Saturday, February 20, 2010

For the past week I've been up at 4:30-ish a.m., eating a banana with peanut butter or pumpkin seeds (good for the prostate, Bob tells me...), or leftover smoothie from the night before, then walking a refreshing 20 minutes in the dark to the depot downtown.  I enjoy the relatively quiet walk, though the traffic isn't as dead as it used to be.  Olympians are early risers.

One of my postie friends brought me (and all the other gaylords, which covers most of the depot, so few were discriminated against) snacks of almond butter on muesli crackers most mornings, so on Friday I gave her an all-raw lime larabar (fruit and nut snack bar).  She looked pleased.  I found out later that she doesn't eat the crap that other people bring for snacks, so I felt good about my offering of pure and natural goodness. Like a virgin sacrifice.  No.

Menu for the week:

strawberry-cranberry-banana-spinach smoothies
veggie delite subs on honey oat (almost a daily ritual on my way home)
apple crisp
bananas and peanut butter
avocado on spelt pasta with tomato sauce
avocado with aged white cheddar on quinoa, cous cous and chickpeas with yellow/green/red/orange bell peppers

a few 'quality' chocolate bars
probably other foods I'm conveniently forgetting

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Monday, February 8, 2010

 
 
I had fun today.  I wore my sunglasses throughout the rainy morning and was rewarded with a sunny afternoon.  I'm sure the people I met in the morning still thought I was a weirdo.  Anyway, for the week I'm covering a walk that's owned by someone with ~ 30 years' seniority.  Jackpot on easy street for me...  I still came home physically exhausted.

I stopped at the Steamrollers on Robson Street on my walk back to the depot, weaving through hordes of smiling people.  I couldn't be upset though with the blue sky overhead, the sun shining in my eyes and my toes stepping on the heels of the people walking in front of me.  

My post-postie smoothie: frozen strawberries/blackberries/blueberries/raspberries with one ripe banana and a handful of spinach.


A nap and then a veggie sub from subway.  I meant to save half of it for breakfast tomorrow, but that didn't happen.  I'll have water for breakfast!  Mmmm.  Pure.  Bedtime.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

Today's short run on the sea wall kicked my ass.  It was the hardest run yet! Let me count the ways in which I rationalize this:

Yesterday: made spelt linguine with tomato sauce and spinach.  Ate it all.  Made apple crisp and ate it all.  Worked on courses (played with websites and chatted on msn) until 3am.



 
  
  
 

Today: made a banana-spinach-strawberry smoothie and ate half of a vegetarian pizza with avocado at 12pm.

And then we ran at 1pm.  I stopped twice (oh, the horror).  Came home, drank water, plus finished the remaining 1/4 cup of smoothie and the remaining 1/2 pizza just now.

The other day I finished my pleasure reading, 'What I Talk About When I Talk About Running' by Haruki Murakami.  Here's a taste:
And how great was my time?  Truth be told, not so great. At least, not as good as I'd been secretly hoping for. If possible, I was hoping to be able to wind up this book with a powerful statement like, 'Thanks to all the hard training I did, I was able to post a great time at the New York City Marathon. When I finished I was really moved,' and casually stroll off into the sunset with the theme song from Rocky blaring in the background. Until I actually ran the race I still clung to the hope that things would turn out that way, and was looking forward to this dramatic finale. That was my Plan A. A really great plan, I figured.
But in real life things don't go so smoothly. At certain points in our lives, when we really need a clear-cut solution, the person who knocks at our door is, more likely than not, a messenger bearing bad news. It isn't always the case, but from experience I'd say the gloomy reports far outnumber the others.  

Thanks for the uplifting book, Michelle!  He adds a somewhat encouraging piece near the end because that's just the way books like this have to end; can't have a bunch of readers who feel the pointlessness of their wasted lives, running around:

Even if, seen from the outside, or from some higher vantage point, this sort of life looks pointless or futile, or even extremely inefficient, it doesn't bother me. Maybe it's some pointless act like, as I've said before, pouring water into an old pan that has a hole in the bottom, but at least the effort you put into it remains. Whether it's good for anything or not, cool or totally uncool, in the final analysis what's most important is what you can't see but can feel in your heart. To be able to grasp something of value, sometimes you have to perform seemingly inefficient acts. But even activities that appear fruitless don't necessarily end up so. That's the feeling I have, as someone who's felt this, who's experienced it.

I also find it funny that in an entry a few days ago, I left unfinished a sentence about 'mindfulness'.  So telling.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Amendment to last week's running stats: we ran a mere 32 laps, not the triumphant 33.  I must have been thinking about Jesus, as per usual.

This week we ran 34 laps. Why?  Why the hell not?!  I didn't have a goal in mind, but because I hang out with people who do, I ended up running 34 laps.  I would have stopped at 7.  No, I wouldn't have been out there running in the first place.  Yay for me that I surround myself with winners.

I've been eating mainly bananas, spinach, frozen strawberries (smoothies); bananas and peanut butter (a new obsession that keeps me powered on days when I'm active and don't have time to eat until eight hours later); pasta with organic tomato sauce and avocado; and my steamrollers.  Occasionally I'll opt for a veggie curry combination plate from Thai Away Home when I'm feeling cozy.  I like to play with my rice and let it absorb all the coconut curry while I read my books on mindfulness

After finishing the run last night I couldn't finish my #3 veggie steamroller; a good trade-off.

And here's one of the pasta meals I've been making, inspired by my stay in North Van.


Fancy presentation, I know.  And yes, I ate it out of the pot like that because I can and I like to.