Massanutten Mountain Trail Race- Crew Preview

We're somewhere in upstate NY heading down to Virginia  once again- this time with My Runner's pop Ultra Dad and his half brother Kiddo.  The MMT is a 100 mile race in the mountains of VA, which My Runner attempted for the first time last year. While Ultra Dad has completed MMT before, the course has been re-routed this year keeping it fresh even for veterans.
Initially the plan was to crew with Kiddo for the first 63 miles, then if needed jump in and pace. Since my ankle has been bum, Ib obviously haven't been running, never minding training to pace.
Not being able to pace has been the biggest disappointment of this injury. It was one of my goals this year, and had I stayed innjury-free I could have acheived it.
On the bright side, I'm very much on the mend.  Mrs. Strong lent me a bracer the I canuse walking or sporting, and wearing it has helped. And because I'm stubborn, I brought my running gear.
Crewing for the two guys should be interesting. The weather is supposed to be lovely tomorrow, which is great since the majority of the drive down has been in pouring rain on crappy roads with old wind sheild wipers. I'm actually looking forward to the crewing experience again. Sorta like my Mom once desceibed working in the ER: hours of nothing interrupted by a few minutes of crazy.
Kiddo seems like a good kid, though I'm thoroughly UN-versed in the interests of thirteen-year-old boys. So far I've learned he has a love/hate relationship with his iPhone, changes the parts on his mountain bike often, and his very favoritest thing is Dunkin' Donuts White Hot Chocolate. Go figure.

New Recipe: February

Barley Risotto with Cauliflower and Red Wine

In pursuit of my goal to cook at least one new recipe a month, last night I made Barley Risotto.  I had picked up the ingredients late last week, then ended up with no time to cook.  Luckily, dried barley is UBER shelf-stable, I always have wine, and cauliflower takes a long time to get nasty in the fridge.

I've never cooked barley before.  I've never made risotto before.  So.... this was interesting.

I used my medium sized enamel-coated cast-iron pot (a dutch oven), but I think this could be made in a stainless steal stock pot as well.  I just don't have one.  Well, I do, but it's currently in the cupboards at Camp, which is closed up for the winter.  It was messy.  Make sure the cauliflower is cut up real small - almost a dice.  There's a lot of stirring and big pieces kept flying out or pushing barley bits out.  Bad enough to have bits all over the stove, but after putting the red wine in, the bits were like little stain-bombs.

The barley took about 45 minutes to fully cook.  I probably used 1-1/2 boxes of chicken stock total.  Also, because I love cheese, I amped that up.  The end result is a strange puce color, but yummy.  Probably could have added salt?  But the flavor was a little... one-note for a main dish.  The cauliflower didn't get the nutty flavor I was hoping for.  Perhaps roasting it first could have achieved that, but I don't think I'll be taking that extra step.  It also made a HUGE amount.  Unless you're feeding 4 people regularly, cut the recipe in half.

The barley made a delicious risotto.  I'll be working with it again like classic risotto, trying it on its own, adding mushrooms or chicken or other types of cheese.  This recipe was a good place to start.

Body Con

One side effect of all this running and hockey playing and trapezing (next class is Saturday, wOOt!!) is that I've lost about 15 lbs and 2 or 3 sizes. Which, well, good, I guess. But I can't say it ever really mattered.

I'm of the body acceptance camp. You have your body, and there's a limited amount of things you can do to control how it looks. Western society holds up unrealistic images of beauty for women (and even some for men, but obviously it's more prevalent for women). I spent most of my life hating the way I looked - my nose, my feet, my hands, my "Buddah Belly" (thanks for that quaint nick-name, family). I never believed it when someone told me I looked nice or good or even cute. NEVER. That's a lot of stress on a girl! I went through the phases - deciding not to give a crap and eat whatever I wanted, which just made me fatter, then deciding to give a crap and work out like a mo fo and got skinnier, but none of it made me HAPPIER. Not until I decided to accept my shape, no matter what it was.

I also don't believe that fat people are inherently lazy. It's the most socially acceptable form of prejudice to dislike or mock people who are heavy. Hell, I've been guilty of it (though mostly I mock what people are WEARING, not their size - taste is ALWAYS mockable). Now that I'm getting more and more into sports and running, etc, the media that I'm looking at denounces fat. Well, fuck you. Some people enjoy life in different ways. Also, go to any race, even the VT50 - there were people there that I would NEVER expect to be runners based on their size. But they ran - muddy trails in back woods for more miles than most people walk in a month. Are they lazy? No.

So, yes, I work out. I run. I play sports. But it's not to be "skinny." Part of the freedom of body acceptance is accepting that your choices have consequences. I made a choice that I would make myself happy, no matter what that meant at a given time. Sometimes it makes me happy to play hockey for 2 hours, so I do. The consequence of that choice can mean sore muscles and bruising over 60% of my body as well as serious caloric burn. Sometimes it makes me happy to eat nachos and drink margaritas, (ok, most of the time it makes me happy to eat nachos and drink margaritas) and the consequence of this choice is a fully belly but also experiences with friends and loved ones that deepen my relationship with them.

So, if you see me and say, "Gosh, Leeapeea, you're so thin!" and I give you a weird look and a questionable, "Thanks," let's go ahead and move on to another topic, m'k? Maybe order a plate of nachos and a couple of margs... ;-)

5K Training - Running in the Rain

I'm training for my first 5K race scheduled for Thanksgiving morning. This is my first "training" run - previously I had been running just to run, or to warm up for hockey. For my first "training," I had planned to run two miles last night. Then, well, maybe 1.5. I barely made it 1.

It was POURING yesterday. I wanted to have the experience of running in adverse conditions. Of course I have no "gear" for running in the rain - just a gortex rain jacket (thanks, Smarty Pants!) and, well, clothes. My Runner has all this stuff - spandex underarmor, arm bands, tech shirt... I have yoga pants and a long-sleeved tee from Old Navy.

All day I had been ready to run. I was psyched about signing up for the 5K with Pocket Size, and she and I had made a schedule to run together before the race. I'm working on a training schedule - there's a lot of "couch to 5K" type programs that are easy to adapt. All my planning is based on the thought that I could go at least 1.5 miles on this run.

Even when the day turned as dark as night and the rain was coming down in sheets, I was ready to go. I was excited to get wet. It felt hardcore to run in the rain. Like, maybe now that I'm a jock, I can *also* be a runner. My Runner asked me, "You sure you want to run?" about eight times while we were getting ready. YES. I want to run.

We drive to the park where we usually run, but it's so dark the thought of running through the woods is kinda scary. Even though it's wetter, we decide to use the track. This was bad choice number two (bad choice number one happened earlier, but I didn't know it yet). There are three guys working on speed - THEY are hardcore. I am an amateur. But I'm ready to run. I'm excited to be here. We start running as we approach the track. About 50 yards in, it hits me: I don't wanna run.

My body is more than complaining, it's fighting me. Every muscle that I use to run is bitching that it has the day off. It starts cajoling me - just walk, it says. We don't mind moving, but not running, please, anything but that!!

I slow my pace, but I keep going. My Runner has upped the positive energy to help me through it. "How do you feel?" he asks a few times. "Fine." (Subtext - I don't want to think about how I'm feeling, I just want to finish and get it over with.) The rain isn't bothering me. The cold is there, but not with a mission, not with a vengeance. I just don't want to be running.

I know 1.5 won't happen. But I can't run less than a mile. I won't walk - I know this is something my body CAN do, and I know I'm not going to hurt myself running a mile. Besides, I'm here, I'm wet, and I've dragged another person with me. I tell myself these things over and over. I think about Sherpa and the fact that he did this for THIRTY SIX HOURS and I'll be done in less than 15 minutes.

Why is my body rebelling? I played hockey on Monday, ran a mile before that on the track with no problem. I didn't even drink the night before. I ate lunch at.... oh. There it is. The last thing I ate was a banana at 2:30pm, more than 3 hours ago. Mistake number one has reared it's ugly head.

I can't not eat. Well, I can, but it turns me into Mr. Hyde. My blood sugar levels completely affect me emotionally and physically. I've made this mistake before - most recently at a hockey practice where I became dizzy and sick after playing a hard 15 -20 minutes of 3 on 3. Now I carry the granola bars Mop bought me that night in my hockey bag - half of one will stave off any issues without filling me so much I don't want to move around. Tonight I have learned that lesson again.

We complete the mile. I have a little pang in my side and a pit in my stomach a mile wide. Smells from The Puritan Restaurant are driving me wild. When we get back in the car, my brain shuts off and I'm floating through the world. I need to get food now.

Home's not too far, food's heating up less than 10 minutes after leaving the park. I wolf down the fabulous smoked beef and local veggies My Runner cooked up and brought over, washing it down with a Gold Lager from Soudt's, I make my third mistake: food overkill. I stressed my body by exercising with no fuel, and it was not interested in the high octane it was getting. I kept eating, knowing that I needed it, but I was not feeling good, and it was all I could do to keep my brain on the conversation My Runner and I were having. Even then, I'm not sure I was all that successful.

So - lessons learned: 1. Set appropriate goals. 2. EAT, fool! 3. If you break a rule, don't overdue the fix.

Next training run: Friday. Plan: 1 mi, + up to .5 if I'm feeling it. Goal: distance.