I do a pretty good job of eating a wide variety of things, getting essential vitamins and minerals from different sources. But there are a few items that I could not live without and I can eat daily, in copious amounts.
Hummus is one of them.
I like to make hummus whenever I get the chance, but am a sucker for some good store-bought as well.
Last night, I was going to make some hummus. As I was getting the ingredients out of my fridge, I remembered I had some leftover edamame...
EDAMAME HUMMUS!
Ingredients:
-About 2 cups of shelled edamame
-Sriracha
-Lemon juice
-Sesame oil
-Garlic
-Tahini
-Olive oil
Something I am very guilty of when I cook is just "throwing things together." I don't really measure. I am the queen of "keep adding more of this and that until it tastes yummy."
Well, this turned out REALLY yummy. A very nice, healthy twist on an essential item in my diet! That is the final product there in the picture. My food processor is a hand-me-down, probably older than me, so it did not get very smooth, but it still tasted great!
I had no idea there was a camera guy at the finish line.
I had no idea he would be able to perfectly capture that feeling of "Dear Lord, I think I may actually die."
I had no idea I could look that amazingly awful.
Saturday was my first race since the Marathon back in December, and I was really excited to get back in the game!
Me, Maureen, and Eszter before the race! This was Eszter's 1st 5k, and 1st race in the US!
As I mentioned before, this was my first RACE REMATCH. Let's go ahead and spoil the ending right away so those of you that don't want the boring details can move on with your lives:
Time: 54:31
Pace: 8:47
This is 27 seconds faster than my time last year, increasing from an 8:52 pace to an 8:47 pace.
Fantastic that I improved, definitely! And I am very, very proud of this! Buuuuuut... not the time I was shooting for. I was really hoping to finish in 50 minutes, about an 8:30 pace. Honestly, I should have known better than to set such a lofty goal. Oh well, lesson learned. And at the end of the day, while I did not reach my goal, it is still a PR for me, and that's SERIOUSLY AWESOME.
I was feeling a little bit off as the race began- my head was in a very weird place, I don't really know how to describe it. I tried to clear my mind and enjoy the race, but I was so focused on doing well that it kinda took over.
I wore my Garmin, but didn't look at it until I reached the 5k mark. (I have a tendency to obsess!) I was at 26 minutes at the 5k mark, which was awesome. But once that dam broke and I saw my potential, my mind went all spastic and I became this obsessed freak looking at the watch every 30 seconds, constantly analyzing my projected finish time. The 2nd half of the race, I was so mentally gone. Too much pressure. Really coulda used a chill pill.
Nonetheless, crossed the finish time looking like the wonderful spaz you all know and love:
This one makes me laugh. I look like a complete fool.
Another race under my belt, another medal on my wall, and another unforgettable experience!
If you have ever had the pleasure of watching me run, you will immediately notice 3 things:
1) I run like a T-Rex
2) I make ugly, animated, ridiculous faces
3) I wear black capri tights on EVERY. SINGLE. RUN.
(You're welcome for 3 lovely crotch shots there.)
FACT: I have thunder thighs. ITS OK THOUGH, I am fine with it, really! I know they are very muscular and whatnot. So it's really ok. Nonetheless, I like to wear capri tights to avoid anything riding up in my crotch, chafing, and wiggly legs. What are wiggly legs? Do me a favor- go put on a pair of shorts, jog around the room, and look down at your thighs. THAT is wiggly legs. And I don't like seeing it. So, capri tights are a staple in my running wardrobe.
Last fall, a friend of a friend that works for Nike got a ton of free stuff and let me dive in face first and take whatever I wanted. I got so much swag, it was unbelievable. Like, $1000 worth of stuff FO FREEEE! Killer.
With this mother load of free stuff, I got 2 pairs of Nike running shorts. I grabbed them mostly because they look cool, not because I really ever had intentions of wearing them while running. I wear them when I lay around the house, feeling all cool in my fancy running shorts as I sit on the couch and binge on an entire jar of peanut butter. True story.
Well this past week, mother nature didn't get the memo that it is FEBRUARY and sent some 70 degree weather to Memphis. I was tempted to go on a bazillion mile long run to make the most of the glorious weather, but knew I had to stick to my training schedule- espeically with the 10k coming up tomorrow. So I figured I would let myself go for a short 2 mile run, and to ensure that it would remain a short run, I would wear....
drum roll...
RUNNING SHORTS!
(Aaaaand cue LMFAO's song SEXY AND I KNOW IT.)
I felt awkward. I felt exposed. I felt windy. I felt wiggly. But what I did not feel was the dreaded chafing. The material is fantstic and didnt rub at all. A little riding up, which caused this awesome little FUPA effect. What's a FUPA? Google it. But other than that, a rather pleasant experience! I was happily surprised!
I don't see myself giving up my capri tights any time soon, but I am happy to know that I can do something other than lounge in my running shorts.
So it has been just a little over a year since I started running. Time flies when you're... running... for hours.... every... single... day...
Anyway, this weekend will be my first experience with re-running a race. Up until this point, every race has been a new challenge, new location, new scenery, and most have been an immediate PR for that distance. This will be the first time I will be face with a true shot at improvement.
I ran the Move it Memphis 10k last year and it was UH-MAZE-ING. I kicked ass. I ran so fast, finishing in 54 minutes, which is a 9 minute pace. Cheay. I felt like a bazillion bucks. I didn't hurt. I didn't struggle. I was like a little track star. You would have never guessed I was a complete novice to this experience.
So here it is. 1 year later. You would think that I would be in super awesome killer shape and 100% ready to tackle this race once again and blast my previous time out of the water. Ehhhhhh notsomuch. Due to my... "hiatus" during the months of November and December, and my less-than-epic return to training in January, let's just say I am not where I had hoped I would be at this point in my running career.
I can't help but set the bar high for this race and have certain expectations. However, those expectations may be somewhat unrealistic. And that is hard to face. There is a very good chance that I will not do as well as I did last year. Which sucks. A lot. This aspect of running is very new to me, and something I really did not anticipate. While I am totally excited for this race, I am also worried I may not live up to my own expectations. Sad face.
How do you handle race rematches? What do you do to cope with the pressures of gaining a PR?
I have never really had any major knee trouble. A few aches and pains for a day or two after a long run, a little bit of trouble with my left IT band last year, but nothing too earth-shattering. The good ole ankles hold that reputation.
During the past month of training, my knees have started feeling like the younger, neglected children in the family and are starting to rebel as their means of gaining attention away from their siblings, the ankles. My lower body is like a household with 2 young children that are constantly fighting. I am 10 minutes away from sending them to their rooms to cool off and grounding them for a month without TV or dessert.
Unfortunately, I feel I am to blame for my recent knee rebellion. I have kept my long runs to 10 miles for the past 5 weeks, which really is not a big deal for this bad ass. HOWEVER, the last time I had a good 10 mile base, I was a solid 10-15 lbs lighter. And on my little frame, that makes a HUGE difference to my joints. And I am certain that is why I look like I need a walker and take 20 minutes to get down 1 flight of stairs.
While I look at weight loss as a purely appearance-based, my knees are literally screaming to remind me that staying in a healthy weight range is so much more than looking cute in a bikini. It is essential that I keep my weight in check and avoid my knees from throwing a full-out tantrum. I have really struggled over the past 2 months with shedding these pesky pounds I gained while injured. I am hoping that, with the motivation of shutting my knees up, I will be able to really focus and get with the program. I still eat very healthy, just in copious amounts. Whoops.
So, knees, I mean it- I am sorry. Please, I beg of you, be kind to me, and I promise I will lose weight. The words of Bikram ring in my ears with every painful step I take:
You can mess with the gods, but you can't mess with your knees!
I love writing. And I love running (most of the time). And I enjoy the interaction and social "life" that comes along with blogging. I have been reading a lot of running blogs over the past few months (I got really addicted back in November when I was injured... it's like I got my running fix by reading and living vicariously through others- complete strangers, to be exact.) and have learned a lot about what makes a blog AMAZING vs CRAPPY. A few little tid-bits I picked up...
AMAZING BLOGS:
-Happy, funny, optimistic, and entertaining- yet realistic
-Share experiences from a personal point of view
-Inspirational
-Offer information you can actually use or relate to
-Relatively short posts, as to please the ADHD child in all of us
-Pictures
-Lists
CRAPPY BLOGS:
-Pessimistic ranting, leaving you feeling like you are the scum of the earth
-Poor fonts and graphics
-Boring
-Rambling on... and on... and on...
-947 posts a day
Also, I noticed a lot of overlap in the types of posts on popular sites:
-Progress updates
-Recipes
-Product reviews
-Race recaps
-Questions for the audience
SO, after doing enough research to write an A+ 5th grade book report on "Running Blogs In The USA by Amy Mary", I think I know what it takes to be a super awesome popular amazing running blogger. Get excited, because some day a stranger will come up to you and be like OMG YOU KNOW AMY?! SHE'S SO FAMOUS! And you will be all like, yea whatevs, brush your shoulder off, proud to be an acquaintance of mine. Mark my words... stop laughing...
NOW I NEED YOUR HELP! While I can read, research, and copy learn from other bloggers, ultimately, I WANT TO PLEASE YOU, my captive audience of, what 5 people? Awesome. Gotta start somewhere, right? So, please, tell me: What do you like reading about? What keeps you coming back for more? What would you like to hear more/less about? Share your ideas with me as a comment, email, or smoke signal.
But seriously, whoever said this quote... I would like to punch them.
When googling to see what jerk originally said that quote, I stumbled upon this gem, which sums up this entire post pretty well and saves you from having to listen to me bitch and moan:
I will give you 3 guesses why I am all angry-bird-like today...
If you guessed that I got in a gang fight in South Memphis and have painful battle wounds, you are incorrect.
ANKLES! ANKLES! ANKLES!
Yea, I know, I thought we were past that old story, too. I am just as tired of writing about it as you are reading about it. Too bad my long run on Sunday brought me right back to square one.
It is frustrating because I feel like I am doing a really good job of taking care of my "dysfunctional posterior tibial tendons". I shower them with love and affection. I ice them, stretch them, buy them expensive shoe inserts that support them, and wear ugly tape all over my feet and legs to protect them. And what do I get in return?! PAIN.
Enough, ankles. In the words of Uncle Joey:
This pain... IT AIN'T TEMPORARY, yo. How can I even experience the pride associated with reaching my goals if I can't even walk?!
I did some more research into treatments for PTTD. I am doing all of them, except 2 things:
1) Complete immobilization for 6-8 weeks. I'm talking full-on cast.
2) Surgery.
Just a few observations I have had over the past few days...
1) You know it is time for an eating-intervention when you are running, turn off your music for a bit, and are immediately frightened by what sounds like someone running at your exact same pace behind you... only to realize it is the sound of your thighs rubbing together.
2) Going to a gym at a university is one thing. Going to a gym at a medical school is another. Surrounded by 50 Todd's from Scrubs. Awful. Just awful.
MY GOD could this be any more drawn out?! It isn't even interesting to you anymore, is it? You probably forgot I even exist. It's ok. I understand. And I take full blame. Forgive me?
Dig back down in your memory. I ran a marathon.
I left off at mile 20 as I prayed for death. Salty face Amy, somehow managing to still be in motion. I kid you not when I say the last 6 miles were both a complete dream-like blur, and the most vivid and memorable steps of my life.
Eszter ran with me for a few minutes around mile 21. The distraction was nice, but I literally couldn't focus on making sentences at that point. So, Eszter, sorry if my conversation consisted of me saying things like, "Chicken crossing popsicle with the umbrella goes bulldozer, right?!" I had to conserve my energy, and cognitive abilities were the first to go.
Kevin sent me a text around mile 22: "Everyday I'm shuffling." Thanks, Kev. Real funny. But seriously, my feet weren't even really leaving the ground at that point. I looked like a broken old man. I am sure I gained the pity of the few remaining spectators that sat along the road, bored and complete out of pep.
There was this older man, probably in his late 50's, that I kept playing leapfrog with. He had on elvis sunglasses and was about 8 foot 9 inches tall. We were next to each other at one point, me taking 8 steps with my little midget legs for ever 1 of his gargantuan giant leg steps, and an ice cream truck slooooowlllyyyy droooovveeee byyyyy. Mocking us. Pointing and laughing. Salt in our already salty wounds. We just looked at one another, scowled, and started yelling profanities at the truck driver.
Mile 23 may have been the first time I actually SERIOUSLY thought about quitting. YEA, I KNOW, "ONLY A 5K LEFT!" Shut up about your effing 5k. After the epic battle I had been fighting in for the past 5 hours, every single step was nothing less than a sheer miracle. I thought to myself, "Now is the time. Now. Shower myself with the emotions. Remind myself of WHY I am doing this. Pull out that envelope I tucked away, open it up, and bask in the emotion. Let it carry me to the finish line!" I tried. I really did. I wanted so badly to remind myself of WHY I was doing this and to let emotion carry me. But honestly, I couldn't. I just couldn't. The ONLY thing that was in my mind was, over and over and over and over again, "One. More. Step." I was so exhausted at this point, even emotion was too much. In retrospect, that upsets me. I wanted to be able to feel that pride and that emotion and let it be my wings those last few miles.
Instead, Yamaha came on my iPod.
This is the most ridiculous song in the entire world. Hands down. But, thanks to my lovely boyfriend, it ended up on my "I'm running a marathon" playlist. A few weeks before the race, I was stealing some of his music to add to my playlist. I jokingly asked if I should add this ridiculous song, to which he replied, "If you wanna kick ass, you will." Done. And would you believe, he was right? The second I heard that synthesizer, I couldn't help but smile. OK maybe it wasn't the emotional shower I was hoping for, but it was surely the boost I needed to remind myself that I would make it and wouldn't end up as roadkill.
I could tell everyone around me was really feeling it at this point. Around mile 25, the comradery really started to show. We were all in it together at that point. One woman started walking next to me. I looked her square in the eyes and screamed, "WE HAVE ON THE SAME SHOES! OUR SHOES MATCH! NOW RUN! YOU CAN DO THIS! RUN!" She laughed, started running, and yelled back,"BROOKS GHOST 4 POWER! RUN!" Strangers instantly become bonded.
Mile 26 is evil because it is straight up an exit ramp. I want to stab whoever threw that kicker in. I am not joking.
I will admit that the last .2 miles were a complete blur. I know I managed to pick up my pace and actually lift my feet off the ground. I know I screamed a lot. I know the sense of pride that was beginning to shake my entire body and soul was uncanny. I remember seeing Paige and Ashley. I remember my body being so completely numb I could have been shot with a muzzle-loader and not have felt it. I remember seeing Maureen and Kevin, and the first wave of tears coming. I remember hugging a few strangers. But most of all...
I remember seeing the finish line, crossing the finish line, and knowing that I did it.
Thank you, Ashley, for capturing this miracle!
The moments immediately following the race are also kinda blurry- lots of pictures, laughing, praise, high-fives, texting, etc. I somehow got some food (and beer, of course) in my system, somehow got home, and somehow got into an ice bath. It was then, there, about an hour after the race, sitting in a tub of sub-arctic temperature water, that the emotions hit. I started sobbing like a child. Despite all the bullsh*t I faced along the way, I did it. I didn't hold back, I let the wave of emotion I was earlier craving wash over me, and I basked in its warmth (which was very welcome considering I WAS IN AN ICE BATH!).
A fellow runner sent this in an email. It couldn't be more true:
Because we can.
Because we have something to prove.
Because we don't want regrets.
Because we are able.
Because we want to kill the doubt.
Because we have a goal.
Because of the voice within.
Because we can handle more than we think.
Because it's never too late.
Because we want to run farther.
Because we want to run faster.
Because we won't give up.
Because it's better to give than to receive.
Because we have strength to endure.
Because we believe in miracles.
Because we have faith.
Because I'M A RUNNER.
My final breakdown is quite pathetic, but whatever. I was upset for a little while that it took me that long, but all things considered, I shouldn't have even run the damn race, so I gotta let it go.
Aaaaand cue mushy, deep, emotional reflection time:
Looking back, the whole experience seems completely surreal.
Sometimes it seems so insignificant, like it was no big deal.
But sometimes, I close my eyes and remember the feelings I felt as I crossed the finish line, and I can't help but smile.
1 year ago, I was in such a different place in my life. I have accomplished so much, both physically and mentally, through this challenge. I am a different person.
It was worth every tear, ache, pain, early morning, painful step, and hours spent exploring the streets of Memphis by foot.
To those who shared this experience with me, and those of you that donated to St Jude and helped me become a true HERO: there are no words. I thank each of you from the bottom of my heart. Each of you were there with me the entire way.
This experience changed me, and I am forever grateful.
I wore the shirt I got from the race today. We went out to breakfast. I was in the bathroom, and the woman next to me at the sink says, "Did you really run a marathon?!" She proceeds to go on and on about how amazing that is, what an accomplishment it is, and how proud of me she is- she even gave me a hug. Thank you, random stranger, for reminding me of how monumental those 5.5 hours of running and 12 months of training really were.
Ok ok ok ok FINE, enough of that emotional junk. It slips out from time to time, I am SORRY. Jeez. Tough crowd.
