, and doesn't excise himself until the late hours) means something new to me, or at least, as new as an experience can be around your home of 6 years: I'm relegated to doing most of this shit all by myself.
I know, I know, "Woe is me" but really it's going to be fodder for a new style of humble beginnings in which you get my gardening skills which tend to lean toward barrelling into things headlong versus the smarter method planned research my S.O. tends to do. It should prove exciting.
Lastly, I've decided to make a few more projects happen. While doing internal repair/design/remodelling typically scares me, landscaping projects are an area where I feel that it only takes a little moxie, muscle, and the werewithal to make your dreams come true. That, and a metric f#ck-ton of cedar mulch.
So in the interest of giving you pictures for those disinclined to read these dumb things: Here is the beginnings of the Great Garden/Landscaping/Bounty extravaganza 2011!
It's like the "Great Muppet Caper", but with foliage!(Stage 1.5: The topmost picture is my front planter. The tulips are all up and happy and ready to die, yet again. Or get eaten by the bun-buns. The marigolds are planted for some consistent color)
Pictured: The author with his gumption in tact and new work gloves. While the cost of the dumb things is about as much as a 6-pack of the black/yellow work gloves my father was fond of, I find the ability to have a better grip and dexterity to be helpful. And, they have some nice padding in addition to mesh backs. So they breathe.
I usually have to replace my Shepard's Crook hanging basket annually and this year I went with the coconut fiber bottom. I'm sad to say it's already manky and will probably need replaced toute suite. Bad investment, that. However, by way of a housewarming/gardenwarming gift I did hook up Moda with her own Shep/Crook and black & white Dafoodils in a hanging basket. Thanks, Farmers market!
My favorite: The lilac boarders. They're a little late due to the cold hanging out so long, but they're purpling up nicely. (And I have a few whitey's as well) I'm anxious for the 5 days or so that they smell will waft through my open windows. (Not pictured, the de-vining I had to do. Scratched myself up good doing that crap)
Right. The little rosemary that could. Planted last season, we brought her in during the winter and surprisingly she hung on in spite of bouts of mankiness. Go figure, the first time I think it's okay to move outside, boom. So it was off to compost heaven, just in time to make room for...
my first Farmer's Market visit! Alone! What? I don't know...it's always been a partner trip for me. I knew that I wanted to get my herbs potted but to hold off on veggies until next week going into June. The assortment was 1st split up (Moda got half) and the rest with the things we use regularly around the kitchen: Basil, Cilantro, Italian Parsley, new Rosemary, etc. ALSO, I bought my first asparagus plant. Had we planted some around the 1st year we made the garden, we'd have been enjoying potty smells for the last two seasons. Now, I won't be able to enjoy it until I'm nearing 40 years of age. My potty should still smell.
And there she is. Dusty and rusty, but ready to go. I'm doing what I've (repeatedly) told myself I wasn't going to do and expand her out about 2-3 more feet. I figure it'll give me another few fighting feet to keep the Creeping Charlie at bay, and It'll give me room to put more things in it. (Right now, we're experiencing the joys of nearly half my garden being taken up by garlic. The scapes, I'm sure, will be delish-come June. However there was the tiny issue of room for the rest of the garden. I'm planning on tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, and maybe-Mayyyyybe some Zukes. I already tossed a handful of green onions in a pot so they don't blow up. We'll see)
More dirt was needed where it settled over the winter. I'd read that adding manure/compost early on will help maintain a rich soil base for the summer. So you're looking at around 300 lbs of shit and dirt. And it's heavy, and spread. (My composter is still digesting, as you can see. Note- I was able to convince my roommate that turning the composter every two weeks is "good exercise." He responded by asking if he could do it more than every two weeks. No lie.)
These next two pictured above and below are the areas in my yard where I plan on doing the majority of my landscaping projects this summer. My yard is divvied up into sort of a "Quad", with the garden being the furthest back, then the small lot behind the garage, then closer to the house with the patio/grill on one side and the boxelder on the other. Soooooo, to reduce the amount of lawn to maintain I'm planning on tearing it up where it gets the most direct sun and subsequently requires the most water and covering it with mulch- Then finishing by planting some native perrenials to pretty it up. That'll leave the front yard and the far back as the only mowable patches. And I need a bocce court.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Making dinner with things I find in the kitchen...
(Cooking blog. Fair warning.)
"Cooking with shit I happen to find in the kitchen".
Catchy, isn't it? I'm like a lot of folks who occasionally turn around in circles in my kitchen, open the fridge or the pantry numerous times with the hope that inspiration will hit me. Hit me in the FACE! What happens is I default to takeout, or Moda and I will toss recipes back and forth before hitting the grocery store to pick something up...and then buying an ingredient or three that I already had. (So there's doubles of things like coriander, mustard seed, vanilla extract etc.)
Moreover, I've "inherited" a bunch of food from my folks from back when they had themselves a Costco membership- Which means I have a lot (and I mean a lot) of canned and jarred stuff in the pantry and fruit cellar. And yet again, I wind up with doubles packages of everything when I don't bother checking what's in the larder before running to Cub for the "main" ingredients. So laying around I have cans coconut milk, chili beans, rice, and a disgusting amount of pasta.
That said, making pasta at my place becomes a struggle in creativity.Ievolved from making Ramen as a default dish to boiling water/using a whole box of rotini/dumping the jar of red sauce on top/eating it all. And within the last 7 or 8 years I've made valiant efforts in terms of edging away from a jar (and discovering the joys of jarred pesto)...which means I've been involved in some pretty atrocious experiments. (The genesis of this was when I was 16 and tried to cook for a date, boiling pre-cooked fettucine to death and pouring cold alfredo sauce on top. I did the same thing years later for yet another date who was a vegetarian and I made spaghetti with a melange of random vegetables. It was inedible. The trash can got sick.)
So clearly I'm not a fantastic cooking improviser. But I'm a helluva copy cat. And with that, I randomly present you with one of my favorite scenes in the movie "The Godfather"- Remember the one where Fat Clemenza shows Michael Coreleone how to make dinner for "A buncha guys?". He's making red sauce, right? (And film nuts, I know. Okay? I know how Coppola loves to incorporate food into his movies. Enough) So when we started gardening, I actually got the gumption to make my own red sauce at home with inspiration from that film by using the tomatoes and herbs from the garden and fully believing it'd turn out like shit. What I discovered? It was:
A) Fulfilling to make red sauce that you grew yourself
B) Easier than I thought
C) Tastier than Ragu
D) Not as messy as I thought. (I won't lie. I hate the mess. And making your own pasta can get messy as you'll see below)
E) Easy enough that even a flibbertigibbet clutz like me can do it.
So if you have a bunch of cans of tomatoes- diced/peeled whatever (Notice in the photo below that there are two different brands of tomato. See what I meant when I said I get doubles?) or when you're on a budget (read: "Po'") you can still play chef by making your own red sauce at home. (You can do it with fresh tomatoes, just make sure to de-seed them first before chopping them up)
I'll show you what I did and reference the food and utensils needed along the way:
Babysit that pan until the onion gets a little clear (Don't burn the garlic) and sprinkle your herbs and brown sugar over the mess. Dump the cans of tomato in there with a splash of red wine. Lay the basil on top so it makes a for a good photo. Reduce the heat and let it simmer.
Once it starts bubbling a little, take it off the burner and shut off your stove. You'll need to be careful when transferring it to the food processor. (Clearly you can see that mine is a fancy wall-mounted model) So use a deep spoon and steady hands. On LOW, pulse the processor until the ingredients resemble the consistency of the shit you can find at the store in a jar.
Why low? Because as you can see from the photo above? You might wind up with more sauce than you (or your processor) can handle and it turns into a marinara sprinkler (tm). Put the superfluous sauce in tupperware.
Set yerself up for a fancy feast! Serve over pasta (I used farfalle) cooked to instruction. Serve w/fresh shaved parmesan or whatever comes in the green cardboard tube. Maybe with a side of garlic bread.
IMPORTANT TIP- Boil the water, cook for the allotted time, then shut off the stove and let it sit for another 3-5 minutes in the hot water. (Otherwise most boxed pasta winds up too al dente if you cook it exACTLY to the minute it says on the box.)
TIP 2- Feel free to "healthen" up the meal by substituting Barilla Protein Pasta or whole wheat noodles. Or, you know...just eat less.
"Cooking with shit I happen to find in the kitchen".
Catchy, isn't it? I'm like a lot of folks who occasionally turn around in circles in my kitchen, open the fridge or the pantry numerous times with the hope that inspiration will hit me. Hit me in the FACE! What happens is I default to takeout, or Moda and I will toss recipes back and forth before hitting the grocery store to pick something up...and then buying an ingredient or three that I already had. (So there's doubles of things like coriander, mustard seed, vanilla extract etc.)
Moreover, I've "inherited" a bunch of food from my folks from back when they had themselves a Costco membership- Which means I have a lot (and I mean a lot) of canned and jarred stuff in the pantry and fruit cellar. And yet again, I wind up with doubles packages of everything when I don't bother checking what's in the larder before running to Cub for the "main" ingredients. So laying around I have cans coconut milk, chili beans, rice, and a disgusting amount of pasta.
That said, making pasta at my place becomes a struggle in creativity.Ievolved from making Ramen as a default dish to boiling water/using a whole box of rotini/dumping the jar of red sauce on top/eating it all. And within the last 7 or 8 years I've made valiant efforts in terms of edging away from a jar (and discovering the joys of jarred pesto)...which means I've been involved in some pretty atrocious experiments. (The genesis of this was when I was 16 and tried to cook for a date, boiling pre-cooked fettucine to death and pouring cold alfredo sauce on top. I did the same thing years later for yet another date who was a vegetarian and I made spaghetti with a melange of random vegetables. It was inedible. The trash can got sick.)
So clearly I'm not a fantastic cooking improviser. But I'm a helluva copy cat. And with that, I randomly present you with one of my favorite scenes in the movie "The Godfather"- Remember the one where Fat Clemenza shows Michael Coreleone how to make dinner for "A buncha guys?". He's making red sauce, right? (And film nuts, I know. Okay? I know how Coppola loves to incorporate food into his movies. Enough) So when we started gardening, I actually got the gumption to make my own red sauce at home with inspiration from that film by using the tomatoes and herbs from the garden and fully believing it'd turn out like shit. What I discovered? It was:
A) Fulfilling to make red sauce that you grew yourself
B) Easier than I thought
C) Tastier than Ragu
D) Not as messy as I thought. (I won't lie. I hate the mess. And making your own pasta can get messy as you'll see below)
E) Easy enough that even a flibbertigibbet clutz like me can do it.
So if you have a bunch of cans of tomatoes- diced/peeled whatever (Notice in the photo below that there are two different brands of tomato. See what I meant when I said I get doubles?) or when you're on a budget (read: "Po'") you can still play chef by making your own red sauce at home. (You can do it with fresh tomatoes, just make sure to de-seed them first before chopping them up)
I'll show you what I did and reference the food and utensils needed along the way:
What you'll need:
One 24 oz. can of diced tomatoes. (Or 2 small cans of peeled. Whatever)
One bunch of basil
2-3 cloves of garlic, coarsely chopped (The chopped and jarred kind? Fine. It'll just taste weird)
1 large onion or 2-3 small ones. (I had a bag from "Fare For All". I can frass about those guys later)
Handful of brown sugar
1/4 cup of olive oil
A whatever of ground pepper and sea salt. (To taste, I guess)
A splash of red wine (Optional, but whatever. Fat Clemenza recommended it)
I guess some spices from a generic spice rack or something. (To play with. I used some of the generic "Italian Seasoning" and "Oregano")
Tools- A large pan, sharp cooking knife, and a food processor. (Note: Everyone, and I mean EVERYone needs to invest in a good, sharp, cooking knife. Not just the bunch you get from Target. I mean invest, and keep the dumb thing sharp. Cutting crap should be as effortless as letting the blade fall across the veggie and you pull back your elbow to cut through. And the food processor? You don't need a $300 model, but for the times you'll probably break it out to make stuff? Not a bad investment. Otherwise, feel free to dirty up your margarita/daiquiri making blender.)
Prepare ingredients by opening the cans (If using fresh tomatoes, use 6 Roma tomatoes if that's your thing and cut into four piece then de-seed. Then chop them coarsely as well). Coarsely chop the onion and garlic. (See? "Coarse" in this case means "Not fancy and small". So it's easy. Get to da Choppah.) Heat the olive oil in the large pan over medium heat. Once it warms up a bit, put in the garlic and onion.
Babysit that pan until the onion gets a little clear (Don't burn the garlic) and sprinkle your herbs and brown sugar over the mess. Dump the cans of tomato in there with a splash of red wine. Lay the basil on top so it makes a for a good photo. Reduce the heat and let it simmer.
Once it starts bubbling a little, take it off the burner and shut off your stove. You'll need to be careful when transferring it to the food processor. (Clearly you can see that mine is a fancy wall-mounted model) So use a deep spoon and steady hands. On LOW, pulse the processor until the ingredients resemble the consistency of the shit you can find at the store in a jar.
Why low? Because as you can see from the photo above? You might wind up with more sauce than you (or your processor) can handle and it turns into a marinara sprinkler (tm). Put the superfluous sauce in tupperware.
Set yerself up for a fancy feast! Serve over pasta (I used farfalle) cooked to instruction. Serve w/fresh shaved parmesan or whatever comes in the green cardboard tube. Maybe with a side of garlic bread.
IMPORTANT TIP- Boil the water, cook for the allotted time, then shut off the stove and let it sit for another 3-5 minutes in the hot water. (Otherwise most boxed pasta winds up too al dente if you cook it exACTLY to the minute it says on the box.)
TIP 2- Feel free to "healthen" up the meal by substituting Barilla Protein Pasta or whole wheat noodles. Or, you know...just eat less.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Change is hard...and heavy (Pt. 3)
(Full disclaimer: As always, consult a physician or personal trainer before beginning any exercise routine- new or old. Or you'll die. No, I'm kidding. I talk about lifting pretty heavy weights, and if you do end up going this route make sure you have a partner or spotter on hand- or work with a trainer to determine ahead of time what you can do safely on your own)
So after all that frass and rigmarole, what's next? Combining Vibram runs with my low-cushion shoes was helping my race-training and keeping my knee's and joints healthy and hale. (Knock on wood) I was still a little frassy that the change in drinking habits didn't have a more profound affect on my bod. (Was I expecting to go from puffy-pancake to svelte with just one change? Well, yes. Actually) Moda was complimentary in terms of noticing the differences, and promptly started her training for her first full marathon- an endeavor I support fully- but wasn't even sure if I was racing at all in 2011. I was still thinking about going topless. And then once again, I find the universe speaks to us in strange ways. This time a couple of things happened in rather rapid succession:
-The costume fitting. I found out that I wasn't going to be running around like Tarzan with a pompadour and they were leaning toward the more traditional "Elvis" jumpsuited look. Still, the fact that I split the seam on the costume wasn't very encouraging. (pictured, again- Willem Dafoe backstage theater pose in costume change #2)
-I got super. Duper. Sick. In fact, I don't think I've been that sick/voice lost/wiped out since 1996. (Oddly enough, another children's show.) I looked back on my mileage on Mapmyrun over the last year and I logged a paltry 15 miles for the whole month of February. My priorities, however, were just being able to make noise when I sang.
And the coup de grace: My ass got fired. Citing missed days and an inability to be kosher with an actor's lifestyle, I was released. Sooooo...that was stressful. And I was left wondering "What Next"? So while I was juggling finding a new job, re-evaluating my life/work future et.al. I decided to make good on an idea I'd bounced around in my head the last time I was shitcanned- I'd use this as an excuse to start up a fairly intensive fitness program that incorporated race-training along with a pretty high-level weight routine in the interest of seeing if that had results.
See, I've always lifted weights. I've always been a strong advocate for cross training with iron no matter what your fitness pursuit- be it karate, pilates, yoga, running- whatever. It's good mechanics, and the pundits aren't wrong- You develop and improve lean muscle tissue and you'll conversely improve your metabolism in addition to strengthening joints/flexibility. You wouldn't be muscle bound per se, but you're improving the machine with which you explore the aforementioned "preferred pursuits".
Except what that meant to me since joining my gym was "Do a couple of quick sets hitting the whole body just to keep some muscle memory". (In other words, it was a 15 minute hiccup until I got my miles in) So I started doing two things: I increased the number of sets/reps - and I went heavy.
What's important to know, is that if you want to reap any sort of benefit from any exercise it needs to be at least somewhat taxing. That's why even though I don't consider snow-shovelling "exercise" necessarily- it still gets you breathing heavy and sweating. If you politely go through the motions of a weight routine with no effort, you aren't reaping the benefits. Period. (This is why, since the dawn of pumping iron, they say that you should work with a weight that is about 60-70% of your "max"- or rather- think of it as those last 2-3 reps should be tough to bang out)
One of the guys that filmed "Pumping Iron" wrote a corresponding book about "Arnold" that had a great quote in it describing how a teardrop of sweat was a permanent fixture on the end of his nose during his workouts. So while (for my part) I wasn't squatting the equivalent of the QE2, I was sweating. Not as profusely as a run, but I was getting sticky. And little by little, week by week? I was increasing the weights and number of sets I did. I was being careful to make sure my form wasn't compromised, or that I was "cheating". I ended up adding open-squats to my routine. Which was a first, since I used to always figure that my legs were getting worked out enough on my runs and that I didn't have to do a leg workout as intensively. And guess what? It started to be a bigger benefit to my running than I thought.
And yeah...the rest of my body responded to the shock, too. (I'm convincing myself that one nice thing about getting older is also that I'm getting stronger as a result. Nice, huh?
So what's the bottom line? The point? I could end it here by saying that I was able to run nearly a half-marathon distance during a training run a few weeks back and while it was tough, I was still mobile and was able to "go the distance" without stopping. (Or be incapacitated the next day) Or that even while someone squeezing your bicep is the knee-jerk way of seeing how "muscular" you are, I'm actually digging the definition and "hardness" of my calves and quads. (Although, polite society may frown on someone squeezing your leg. Recently I just dropped trou in front of Moda to show her, but we have pretty weak boundries)
I guess my strongest point in all of this, is that while it's taken over 7 months to work on and discover these new changes- it is possible to do it with some effort. The drawback is "yes- I'm spending a lot of my limited free time in the gym lifting" but I hope that once race training tapers off it will balance out. That the stipulation people put on aging and our bodies can be subverted. And that you end up with friends and a growing mutual support group along the way.
In addition to the improved self-respect with a smidgen of being a little happier in your own skin to boot. I'll be frassin about training in the weeks to come.
(pictured: The author, Moda, and D-Gang. Running buddies on their first outdoor partnered training run of 2011. And the weather was awful)
So after all that frass and rigmarole, what's next? Combining Vibram runs with my low-cushion shoes was helping my race-training and keeping my knee's and joints healthy and hale. (Knock on wood) I was still a little frassy that the change in drinking habits didn't have a more profound affect on my bod. (Was I expecting to go from puffy-pancake to svelte with just one change? Well, yes. Actually) Moda was complimentary in terms of noticing the differences, and promptly started her training for her first full marathon- an endeavor I support fully- but wasn't even sure if I was racing at all in 2011. I was still thinking about going topless. And then once again, I find the universe speaks to us in strange ways. This time a couple of things happened in rather rapid succession:
-The costume fitting. I found out that I wasn't going to be running around like Tarzan with a pompadour and they were leaning toward the more traditional "Elvis" jumpsuited look. Still, the fact that I split the seam on the costume wasn't very encouraging. (pictured, again- Willem Dafoe backstage theater pose in costume change #2)
-I got super. Duper. Sick. In fact, I don't think I've been that sick/voice lost/wiped out since 1996. (Oddly enough, another children's show.) I looked back on my mileage on Mapmyrun over the last year and I logged a paltry 15 miles for the whole month of February. My priorities, however, were just being able to make noise when I sang.
And the coup de grace: My ass got fired. Citing missed days and an inability to be kosher with an actor's lifestyle, I was released. Sooooo...that was stressful. And I was left wondering "What Next"? So while I was juggling finding a new job, re-evaluating my life/work future et.al. I decided to make good on an idea I'd bounced around in my head the last time I was shitcanned- I'd use this as an excuse to start up a fairly intensive fitness program that incorporated race-training along with a pretty high-level weight routine in the interest of seeing if that had results.
See, I've always lifted weights. I've always been a strong advocate for cross training with iron no matter what your fitness pursuit- be it karate, pilates, yoga, running- whatever. It's good mechanics, and the pundits aren't wrong- You develop and improve lean muscle tissue and you'll conversely improve your metabolism in addition to strengthening joints/flexibility. You wouldn't be muscle bound per se, but you're improving the machine with which you explore the aforementioned "preferred pursuits".
Except what that meant to me since joining my gym was "Do a couple of quick sets hitting the whole body just to keep some muscle memory". (In other words, it was a 15 minute hiccup until I got my miles in) So I started doing two things: I increased the number of sets/reps - and I went heavy.
What's important to know, is that if you want to reap any sort of benefit from any exercise it needs to be at least somewhat taxing. That's why even though I don't consider snow-shovelling "exercise" necessarily- it still gets you breathing heavy and sweating. If you politely go through the motions of a weight routine with no effort, you aren't reaping the benefits. Period. (This is why, since the dawn of pumping iron, they say that you should work with a weight that is about 60-70% of your "max"- or rather- think of it as those last 2-3 reps should be tough to bang out)
One of the guys that filmed "Pumping Iron" wrote a corresponding book about "Arnold" that had a great quote in it describing how a teardrop of sweat was a permanent fixture on the end of his nose during his workouts. So while (for my part) I wasn't squatting the equivalent of the QE2, I was sweating. Not as profusely as a run, but I was getting sticky. And little by little, week by week? I was increasing the weights and number of sets I did. I was being careful to make sure my form wasn't compromised, or that I was "cheating". I ended up adding open-squats to my routine. Which was a first, since I used to always figure that my legs were getting worked out enough on my runs and that I didn't have to do a leg workout as intensively. And guess what? It started to be a bigger benefit to my running than I thought.
And yeah...the rest of my body responded to the shock, too. (I'm convincing myself that one nice thing about getting older is also that I'm getting stronger as a result. Nice, huh?
So what's the bottom line? The point? I could end it here by saying that I was able to run nearly a half-marathon distance during a training run a few weeks back and while it was tough, I was still mobile and was able to "go the distance" without stopping. (Or be incapacitated the next day) Or that even while someone squeezing your bicep is the knee-jerk way of seeing how "muscular" you are, I'm actually digging the definition and "hardness" of my calves and quads. (Although, polite society may frown on someone squeezing your leg. Recently I just dropped trou in front of Moda to show her, but we have pretty weak boundries)
I guess my strongest point in all of this, is that while it's taken over 7 months to work on and discover these new changes- it is possible to do it with some effort. The drawback is "yes- I'm spending a lot of my limited free time in the gym lifting" but I hope that once race training tapers off it will balance out. That the stipulation people put on aging and our bodies can be subverted. And that you end up with friends and a growing mutual support group along the way.
In addition to the improved self-respect with a smidgen of being a little happier in your own skin to boot. I'll be frassin about training in the weeks to come.
(pictured: The author, Moda, and D-Gang. Running buddies on their first outdoor partnered training run of 2011. And the weather was awful)
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