P is for Penance

P is for:

PANCAKES
PASTA
POTATOES
PORK
PHISH (Swedish, variety)
POTATO chiPs
And ... PARTY.

And when one PARTAKES of all of the above, as in "PIGGING Out," one must PAY the PIPER.

You see, I had a great weekend! Friday night brought a little unexpected celebration as Jim and I took my mom out for fish. I managed to stick to the baked cod, but enjoyed a couple of drinks and way too much bread.

Saturday, after a PLANNED PREPARATORY workout that included a little extra time and effort, we headed north for a beautiful girl's graduation party. We stopped for brunch on the way  to Neenah and I ordered the biggest PLATE OF PANCAKES I could find. I don't really like PANCAKES, as I think I've mentioned, but I've been POSITIVELY POSSESSED with the thought of them for a couple of weeks. So I ate 'em. And they were delicious, buttery, syrup-y POINTLESS and useless calories.

The PARTY food was yummo, too. Both mac and cheese and PESTO PASTA salad, cheesy POTATOES, PULLED PORK, and a candy bar ... that included PEANUT butter M&Ms and Swedish PHISH. Throw a couple of beers in there with cake and handful after handful of POTATO chiPs, and oy vey.

To top it all off, we stayed overnight so we could enjoy breakfast with out-of-town friends and, you guessed it, PANCAKES again!

So you know what all of that means, right?

PENANCE today once we got home. PAYBACK, if you will, for all the PLAYING and off-PLAN activity.

I put 12 miles on today, walking, and still have a few days of "extra" calorie burn to come this week.

But it was worth it. I'm off PANCAKES again for a good long while, too. They were delicious. I ate them. I enjoyed them and now it's over.

PHEW.

International Chocolate

A dear friend, who is fortunate enough to travel across all continents frequently (I'm talking five or six serious trips abroad each year, or so it seems), just returned from London. One of the best parts of our relationship is that I get to live vicariously through him. There's nothing I love more than to have him pop into my office when he returns to real life. I ask a million questions and he provides a million answers.

The cool thing is that we are very different people ... which makes this exchange more fascinating to me. When we first started working together, I was the green rookie and he was the seasoned veteran. He works in pictures, I am the words. He is Filipino and I was born in the middle of a loaf of Wonder Bread. What I like about this is that I think he sees things I wouldn't see. Or sees things differently than I would. It makes his descriptions and stories more fascinating because they come from a perspective different from my own.

I find it so funny that our travel conversations often turn to food. What better way to experience a culture? To learn the heart and soul of a city or neighborhood? What else brings people together the same way?

Tuesday he told me about the highlight of his London trip: Peking Duck at a Chinese restaurant. It was better than the Peking Duck he's had in Shanghai and Hong Kong. Isn't that so ... unexpected and delicious?

Wednesday, he popped back in my office with this:

What I love most about it is that all the nutrition info is in
"England English." Grams instead of ounces ... and the label
just sounds more gentile and proper than American labels. 

He said, "I remembered in London that I thought about bringing you some chocolate from Switzerland." He dropped it on my desk and ducked back out.

Surprise English chocolate delivered with a great food story by an old friend is every bit as good as Swiss chocolate, in my opinion. Maybe better.

And though I pretended to put up a fuss today about "caving in" and eating it, I didn't really fight that hard. I enjoyed a few heavenly squares. With no regrets and a smile.

Summer BBQ Chicken Pizza

I left work late, had an errand to run and didn't get home until 6:30. Jim was about 15 minutes behind  me, which meant dinner needed to be fast because by 7 p.m., as a general rule, I'm STARVING.

First order of business is whipping up some veggie dip (low fat sour cream and Dill Dip packet) and throwing some raw veg on the kitchen island. This situation is exactly why I prep my fruit/veggie groceries when I get home from the store ... so they're ready and waiting for me. I shove as many cauliflower florets, red pepper strips, baby carrots and grape tomatoes in my face as fast as I can.  Ahhh. Now I can assemble the ingredients for tonight's main course.

Summer BBQ Chicken Pizza
1 whole wheat thin pizza crust (A pita would work and so would a whole wheat tortilla.)
1/2 jar Williams-Sonoma BBQ Pizza Sauce (can't find this online, but it was DELISH!)
1 leftover grilled chicken breast, cut in chunks
Big handful of sliced mushrooms
1/4 big red onion, sliced
1" x 2" hunk of parmesan cheese, grated
3 slices of reduced fat provolone cheese (the pre-sliced sandwich slice kind)

Put sauce on crust and pile on the rest. Cook at 400 degrees until cheese and edges are bubbly and brown.

How is this healthy, you ask? Compared to gazpacho, it's not. But the crust is whole wheat, the toppings are a much better option than "real" pizza and it's VERY light on cheese. And because it's so good, you'll never miss the heavier, greasier version from your local pizza shop.

The best news is I still have half a jar of that sauce left ... so I will get to eat it again soon. I'm already dreaming of what I can do with it. That will also give me some time to try and figure out how to make my own lower-in-salt-and-sugar version.

Here's the sauce. And the empty pizza pan. I probably 

should have thought of taking a photo earlier, huh?

 But an empty pan is proof that it was good, right? 

Today, June 25, 2013

5:09 a.m. Alarm goes off.

5:35 a.m. I roll out of bed, hit the loo, put on workout clothes. Two Advil and one Glucosamine.

5:40 a.m. Start pedaling on my trainer bike in the basement. I am on the hardest gear and I jack up my pace during all commercial breaks. I sweat like a mofo.

6:30 a.m. Done with the bike. Get ready for work.

7:30 a.m. Make breakfast before heading out the door ... sandwich thin with light garden cream cheese. Grab two plums from fridge. In car, drink one can of Cherry Coke Zero over ice.

7:50-ish a.m. Arrive at work and eat one plum.

8:30 a.m. Pour Diet Coke over ice and enjoy.

9:30 a.m. Gum. Sugarlass Mentos Gum. I always need two pieces. My mouth is big or something. I also snap it when I chew it which has to be completely annoying for others. So if I catch myself doing it, I spit it out.

11:30 a.m. Leave for lunch. I don't eat lunch out a lot. Today, I had a salad that included greens, a couple of tomato slices, a couple of cucumber slices, a pile of shredded roasted chicken and at least an ounce of shredded cheese. Normally, I don't eat meat at lunch. So my initial plan is to eat just a bit of it, and just a bit of the cheese. But we actually sit and chat for a while and I end up eating all of it. They gave me two little containers of balsamic vinaigrette and I actually use about half of one, probably a Tablespoon's worth. Oh, and there's Diet Pepsi involved. I should be embarrassed by this, but I'm not.

3 p.m. 30-minute massage. (I am lucky that my workplace offers this option ... a guy comes to our building. It's $24 for 30 minutes and the convenience is well worth it to me.) This is the third time in about 2 months I've done this. He works on my shoulders and it is so freaking awesome. Last time I was sore for two days afterward. Today, I ask about my knee and hip, wondering if massage could help that. He pokes around a bit (holy mother of all that is good ... ow!) and then says acupuncture might be a good choice.

3:40 p.m. Eat second plum. Then more gum. And a glass of water with a lime margarita powder mix-in. It's like having a cocktail at work, but legal.

5:30 p.m. Grocery shopping. Load up on produce. Five pretzels on the way home. Or "crack" as my husband calls them.

6:30 p.m. Dinner. Salad that includes lettuce, spinach, red onion, leftover grilled zucchini, cherry tomatoes, carrots, banana pepper rings, fake crab, shredded cojack cheese and a swirl of Light Ranch. Dessert is bad grapes. And two more pretzels.

7 p.m. Cut up strawberries, cauliflower, wash grapes, make raw veg ziplocs for lunch tomorrow and Thursday that include cauliflower, snap peas and cherry tomatoes.

8 p.m. Blog.

Still to do: Hip flexor PT exercises and leg lifts. Two Advil, one multi-vitamin, one Glucosamine. Bed by 10. Sleep by 11.

Grade: Too much diet soda, not enough water. Too many empty-calorie pretzels. Lunch was higher in calories and cheese than a typical day and more than I should have.

And tomorrow is another day.

Reader Participation 1

Here's a new series. I'm hoping that you take part. Why? Mostly because I just have to believe you're tired of listening to me every day. And also because I think there are some really smart readers out there and we can learn from each other.

So Reader Participation 1 question is:

What is your favorite workout?

Reply here in the comments box or on the Carsick Caravan Facebook page. https://www.facebook.com/CarsickCaravan

How Do You Teach Healthy?

My kids (nieces) are gone. Safely back with Grandma (my mom) until their own mom (my sister) returns from a mini-vacation tomorrow.

We had a blast. We shopped. We mini golfed. We rode go-karts. We chased chickens. We skee-balled. We Monster Universitied. It was fun and exhausting.

And we ate. Buffet. Hot dogs. Corn dogs. Chips. Popcorn. Sour Patch Kids. Licorice. Hubba Bubba. FroYo. Dunkin Donuts. Not all at once, but still. Oy vey.

I went for a walk this morning and thought through it. The girls didn't eat a single vegetable yesterday. They did have mandarin oranges, but that clearly was not enough to save the day.

It got me wondering ...

How do you talk to your kids about nutrition? About food? About exercise? About health? About how you feel when you look in the mirror, your own struggles or your own insecurities? My nieces are 11 and 9. They're entering those dangerous years where body image and self esteem can run amok and it's scary.

It seems like such a minefield.

I try not to talk about skinny and fat. Or good and bad foods. Or use food as reward. I try very hard to make sure I talk about getting healthy instead of losing weight, but I don't hide anything from them either. They remember me bigger. They are aware of the change. And they are old enough to understand that I spend a fair amount of time exercising or talking about exercise. They also clearly hear me talking about food, what I choose to eat, what I don't eat, and why.

And then I buy them Dunkin Donuts because they beg me to. (But I limit it to two each, one time per visit, dear sister. I swear.)

Do kids get information about nutrition in school? Do they learn how to eat? Do you spend time talking about it at your own dinner table? Tell me how you do this.

Drops

I'm on a new strength workout plan. And so far, I like it.

In the past, I haven't been very consistent with my lifting plan. I did it here and there, using it mostly as a substitute when I couldn't do cardio due to injury or using it when I didn't have time for cardio because I got up too late or when I was simply too lazy to sweat.

I think the reason I couldn't get serious about it was because I really didn't know what to do. I dibbled. I dabbled. I tried to follow some DVDs. I tried to make a formal plan. But I really just couldn't get in a groove.

And I never felt like I was doing "enough." I didn't sweat. I didn't really get tired. I wasn't sure I was getting a real workout.

So I consulted someone more knowledgable than me and he suggested "drops."

Drops is where you start with, say, 40 repetitions of something. And then you drop to 30, then 20, then 10.

I put together a list of four to seven exercises that work my shoulders, triceps, chest and biceps. I run through each 40 times with as much weight as I can stand. I don't necessarily use the same weight for each of the seven exercises, but I use the same weight each time I do exercise #1, if that makes sense.

Once I complete the circuit of 40 reps on each exercise, I repeat the circuit at 30 reps for each. Then 20, then 10.

By the time I get to the 10 round, I'm whipped. It's hard to get through those.

It's taking me 30-40 minutes and I feel really good afterward. Because I'm working my whole upper body, my friend says I should take two rest days off in between sessions to give my muscles time to recover.

So far, so good. I'll keep you posted.

It's Gonna Be Hot ...

Summer is here. Officially.

How do I know? Summer solstice. My grandma's birthday. (She'd be 105 tomorrow and she LOVED the heat.) Well, those things and I watch Haddy McClain on News 3 every morning.

With lows in the 70s for the next few days, the road never really cools off. And with highs in the high 80s/low 90s with an abundance of humidity, they seem to steam during the day.

That means you need to be careful.

• Get out there early when it's cooler. 
• Carry water even if you aren't going far. 
• Take some to drink and some to dump over your head. 
• Drink when you're not thirsty. 
• Drink before you leave the house. 
• And drink some more when you get home. 

If you notice you're NOT sweating, time to call for help. Oh, need to add one more thing to that list:

• Take your phone and your water. 

Just be smart. And remember, convulsions aren't cute. 

Do you have any tips or tricks for staying cool during your workout when it's hot? Comment here or on Facebook! 

While the ocean breeze is nice, the sand
makes for a tough ride. (And it's not easy
to find an ocean in these parts.)

What Did You Eat for Your Afternoon Snack?

I bet mine was less delicious.

Well, I bet it was today, anyway.

I rode my bike to work (3 for 3 on my one-day-a-week goal) and my trip back home utilizes a bike path that runs parallel the river. On one side is the water and on the other side is the road. The road bed, however, is much higher than the trail which means the trail is really in a sort of wooded valley next to the water.

The shade is lovely and I suspect I will appreciate it more as the temperatures rise. However, the combination of shade, water and foliage mean that the trail is full of bugs.

Enormous swarms of gnats.

Swarms that I have to ride through. Swarm after swarm.

Thank goodness for sunglasses. The lenses, and my helmet, look a lot like the nose of my car with bug guts plastered all over them.

Huffing and puffing is also a very bad idea. In fact, opening your mouth at all is a very bad idea.

Yummm. Protein?

I Hate Peas

I hate peas. Hate 'em.

I don't like them in cold salads. Feel free to make my classic 7-Layer Salad with half as much gross mayo and no peas. And, feel free to call it a 5-and-a-Half-Layer Salad, if you wish.

I don't like them warm, either. I hate chasing them around my plate when they are served as an ordinary vegetable side (mostly because I hate using spoons, but that's a story for another day). I hate them mixed in with something hot ... like beef stew or chicken pot pie ... because they offer zero flavor and virtually no texture except soggy/mushy in those venues. 

And yet, I'm a bit obsessed with sugar snap peas right now. Love 'em. 

Normally, I try to avoid eating too many starchy vegetables. Since corn, potatoes (even sweet potatoes) and peas fall in that category, they don't show up in our house much. 

But there's something about eating the pod that makes me feel better about the whole pea thing. They're sweet and super crunchy and so good right out of the fridge. 

And you don't have to use a spoon. 

10 Things About the Fort Half, Part 2

And here it is. The thrilling conclusion:

6. It was cool to see people I knew along the course. A high school pal was manning a water station with a Boy Scout troop. My nieces showed up in their PJs, one riding her bike a couple of blocks with me, sporting PJ pants, flip flops and a helmet. I saw friends of my sister's, sisters of my friends, shoppers from my Sentry days ... all perfectly lovely.

7. I didn't train to run 13.1. I really only "ran" about 8 and even those miles were S.L.O.W. If truth be told, I didn't "train" at all. I have been active, but I haven't been putting in activity with a goal. That was the biggest difference between this one and the last one. On the one hand, I love the fact that I can wake up and go put in 13.1 miles just because I want to ... walking, running, whatever. Obviously, there was a time in my life where that wasn't possible. On the other hand, I can't believe how sore I am today because I didn't train properly. I am a hurting unit. My back and shoulders hurt. My quads are screaming. It hurts to sit, to stand, to climb stairs. I have a baseball size lump on the back of my injection knee ... think I might have aggravated the ever-present Baker's cyst. But if you'd told me on Friday that I'd run 8 miles on Saturday, I'd have told you you were full of shit. I haven't run more than 2-ish miles in months. Which brings me to the next point:

8. Your body is capable of so much more than you give it credit for. Think you can't do a 5K or a 10K? That's a load of crap. You can. You might not run it. You might not win it. But you can finish it. And doing so will make you want to do it again. And do it better. Challenge yourself.

9. I heard this at some point in the last couple of days. I'm not even sure where. But it was resonating in my head as I trudged along. "The race is the victory lap." Meaning that the "work" is in the training. When you train right, there is no point in worrying about race day. Sit back, relax, run your race and enjoy it because you have earned it. Did you know most marathon training plans don't have you run 26.2 miles before the actual race? On some plans, the longest training run you do is 20 miles. Why? Because if you can run 20, your body is absolutely capable of running 26. Nice, huh? I can't tell you how cool it feels to just "know" you can do it.

10. While my 2h 37m finish was a dismal and below middle of the pack 342nd overall, 182nd out of 214 women, and 17th out of 22 in my age group, I am still proud of it. Lots and lots of people finished ahead of me. A small handful finished behind me. But I wasn't sure I'd ever do this again. Wasn't sure that I COULD do this again. So that's my victory. And it's a big one. I proved to myself that I can do it, injury and all. My head needed that confirmation more than you'll ever know.

So, here's the deal. I'm officially looking for racing partners for next year's race, especially my Fort friends.  We'll start training early enough and our goal is to finish. Walk, run, whatever. We can do this.

Anyone in? You get hardware. I'm not a big fan of even numbers, so I need one more medal to join this group:

2012 LaCrosse Half, 2013 Fort Half

10 Things About the Fort Half, Part 1

This year's medal. I like it.

I'm doing a lot of thinking today about yesterday's race. OK, I can't really call what I did "racing" in the truest sense in that I was basically by myself from the 6.5 mile mark to the finish line AND I was slower than molasses, but it was a still a race. Since it's long, I'm putting Things 1-5 here and will cover 6-10 tomorrow. 

1. What is it with me, half marathons and rain? If you recall, I woke up early on the morning of the LaCrosse half in April 2012 to thunder, lightening and downpour. (Pre-race post: http://carsickcaravan.blogspot.com/2012/05/pre-race-checklist.html. Immediately following race post: http://carsickcaravan.blogspot.com/2012/05/half-check.html. The aftermath post: http://carsickcaravan.blogspot.com/2012/05/not-sore-and-other-surprising.html) The weather broke enough to get the half in, but race organizers cancelled the full because bad weather was going to swoop back in too quickly. Yesterday, the drizzle was sort of nice to listen to as we ran through tree canopy covered country roads. It almost sounded like there was a babbling brook following us. I'm glad I didn't stay home ... it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be.

2. It was very cool to run through my life, so to speak. We started at my Junior High School,  ran out of town on one of my bus routes, traveled past the road/through the neighborhood I grew up on/in, went through the parking lot of the place my husband used to work, my sister met me at the end of her street with requested and needed ibuprofen, then we cruised past my elementary school and high school buildings, down Main Street, back behind the neighborhood I lived in until I was 4 years old, past Sentry where I used to work and finally back to Jones Park. I guess we can call that a run down Memory Lane, right? The flashbacks kept my brain busy, so I didn't have time to think too long or too hard about my knee, my blisters, the wet, etc.

3. My plan was to walk the course. Maybe throw in a run for a mile or two. But damn! It's hard to walk when everyone else is running! Throwing caution to the wind, I started running at the start line and decided I'd keep it up until it hurt too much. Then my sense came back and reminded me that I didn't train to run 13.1 and I'd never finish that way. So I adjusted my plan yet again. Run two miles, walk one, repeat. I did that cycle three times and at mile 9, I noticed that I was quickly losing steam. So, I popped some magic jelly beans, plugged in my headphones, and searched for the most fun, dance-y tunes I could find. Then I really just did intervals for the last four miles. Run a few minutes, walk a few minutes, all with a smile on my face. I'm pretty sure the people at the last water station thought I was nuts, as I boogied my way through.

4. Compared to LaCrosse, I was much less stressed about the whole thing. Knowing I was going to walk helped ... there was no pressure. When I was registering, the lady asked, "Are you running the 5K or the half?" I said, "Actually, I'm probably mostly walking the half." And a guy behind her said, "You'll still finish ahead of the people on the couch." He's right. No shame in slow. No shame in walking. It's not me vs. all those other people; it's me vs. myself.

5. This race was much smaller than LaCrosse. Far fewer people out on the course cheering. Fewer water stations and bathrooms (but still plenty). There were no pace groups to align with (not that I planned on using them anyway) and no mid-course clocks to show you split times. I did pick out two of my own pacers ... one being a 19-year-old friend of the family who was doing her first race. I kept her in my sights for the first half of the course, but ended up passing her near the halfway mark. Then I spotted a gray haired man who was at in the 65+ age group (I checked the standings today to find him/his time). We jockeyed back and forth for a while and he finally pulled ahead. My goal was to catch him. I never did, but he never got out of my sights and I thanked him for being my pacer at the end of the race. My hat is off to you, sir.

Tune in tomorrow for the thrilling conclusion ...

(That cracked me up. If you get tired of reading this shit, let me know.)

She's Got the Right Idea

My second half marathon is in the books. It was a MUCH different race than my first for, oh, I don't know, 100 different reasons. But I'll talk about that later. I just have one quick story I want to share with you first, because I love it so much.

It's somewhere between mile 2 and mile 3, on a walking interval of my run/walk plan. I hear this really funny, choppy gait coming up behind me. I can tell the stride is VERY short and the feet are not striking the ground in a normal way. They're sort of scuffing the pavement ... like the motion you'd make if you were trying to put a black mark on a floor with a shoe. Skidding the toe of your foot and stopping it abruptly.

All I can think is that it sounds like a little kid. Or someone who has no idea how to really run, because that just can't be comfortable.

It gets closer and closer and as it pulls up along-side me, I see that it is a teeny, tiny woman with gray/white hair. She's old. Very old. And she's all decked out in fancy running gear. I can tell immediately that she's been a runner for a long time. This is very clearly not her first rodeo.

She's tan, her hair is a short, no-fuss-no-muss style. She has wire-rim glasses. She immediately puts me in mind of a university professor for some reason.

(I don't want you to miss these important facts: She's old. She just passed me.)

She gets in front of me a bit and then she walks. Then she runs a few hundred feet. Then walks. And keeps repeating this pattern.

At mile 3, it's time for me to start running again. So I fire up, and eventually catch her. Just as I get ready to pass her, she looks over her shoulder, past me, back into the pack.

"Don't worry!" I say. "There are a LOT of people still behind us," I cheerfully reassure her.

"Oh," she says with a slight German accent. "I'm not worried about that," she keeps talking as she continues to search for something back there.

Then she turns her head fully toward me and adds, "I'm looking for my husband. I just can't let him catch up to me."

It's all I can do to not burst out laughing.

You go, girl!

Happy Buttons

I've officially dug into my summer clothes.

And some of them are snug. It's so defeating.

But it shouldn't be. It should be inspiring. It should be action-producing. Habit-changing. Stop-feeding-your-face-reminding.

Everything still buttons. But some buttons are not as happy as they'd like to be.

I'm officially in search of happier buttons.

That Bike Girl

I rode my bike to work again this morning. I was better prepared this time ... had taken in a change of clothes, curling iron and travel blow dryer yesterday so I didn't have to carry all that in my backpack. It was warmer outside, so the ride itself was more pleasant. I sailed in the parking lot and zipped up elevator and hit the showers.

This afternoon, I grabbed my backpack and changed back into my biking clothes in a restroom. I went back into my office to shut down my computer and lock up. On my way by a conference room, a coworker who had seen me arrive in the morning called out, "Hey! I forgot to tell you something."

I backed up.

"The ladies I rode the elevator with this morning were talking about you," she said. "They were all sorts of mad. They said, 'That bike girl should use her hand signals. I almost clipped her as she cut across the road in all that traffic.' You really pissed them off."

I got all sorts of defensive. A) There was no traffic on my way in. At all. I spend a good deal of my time looking over my shoulder  and there just wasn't anyone to cut off or dart in front of. B) At the "big intersection" near work, I wasn't turning. I was going straight. So there are no hand signals for that. C) I'm forever complaining about how rude drivers are, so I think I am a really good biker in that I'm very careful to do what is right and be a good "share-er of the road" in return.

I bid her adieu and spent the first part of my ride home sputtering. How dare they say I did something wrong? They probably think I should be riding on the sidewalk. What do they know? If I ever see them, I'm going to give them a piece of my mind!

And then it hit me.

I wasn't really mad.

They called me "That Bike Girl."

Not, "That old lady." Not "That fat girl." Not "That chick trying to ride a bike."

That Bike Girl.

I'll take it.

Favorite 1-2 Easy Grill Combos

We had the BEST salmon steaks tonight. I gobbled up my 4 oz. portion and wanted at least three more. So freaking good. And to think, I didn't like salmon ... at all ... three years ago.

All we did was rub on some Weber Grill brand BBQ spice and, voila! Delicousness. It got me thinking about other easy grill meat and spice combos that never fail. Here's my list ... but if you have suggestions, add them! I'm always up for for something new.

Grill Combos
1. Salmon and Weber Grill brand BBQ rub: For supper in a hurry, I like the Roundy's brand frozen salmon. The white and blue bag contains eight individually wrapped, 4-oz. portions that thaw in no time.
2. Chicken breast or thighs and Tajin: You know how I love Tajin. It's lime and spice and yum. The chicken leans Mexican, but can also go Asian, if you're so inclined.
3. Ground turkey breast and an envelope of taco or fajita seasoning. Sometimes I put this right in with the meat as it's browning vs. waiting for it to get done, mixing the packet with water and letting it bubble together.
4. Haddock or cod fillet and lemon pepper seasoning. Easy. Classic. Not revolutionary. But still good.
5. And, all of these spices work on your grilled veg, too! I like the lemon pepper with asparagus, especially! But zucchini, summer squash, onions and peppers will take anything mentioned up above.

Summer Challenge Schedule

The best way for me to kick it in gear is to have something to work toward.

So here's my tentative, but official, Summer Challenge Schedule. I had one last year, too, but the hip bursitis took over and totally derailed it.

Saturday, June 15: Fort Half Marathon. I'm going to walk it, which kind of bums me out. But it's better than not doing it.

Sunday, Aug. 18: Tour de Fort. We're going to do the Metric Century, which is 63 miles. https://www.facebook.com/events/382170581904404/

Saturday, Oct. 5: Tyranena Ocktoberfest Bike Ride. I think I can do 70 miles if there's beer at the end! http://www.tyranena.com/bikeride/

I'd love to have others join me ... we don't have to all do the same distances. What do you have planned? If you want to, share your races here or on Facebook and maybe other CC readers will join!

Cupcake Run

"What time is it?" I ask.

"It's 4:40 p.m. How far is it from here?" she replies. 

"They're open until 5. We have to get through this checkout line, hop on the Beltline, go a few exits, get off the Beltline, drive through a residential area, find the parking garage and then make a run for it." I say. 

"Can we make it?" she asks with a slightly wrinkled up nose.

"You'd better be ready to drive. I mean drive. Think you can stick with me?" I challenge.

"Ahem. Did you see me cut off the guy in the West Towne parking lot so I could keep up with you on the way here? I can drive," she defiantly responds, as little sisters do when big sisters throw down the gauntlet. 

We check out, show the Sam's Club guy our receipt on the way out and quickly walk to our cars. 

"You ready?" I holler as I climb in my Ford Edge. 

"Bring it on," she fires back as she slides into her Pontiac G6. 

Engine on, D for drive and off we go. In perfect synchronization, we turn left onto Gammon Road, merge right to get on the ramp and zoom up onto the Beltline. Soon, we see the sign for Midvale Boulevard, duck into the exit lane and head toward Hilldale. We pass schools where Sunday afternoon soccer games are going on, keeping our eyes peeled for kids, cars pulling away from the parked-full curbs and cops. 

I never can remember how far it is, because I don't make the trip that often. We cruise through nice neighborhoods, past another school, a little shopping/condo district. The time on my dash clock keeps ticking ... 4:52 ... 4:53 ... 4:54. 

There it is! The Hilldale sign. I dart in the driveway. Parking garage on my left and on my right, Macy's straight ahead. I pass the garages, take a right turn in front of Macy's and, damn! I see the pink sign in rear view mirror. I went the wrong way. 

I hang a right. Then another into the parking garage and fly into the first parking spot I see. She's right behind me. 4:55 ... 4:56 ... we might make it!

"We have to run!" I shout over my shoulder at her as I head toward the stairway. She's right behind me. Down the parking garage stairs, across the street, I hit the sidewalk and see the storefront. 

In my head I know it's 4:57 ... 4:58. 

Now I'm running, thankful I wore shoes that allow me to jog. I feel a bit conspicuous. Who runs down the sidwalk in street clothes, looking as desperate as this? 

But there it is. I'm closing in. I think we're going to make it! Finally! Hand on door! Success! I throw it open and ...

There's people in line in front of me and only six cupcake flavors left. There are two chocolate with white frosting and mini chocolate chips and I want them both. It's all I can do to not push the lovely little girls with their fancy Madison mommies aside to get at them. 

But I wait. When it's my turn, the cupcake I want is still there. I get a some as a Get Well for my recuperating neighbor. She gets one for each daughter and an extra for a birthday surprise for on of their friends tomorrow. The counter lady packs them all up and we head outside, collapsing in a heap on the lovely little hot pink bistro sets. 

And we split that bad boy chocolate one. Victory really is sweet.

White Midnight Magic

What could be better? A cupcake with my sister, talking about whatever comes up ... and we actually got a mini workout in getting there.

Thank you, Gigi's.

Hope you had a great weekend, too. 

30 Miles Round Trip

So, my "what would it be like to bike to work?" experiment is over. And I think it was successful. Here's a quick recap of the highs and lows.

1. It was cold and drizzly when I left home, wearing long pants under padded shorts and a sleeveless running top with a long-sleeve neon yellow topper. And fingerless gloves. I should have worn something more wind/water resistant and full-finger gloves. 

I'm also wearing a neon green Bondi Band with
skulls on it. Doesn't the proportion of it, covering
my forehead, make it look like my helmet is just
sitting on top of my head? Can you say total dork? 

2. I learned I can't farmer blow. I made the mistake of not tucking a Kleenex into a pocket and had no choice but to literally blow my nose in my sleeve. Not attractive. But when you're all wet and cold anyway, a little snot doesn't seem like such a big thing.

3. Marlon Perkins has nothing on me. I was swooped by red tail hawk. I saw a super studly Tom turkey trying desperately to catch the eyes of three hens. I almost clipped a gopher. And, man, are there a bunch of rabbits on the loose.

4. Hauling a backpack is a different deal. Even that little bit of extra weight is noticeable.

5. Paying attention to traffic lights took some getting used to. I always ride in the country and never have to worry about this.

6. I felt like a dork getting into the elevator wearing my bike helmet (can't take it off when you're all sweaty and nasty!) with three other people who were dressed for work.

7. I poked around in the cabinets in the locker room and "borrowed" someone's blow dryer. I feel a bit guilty about this.

8. The ride home was infinitely nicer with a little sunshine.

9. It took me about an hour each way. My drive easily takes me 15-20 minutes, so this doesn't really add that much time to my day.

10. When I map it, I put in just under 30 miles. Enough to earn a trip to Cherry Berry tonight after dinner! 

I think I'm going to try to do this once a week, weather and schedule permitting. It's kind of a nice way to start the day. I think I can keep a small bag of beauty products in my office, perhaps even a curling iron, to make it less obvious that it's "ride your bike to work" day. 

No Laughing at My Hair Tomorrow

I've decided to ride my bike to work tomorrow.

It's just shy of 13 miles and I have to cross over I-90 or go through town and hit some big hills. Either way, I'm going to get sweaty.

The good news is there are showers at work. The bad news is I don't think I have room in my smallish backpack for a change of clothes, towel, shampoo, comb, brush, hair dryer, mousse, hairspray, curling iron, mascara and blush.

So I might forgo the hair dryer, curling iron and hair care products. And pack a headband.

Which means my already sort of limp and lifeless hair is going to look dramatically more so. (Yes, there's 30 minutes worth of work, equipment and product to get it to THAT level of flat!)

As people who may see me tomorrow, you have two options:

1. Pretend you don't notice and we go about business as usual, or

2. I wear the bike helmet for the rest of the day.

Either way, play along?

Right in the Rain

I slept in again this morning. Then half heartedly got up, went downstairs and lifted exactly two weights. And I watched the morning news. Did 100 butt lifts and my hip routine. It all took 20 minutes and it wasn't remotely a workout.

"I'll lift at noon at work," I reasoned.

I didn't.

Which meant I needed to take a bike ride when I got home. It was overcast and threatening rain. But I knew I had to go. My husband, bless his heart, just nodded and said, "Go," when I walked in the back door with "that look" on my face and declared that a ride was needed.

"It means supper is delayed by one hour," I said, sort of hoping his stomach would loudly gurgle and I'd have an excuse to not go.

"See you in a while," was all he said. (I love him, even when I hate him.)

So I rode. A half mile from my house it started to sprinkle. And it picked up steam for the remaining 12 or so miles, though it never actually rained.

It's the first time I've ever ridden in the rain.

I didn't melt.

It was the right thing to do. Funny how you never regret working out, but you almost always regret NOT working out.

Nooner

For the past two days, I've been cramming in a nooner.

A noon walk, that is.

And why not? The weather has been perfect, my schedule has been accommodating and my snoozy-sleep-in-lazy-morning-ass has been ignoring the alarm. Plus, a new city ordinance required my company, and those in the neighborhood, to install sidewalks along our street, so there's no excuse to not take advantage.

I take 45 minutes, go about 3 miles and it feels good. My hair doesn't look so good when I'm done, but, meh. I don't sweat enough to require a shower and a total make-up redo, so life goes on.

As I was out there today, I was reminded of a woman I met a long time ago. Her name was Lisa and she was the marketing department for one of our suppliers. We had taken a trip to visit her company's headquarters in Nashville and I think I remember only three things about it. 1. The manufacturing floor was clearly not up to OSHA standards, or so it appeared to my young eyes. 2. I had to share a hotel room with a woman I didn't know from a different department. And, 3. Lisa had a treadmill IN HER OFFICE and held meetings outside, while walking.

At the time, I thought it was extremely odd. And completely vain. I mean, come on ... who "demands" that the company replace an in-office conference table with a personal treadmill and who is so self-centered that they spend work time exercising?

Now, I need you to picture Lisa. In my mind's eye, she's 5'4", 115 lbs., brown curly hair that's sort of unruly in its chin-length bob. She's got a smattering of freckles and looks like the girl in high school that ran cross country, was best pals with the star quarterback and had older brothers, so she knew how to throw a ball like a boy. You knew she was a runner by looking at her.

I remember her saying that as a mom of young kids and a very busy executive, she didn't have time to go to the gym because there just wasn't enough hours in the day. So she decided to combine some of those activities. There was a benefit, too. Meetings that required people to walk with her through the parking lot on a warm summer day had a tendency to finish ahead of schedule.

She insisted she could read reports while hoofing it on the treadmill and that she was able to concentrate more and/or think more clearly while her feet were moving.

At the time, I thought she was odd. And I really thought the act about caring so much about yourself was incredibly narcissistic.

My opinion has changed. I thought about it today, walking up and down the street in front of my building. She had her priorities right ... she was finding a way to take care of herself so she could be a great mom and a great boss.

I'm not sure why it took 23 years for a walk at noon to occur to me. But I'm glad it did.

Join me?

Two CCs are Better Than One?

Some of you know, but some might not.

I have added a new way to access Carsick Caravan.

https://www.facebook.com/CarsickCaravan?ref=hl

That's right ... we're on Facebook.



On the days I post, I put a short blurb on FB to let you know there's something new to check out. On the days I don't write an actual post, I might offer a quick update or attempt a brief, witty commentary on the FB page itself.

So if you want to be in the know, go to the page and "Like" it. Then I'll show up in your newsfeed.

And if it doesn't sound too strange, I'd love for you to share the page, too. I'm a few "Likes" away from being able to track visits and fun stuff like that. Better yet, if you know someone that might like to hang out with us and make the schlep through this whole getting healthy thing together, by all means, tell them to "Like" it too! I'd love the company.

Southwestern Summer Salad

Mission: Bring "something healthy" to a graduation party.

Considerations: It's hot ... so no dairy or mayo. There's cake ... so keep it heavy on the veg. NO CHIPS ... so it can't be a dip or salsa. Many people, lots of age groups ... so make it sort of middle of the road flavor-wise. Nothing too bizarre.

And it would be nice if it would translate to a "Supper Salad" with the addition of meat for Jim.

I started with this recipe from AllRecipes.com: http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Zesty-Quinoa-Salad/Detail.aspx

I doctored it up by adding corn, avocado, red pepper chunks, and black olives. To the dressing, I added my beloved Tajin, diced garlic, cilantro from a tube and some Mrs. Dash Chipotle seasoning, while cutting the olive oil a bit.

It's got a little zing. And since quinoa is a whole grain and the black beans add protien and the olives, olive oil and avocado add healthy fat, I think it's pretty well rounded. I could add diced chicken and call it a meal.

We'll see if I come home with an empty bowl or a full one.

UPDATE: Didn't come home with a bowl at all, as we left before the shindig was over. But I think it went over pretty well! I'll be honest and tell you that the delicious taco salad with ground beef, Nacho Cheese Doritos, French dressing and cheese was gone first ... because it was delicious! Ha!

(PHOTO from AllRecipes.com)