This was the comment I got from both kids last night when I told them what we were having for dinner.
WHAT? Are you serious? How can you hate risotto? What's in it to hate?
Fine. You want to hate my risotto? I'll give you a reason to hate it...
Both kiddos truly despise squash of any variety. Gagging typically ensues when I try to get them to eat it. So what did I do? Added butternut squash to my regular risotto.
It. Was. Fantastic. And they apparently didn't realize it had squash in it, because they both ate it. Granted, the result if they didn't eat it was no dessert - but they ate an entire bowl of it, and no one threatened to gag. That, my friends, is a success.
And I didn't even have to peel the thing, either, which is my main reason for rarely cooking with squash. This time, I nuked it for about 15 minutes (cut in half, flat side down in a bit of water), scooped out the innards and stirred the mush into the risotto near the end. I'm pretty sure it made the risotto a lot healthier, as I didn't use anywhere nearly as much cheese as I usually do. And even better? There are leftovers for lunch today...yummy... Lunch may come early today.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Tripping
This, or something close to this, will be happening this summer. Already excited...
Most of my ancestors came from Ireland (gee, didn't see that coming with the red hair, did ya?). I've got a lot of research to do between now and then, but the wheels are in motion. Woo hoo!!!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Guitars and Honkey Tonks... OK, Not Really. But Guitars, Anyway.
A lifetime ago, in the time BC (before children), I bought a guitar. I think I was unemployed when I bought it - the only three months in the last nine years that I've been in that state, and that was 100% by choice. I've been very lucky.
I was in the middle of taking some time off, though, and for some reason, I got the itch to play the guitar. I did a lot of research, spent a considerable amount of time visiting different stores and trying out different guitars, and finally settled on one that I liked. I was a little concerned about finding one that worked, mainly because my hands match the rest of me - below average in size, so I took my time and did a lot of research. (If you know me at all, you know that is NOT how I approach most purchases.)
So I bought it in the spring of 2004. I started tinkering around with it some, not really sure what I was doing, but enjoying the idea of learning to play maybe more than actually playing - my fingers hurt! And a few months later I started a new job, we moved to a new house, and figured out I was pregnant with our first. And that was just one week. And not too long after, the guitar did not fit in my lap worth a damn, and I assumed it would be many years before I would probably attempt it again.
And it was. It sat next to the piano in both our old house in Houston and again in the house here in Maumelle. Occasionally my brother-in-law would take it out and tune it, but other than that, it sat.
It started catching my eye a bit more after a recent conversation with my brother-in-law. It might have been New Years Eve, I'm not sure; I have the feeling that there was whiskey involved in the conversation but I could be wrong. It's a good guess, though... He made the comment that all it would take to be able to play reasonably well was 15 minutes a day for about three months.
15 minutes a day. Hell, I should be able to make that work. With all the screwing around I do, it might be nice to actually have something to show for that time. It's a nice guitar, in fantastic shape, my lap can once again accommodate a guitar, and I have 15 minutes at night now if I plan correctly.
I started working on it again sometime in January. Consistent with my less dogmatic approach to life these days, I didn't even try to play every night. But I did try to play every other night if at all possible. And only until my fingers hurt so badly that I had to stop. Which, contrary to what one of my friends told me, did not involve actual blood on my fingers. Thank God. So that meant I played 2 minutes the first night, 3 minutes the second, and 5 minutes the third.
Somewhere towards the end of the second week, though, I played long enough one night that my hand got tired before my fingers made me quit. Now that was progress.
So I gave it a few more weeks, eeking out some information from the interwebs on chords and how to play, and seeing if I thought it was going to "stick" this time around. I bought a couple of books, pelted a friend with some (ok, a LOT of) questions and have been playing pretty consistently, looking up tabs on the internet and fumbling around a bit less obnoxiously than I was at first.
I'm sure my technique sucks, and my transitions and many chords are still mushy (some chords still unplayable). But some of my songs are actually recognizable, so it's not all bad. And I'm starting to get the hang of some transitions and may even embark on strumming techniques soon... Again, progress.
I played the piano in a former life. Sometimes an hour's worth of playing was incredibly soothing to the mind - sort of like a long run. I'm hoping that eventually I get that way with the guitar; where the music is largely muscle memory, I don't have to think quite so much about it, and I can just let my mind roam while my fingers play. Or, I can challenge myself when I feel like learning something new.
I forgot how much fun it is to learn something new; seeing progress from week to week is incredibly satisfying. Here's to hoping I don't lose interest this time around... And maybe, if I'm really lucky, one of the kiddos will enjoy the music and get interested in it. And for the love of God, please let it be the piano or the guitar. And not the drums.
I was in the middle of taking some time off, though, and for some reason, I got the itch to play the guitar. I did a lot of research, spent a considerable amount of time visiting different stores and trying out different guitars, and finally settled on one that I liked. I was a little concerned about finding one that worked, mainly because my hands match the rest of me - below average in size, so I took my time and did a lot of research. (If you know me at all, you know that is NOT how I approach most purchases.)
So I bought it in the spring of 2004. I started tinkering around with it some, not really sure what I was doing, but enjoying the idea of learning to play maybe more than actually playing - my fingers hurt! And a few months later I started a new job, we moved to a new house, and figured out I was pregnant with our first. And that was just one week. And not too long after, the guitar did not fit in my lap worth a damn, and I assumed it would be many years before I would probably attempt it again.
And it was. It sat next to the piano in both our old house in Houston and again in the house here in Maumelle. Occasionally my brother-in-law would take it out and tune it, but other than that, it sat.
It started catching my eye a bit more after a recent conversation with my brother-in-law. It might have been New Years Eve, I'm not sure; I have the feeling that there was whiskey involved in the conversation but I could be wrong. It's a good guess, though... He made the comment that all it would take to be able to play reasonably well was 15 minutes a day for about three months.
15 minutes a day. Hell, I should be able to make that work. With all the screwing around I do, it might be nice to actually have something to show for that time. It's a nice guitar, in fantastic shape, my lap can once again accommodate a guitar, and I have 15 minutes at night now if I plan correctly.
I started working on it again sometime in January. Consistent with my less dogmatic approach to life these days, I didn't even try to play every night. But I did try to play every other night if at all possible. And only until my fingers hurt so badly that I had to stop. Which, contrary to what one of my friends told me, did not involve actual blood on my fingers. Thank God. So that meant I played 2 minutes the first night, 3 minutes the second, and 5 minutes the third.
Somewhere towards the end of the second week, though, I played long enough one night that my hand got tired before my fingers made me quit. Now that was progress.
So I gave it a few more weeks, eeking out some information from the interwebs on chords and how to play, and seeing if I thought it was going to "stick" this time around. I bought a couple of books, pelted a friend with some (ok, a LOT of) questions and have been playing pretty consistently, looking up tabs on the internet and fumbling around a bit less obnoxiously than I was at first.
I'm sure my technique sucks, and my transitions and many chords are still mushy (some chords still unplayable). But some of my songs are actually recognizable, so it's not all bad. And I'm starting to get the hang of some transitions and may even embark on strumming techniques soon... Again, progress.
I played the piano in a former life. Sometimes an hour's worth of playing was incredibly soothing to the mind - sort of like a long run. I'm hoping that eventually I get that way with the guitar; where the music is largely muscle memory, I don't have to think quite so much about it, and I can just let my mind roam while my fingers play. Or, I can challenge myself when I feel like learning something new.
I forgot how much fun it is to learn something new; seeing progress from week to week is incredibly satisfying. Here's to hoping I don't lose interest this time around... And maybe, if I'm really lucky, one of the kiddos will enjoy the music and get interested in it. And for the love of God, please let it be the piano or the guitar. And not the drums.
Monday, March 7, 2011
OUCH
My crystal ball was right - I hurt like hell this morning. I haven't had as much trouble putting on shoes and socks since I was 9 months pregnant. It might've even been easier then...
I had to lift my legs into the car with my hands this morning, because the legs? They are just in the rebellious stage and for some reason think that the 13 miles yesterday means they should be taking today off. Go figure. I guess I should be happy that my car is low to the ground...
So. I may try a short run tomorrow to shake out some of the lactic acid from my legs. Assuming, of course, they don't fall completely off today. Did I mention that they hurt? A lot? Yeah.
Ouch.
But totally worth it.
I had to lift my legs into the car with my hands this morning, because the legs? They are just in the rebellious stage and for some reason think that the 13 miles yesterday means they should be taking today off. Go figure. I guess I should be happy that my car is low to the ground...
So. I may try a short run tomorrow to shake out some of the lactic acid from my legs. Assuming, of course, they don't fall completely off today. Did I mention that they hurt? A lot? Yeah.
Ouch.
But totally worth it.
Sunday, March 6, 2011
LR Half Marathon 2011: Race Report
Alternate Title: Masochism in the Cold
OK, so it wasn't that bad. It was above freezing, right? (37 degrees at start time...). The short: around 2:06, or a 9:40 pace. The long: see below. Really, this is so I'll remember it more than anything else.
J and I layered up and hit the course this morning about 7:45; the race started at 8:00. That's one of the best things about races in cities you know - the logistics are incredibly easy. Running one in your town is also a plus, because the bed you are dragging your ass out of at 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning is your own.
Over the last few days, I've been trying to figure out how to run this one. I'm certainly in no danger of being overtrained, but I'm not in bad shape. I've done some decent running lately, and my speed has gotten better. Plus, a good friend PR'd a half yesterday (PR = personal record) in under 2 hours. Now, that is literally a dream time for me, but what was wrong with giving this one a full out effort?
I've run two previous half marathons: the first one I just sort of enjoyed the experience (Las Vegas Rock 'n Roll, 2:11:10); the second one (LR last year, 2:29:29, 11:25 pace) I was injured and just happy to be running. This year I'm not injured (THANK GOD), and I've got some experience with half marathons, so why not run this one with a solid effort and leave everything on the course?
The first goal is always just to finish - this is never a guarantee, 13 miles is always a long way to run. I set my "wouldn't it be nice if" goal at about a 10:00 mile pace, which would get me about a 2:10:00 finish time. My dream goal was to get under 2 hours. Not bloody likely today, but it was something to shoot for.
I had one very helpful element with the run today: at the starting line, J (whose pace for a leisurely jog is my hard effort pace) decided to run with me instead of running his normal pace. Usually I'm far too slow for him, but maybe my rumblings about trying to run "faster" convinced him to run with me for a while to see if he could handle the slower pace. So he ran with me for nearly the entire race. I'm fairly certain I would never have gone out as fast as we did initially, which led to me keeping up a fast pace the entire race.
For the first few miles, I kept up a decent string of sub 10:00 miles, despite all the weaving we had to do to get around the slower runners / walkers. I began to think I could maybe meet my 2:10 goal, and perhaps even do better... There was a damn good chance that I'd end up running the first half of the race way too fast and blow up in the second half, but I'd never know if I didn't try, so I kept the pace up.
Mile 1: 10:05
Mile 2: 9:43
Mile 3: 9:40
Mile 4: 9:34
Mile 5: 9:48
Mile 6: 9:38
Somewhere around mile 6 I realized that I was definitely running sub 10 miles, and was still holding a decent pace without dying. This is always a good thing - dying on the course is generally not recommended. I walked through most of the drink stations, going with Gatorade when I could.
Miles 7-10 are a bit of a blur. I remember stopping for water, and I remember fumbling with my ipod to keep queuing up loud obnoxious songs to keep me moving. Every time I looked at my Garmin and it told me I was nearing a 10:00 pace, I sped up. I didn't have to do that very much, though; it was far more often that I saw a 9:XX pace rather than a 10:XX pace.
Mile 7: 9:31
Mile 8: 9:34
Mile 9: 9:18
Mile 10: 9:25
Somewhere in the middle of these miles, we made the big run uphill towards the state capitol. I hit a loud, obnoxious song, zoned out, kicked into another gear, and J started asking me if I was ok - I think he was concerned about having to carry me once my legs shut down. Because THAT was definitely going to happen at some point, it was just a matter of whether I'd be able to cross the finish line before the shut down occurred.
Miles 11-13 are where I'd have to say I quit having fun. Plain and simple, those miles hurt. And they should have - they were the fasted damn miles of the run. J was fantastic with lots of encouragement, but towards the end I really wanted to kill him. No offense, J, but you were KILLING me at the end with that pace.
Mile 11: 9:16
Mile 12: 9:17
Mile 13: 9:09
Last .3 tenths: 9:05 pace
So, the final result? My chip time was about 2:06, or a 9:40 average pace. That's not quite a 5 minute PR, but it's close, and a hell of a lot better than I expected from today.
I'm absolutely flabbergasted that I was able to hold that pace over 13 miles, and even sped up at the end. Don't get me wrong - I AM DONE, and I left everything out there on the course today. But that gives me hope for my "dream goal" of a sub 2 hour half. The Hogeye Half in Fayetteville is in a month, and I'm seriously considering giving that one a try. I don't really think I'll be able to shave 6 minutes off in a month (that's nearly 30 seconds a mile), but it might be a good way to keep my ass in training when I might otherwise get lazy.
Funny what a little success will do for you, right?
OK, so it wasn't that bad. It was above freezing, right? (37 degrees at start time...). The short: around 2:06, or a 9:40 pace. The long: see below. Really, this is so I'll remember it more than anything else.
J and I layered up and hit the course this morning about 7:45; the race started at 8:00. That's one of the best things about races in cities you know - the logistics are incredibly easy. Running one in your town is also a plus, because the bed you are dragging your ass out of at 6:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning is your own.
Over the last few days, I've been trying to figure out how to run this one. I'm certainly in no danger of being overtrained, but I'm not in bad shape. I've done some decent running lately, and my speed has gotten better. Plus, a good friend PR'd a half yesterday (PR = personal record) in under 2 hours. Now, that is literally a dream time for me, but what was wrong with giving this one a full out effort?
I've run two previous half marathons: the first one I just sort of enjoyed the experience (Las Vegas Rock 'n Roll, 2:11:10); the second one (LR last year, 2:29:29, 11:25 pace) I was injured and just happy to be running. This year I'm not injured (THANK GOD), and I've got some experience with half marathons, so why not run this one with a solid effort and leave everything on the course?
The first goal is always just to finish - this is never a guarantee, 13 miles is always a long way to run. I set my "wouldn't it be nice if" goal at about a 10:00 mile pace, which would get me about a 2:10:00 finish time. My dream goal was to get under 2 hours. Not bloody likely today, but it was something to shoot for.
I had one very helpful element with the run today: at the starting line, J (whose pace for a leisurely jog is my hard effort pace) decided to run with me instead of running his normal pace. Usually I'm far too slow for him, but maybe my rumblings about trying to run "faster" convinced him to run with me for a while to see if he could handle the slower pace. So he ran with me for nearly the entire race. I'm fairly certain I would never have gone out as fast as we did initially, which led to me keeping up a fast pace the entire race.
For the first few miles, I kept up a decent string of sub 10:00 miles, despite all the weaving we had to do to get around the slower runners / walkers. I began to think I could maybe meet my 2:10 goal, and perhaps even do better... There was a damn good chance that I'd end up running the first half of the race way too fast and blow up in the second half, but I'd never know if I didn't try, so I kept the pace up.
Mile 1: 10:05
Mile 2: 9:43
Mile 3: 9:40
Mile 4: 9:34
Mile 5: 9:48
Mile 6: 9:38
Somewhere around mile 6 I realized that I was definitely running sub 10 miles, and was still holding a decent pace without dying. This is always a good thing - dying on the course is generally not recommended. I walked through most of the drink stations, going with Gatorade when I could.
Miles 7-10 are a bit of a blur. I remember stopping for water, and I remember fumbling with my ipod to keep queuing up loud obnoxious songs to keep me moving. Every time I looked at my Garmin and it told me I was nearing a 10:00 pace, I sped up. I didn't have to do that very much, though; it was far more often that I saw a 9:XX pace rather than a 10:XX pace.
Mile 7: 9:31
Mile 8: 9:34
Mile 9: 9:18
Mile 10: 9:25
Somewhere in the middle of these miles, we made the big run uphill towards the state capitol. I hit a loud, obnoxious song, zoned out, kicked into another gear, and J started asking me if I was ok - I think he was concerned about having to carry me once my legs shut down. Because THAT was definitely going to happen at some point, it was just a matter of whether I'd be able to cross the finish line before the shut down occurred.
Miles 11-13 are where I'd have to say I quit having fun. Plain and simple, those miles hurt. And they should have - they were the fasted damn miles of the run. J was fantastic with lots of encouragement, but towards the end I really wanted to kill him. No offense, J, but you were KILLING me at the end with that pace.
Mile 11: 9:16
Mile 12: 9:17
Mile 13: 9:09
Last .3 tenths: 9:05 pace
So, the final result? My chip time was about 2:06, or a 9:40 average pace. That's not quite a 5 minute PR, but it's close, and a hell of a lot better than I expected from today.
I'm absolutely flabbergasted that I was able to hold that pace over 13 miles, and even sped up at the end. Don't get me wrong - I AM DONE, and I left everything out there on the course today. But that gives me hope for my "dream goal" of a sub 2 hour half. The Hogeye Half in Fayetteville is in a month, and I'm seriously considering giving that one a try. I don't really think I'll be able to shave 6 minutes off in a month (that's nearly 30 seconds a mile), but it might be a good way to keep my ass in training when I might otherwise get lazy.
Funny what a little success will do for you, right?
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Carbo Loading
Fish and chips, cheesecake, and a glass of wine could be considered carbo loading for tomorrow's half marathon, right? Sort of? A little?
Friday, March 4, 2011
Universal Truth
This morning, Alyssa observed one of the universal truths.
"Mommy, my alarm clock doesn't give me enough time to sleep."
Welcome to the world, kiddo.
"Mommy, my alarm clock doesn't give me enough time to sleep."
Welcome to the world, kiddo.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Faster
It's been several days since I've run, but I managed to get a three miler in last night. And it was fast compared to my usual snail's pace. I could tell that it had been a few days since I'd run; my legs were rested and ready to go. Over the entire three miles, my average pace was about a 9:30 minute mile. But mile #2 was actually an 8:50 pace. It has been a while since I've run that pace - and I managed to escape without soreness today. Woo hoo!
I'd like to say the reason I've not been running much the last few days is because I've been "tapering" for the half marathon - yeah, that's it, tapering! Alas, I've just been busy. Oh well. I may get in one more short run on Friday, some tennis on Saturday, and with any luck Sunday will bring good weather and a tail wind for the half. Or at worst, perhaps some beer at the finish line. You know, for the carbs and all...
I'd like to say the reason I've not been running much the last few days is because I've been "tapering" for the half marathon - yeah, that's it, tapering! Alas, I've just been busy. Oh well. I may get in one more short run on Friday, some tennis on Saturday, and with any luck Sunday will bring good weather and a tail wind for the half. Or at worst, perhaps some beer at the finish line. You know, for the carbs and all...
Fruitcakes
This song has been going through my head today. Specifically, the part where Buffett is talking about relationships:
"We all got 'em, We all want 'em, what do we do with them?"
For some reason that occurred to me about 10 minutes after I got sworn into the Arkansas bar this morning. Huh. I can legitimately speak legalese in Arkansas - now, what do I do with that?
"We all got 'em, We all want 'em, what do we do with them?"
For some reason that occurred to me about 10 minutes after I got sworn into the Arkansas bar this morning. Huh. I can legitimately speak legalese in Arkansas - now, what do I do with that?
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Goal Setting
Several weeks (months?) ago, a friend of mine told me about system he uses for goal setting. It has been so long since I've done any sort of organized goal setting - I think I gave it up around the time I gave up sending out Christmas cards. And for the record, I'm not talking about setting goals at work, I'm talking about personal goals.
I try to keep balance in my life now, and I probably overdo it in the "not doing enough" category sometimes - I could certainly become more active in the community, do some volunteering, and one of these days I will. I'm just very possessive of my time, but what good is that if you can't seem to accomplish the things you want to accomplish in your own house?
I usually have a to do list that encompasses what I hope to get done for any given day, and perhaps for the week if I've got something that absolutely has to get done. But as far as long terms plans and tackling big projects? I've been at loose ends for oh, say, the entire two years we've been back in LR. I end up getting paralyzed because as soon as I think of one largish project, about five other ones come to my mind that I feel like I "should" do before I tackle the one that sounds fun. And then? Nothing gets done.
So, back to the original sentence here. Goal setting. My friend uses a system that probably has a little more complexity than I want in my life right now, but the fact that he has one was intriguing to me. I've pushed back very hard against too much organization in my life, but at heart I still have a pretty strong Type A personality. I just try to ignore it as much as possible...
So I cobbled together a very basic excel spreadsheet at the beginning of the month to write down a few goals. This is a very rudimentary spreadsheet - just a couple of merged boxes and Sunday through Saturday columns; new worksheets for each week. My experience has been that the KISS principle works best here for me. I can get caught up trying to be too organized about being organized...and then the process breaks down, and you can imagine what happens next.
That first week I listed three weekly goals - an exercise goal, a guitar goal, and a writing goal.
There were also 4 monthly goals. Two monthly goals really just needed to get done (finalize my application to the Arkansas bar, and update ye olde resume). These have been hanging over my head for far too long.
The third monthly goal had a pretty high bar but was not a high priority (pertained to reading), and the fourth goal was pretty much a throwaway to see if I'd actually do anything with it. Sort of jokingly, I put down "tackle the dining room." I figured that this was the first stab at it, and we'd see whether any of this actually worked.
I updated the spreadsheet throughout the month, trying to take a little extra time at the beginning of each week to think about how I was doing, what needed to be changed, whether I wanted to add any new tasks, and thinking through how I was going to accomplish the things that remained for the month.
To be quite honest, I expected to create the spreadsheet, follow it for a week or two, and forget about it. But that didn't happen. I'm happy with how the weekly goals panned out, but the monthly goals was where I was most surprised. I've got a couple of loose ends to finalize here and there (I have an appointment with a judge to get sworn in on Thursday so I can legitimately talk lawyerese in Arkansas), but by and large? I'm pleasantly surprised.
Last week when I was looking at the last full week in February, I realized that if I really wanted to tackle the "throwaway goal," I could probably still do it. I managed to muster up a bit of motivation (nice alliteration, eh?), and with some preliminary help from my mom in prep and color choosing, here is the result:
Please ignore the Windex in the piano picture. On second thought - maybe you shouldn't. It's actual evidence that I cleaned. Don't expect it too often.
And can I say how very happy I am to no longer be working in a claustrophobic feeling tomb? Yes, there is a table in that room where I work. No, you don't get to see it. Far too messy, and I don't feel like clearing it off.
Now, what to tackle for March...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
