Can't Run - Would Rather be Dry

It is raining buckets. Today is just part of the string of rainy days. I am sore from yesterday anyhow. I also think I am full from yesterday. I think I must have overdosed on soup - as delicious as it was - I still had too much.

Yesterday I got the Larousse Gastronomique in the mail. It is a 1300 page (give or take) culinary encyclopedia with recipes throughout. It is actually quite awesome. I learned that a faggot is a type of sausage or meatball and read up on how to bone an eel. Which, was mostly just for the ick factor. I will not be boning an eel. Ick.

No running and no cooking today. Phew.

Italian Soup and Running in the Shit

I slept in until 9:30 am today. It was really brilliant. I had plans to make some baguettes, some soup, and go for a run (not necessarily in that order). The rain was coming in sideways and wasn't going anywhere. I got all changed into my running garb and started my baguettes. My goal was to go run up the local ski mountain a bit, buy groceries for the soup, and then come back just in time to get the risen dough into the baguette pan. (Invest in a baguette pan, it is so freaking worth it) I spent 35 minutes running up and 25 minutes running down....it was not the most fun run. The rain hit me from all directions. The wind drove the drops into every pore; I was wearing a rain jacket and a hat, but that was apparently for show because I was still one wet monkey when it was all over. Luckily I had a sweatshirt to change into once I got back to the car. Since I wussed out after only an hour, I was ahead of schedule. The grocery store seemed much colder than usual since my running tights were now just a saturated cover and the supermarket shopping was a little less intense than running. I finally made it back home with some too expensive bacon, Italian sausage, chicken broth, garlic, onions, potatoes, red pepper, spinach, and heavy cream. Zuppa Toscana would go great with my bread.

There was no epic with the bread or the soup. It was all perfect. The only downside was that I had completely gorged on baguette and olive oil while cooking and the soup is probably one of the most fattening soups that I could possibly make. You cook sausage, put it aside (hoping it drains a little), cook bacon, and then add the onion and garlic right to the bacon - don't drain the fat because you will lose all the bacon-y goodness. I must add that when I checked on the potatoes cooking slowly in the broth, onions, garlic, bacon, and bacon fat, that they did taste like bacon. Come on. Bacon flavored potatoes? Mmmmm. I also cut up some parm rind and let it cook with the soup. It really gives it a little something. I don't know what, but something good. It went great with the merlot I got at Costco for 11 bucks.

Considering that I ran in the horrible weather, I feel like I deserved the soup and bread overdose, but I don't think I am closer to being in "killer shape" for a race. At this rate, it will take me almost a year to lose five pounds...and that is with the running uphill in the sideways rain.

Run more? Absolutely. Lose the bacon fat? Never.

One Week Post-Race, Two Months Sans Gallbladder

Alright. So, I am not so good at updating my blog. A lot has happened. No sooner did I decide, "Yes, back to running!", did the health really start to take turn. I have been having tummy troubles a lot this past year, plenty of tests, drugs, etc., but no certain diagnosis. Slowly I started not being able to eat things. The list of offenders got long. The symptoms got more gnarly. Vomiting became a part of the afternoon. I kept thinking "I will get better. Hang in there". Before long, I was trying to balance almost constant low-grade nausea, followed by worse nausea, followed by vomiting, and running. After finally going to a wonderful surgeon, she knew just the right test for me to undergo. The one that would tell me that my gallbladder didn't work worth a damn. Well for $2700, her hunch was confirmed. But, I had to spend another $2000, for another test just to make sure. Two weeks later, my faulty gallbladder was removed (a mere $17,000) and I was really off running for awhile ( and thinking about the plusses of having health insurance, lucky me). I couldn't run, but I had four holes in my abdomen. My bellybutton was then not just pierced, but had a scar to remind me that an organ was sucked out of it. Two months after surgery, I still had the Klondike to run. I had attempted to start running two or three weeks after, but that ended with some weird bruising and the doctor strongly urging me to "take it easy". Once I got back to running, work was busy and two times a week was all I was able to squeeze in. Not even a good long hill run to prepare me for the 5.6 mile, uphill all the way, run that was coming down the pike. I wasn't about to bail. Besides, the ferry ticket was $100 bucks and I already paid. Once you buy the ferry ticket, there is no backing out.

The Klondike went well. I didn't end up having to walk and that was good enough for me. I did get passed by a guy who had to be 65. He cruised on past like he had been running uphill his whole life. Man. At some point I slept on the side of the road in the ick-van with two of my teammates (the very cool Skye and Becca, Legs 1 and 3, respectively) and when I woke in the morning realized that we were really only 20 minutes outside of Whitehorse. Coulda, woulda, shoulda. But, sleeping in a van isn't the worse thing I can think of.

Now it is mid-September, I am back to running, and thinking maybe I should do that Mayor's Marathon this June. But, I also have to engage in some cooking adventures which are rarely low fat these days (since now I can eat fat again) and will hardly help me train for anything except Iron Chef. Somehow I will find a way to be a foodie and train for a marathon. Realistically, I will not update this blog for awhile. But, stranger things have happened.