Thank God for popsicles: Riley's Rumble half-marathon.

I am currently freeloading off my roommate's family and their all-inclusive Jersey Shore beach vacation, so this will be brief. I am definitely still recovering from yesterday's adventure in insanity: the Riley's Rumble half-marathon, put on by the Montgomery County Road Runners. I've run several races with MCRR, and they are usually a great club. They do a low-key race series, which is free for their members and dirt cheap for non-members. This race was part of that series, which is why it only cost $15 to enter (that's about 1/3 the cost of the average half).

This race was a mixed bag: the course was absolutely beautiful- a series of rolling hills through farm land and some kind of agricultural preserve. Its a testament to the beauty of the course that I could even notice it through the crushing heat and humidity. On the other hand, the organization was not up to MCRR's usual standards. They (wisely, I think) decided to downgrade the event from a race to a fun run, in order to discourage people from overdoing it in the heat. Less wisely, they didn't take advantage of their website and hotline to announce this decicision before people arrived to register. This resulted in a few dissapointed, angry runners. To make matters worse, the registration area was a total disorganized mess, which meant that people waited in line 30-45 minutes just to sign in. The entire time, an announcer rambled on and on about how brutal the heat would be and the fact that the second half of the course was 80% uphill and 80% in the sun. All of this made the title "fun run" seem a little ironic.

But on to the race itself! I was pretty wary going into this race. Not only was the heat intense, but (thanks to injuries), I hadn't run more than 7 miles in over 3 weeks. My last strong, long (10-mile) run was way back on July 3rd. I promised myself I would take it easy and not worry about time, but I find that easier said than done. The first 5-6 miles weren't too bad. We started at 7am, so the heat wasn't too bad yet, and there was a lot of downhill in the first part of the course. I was taking 3 minute walk breaks every couple miles and feeling pretty strong. Then, somewhere around mile 6.5, I just ran out of gas. The course took an uphill, sunny detour around some farms just as the heat really picked up. I started feeling a little light-headed and getting goosebumps on my arms- both warning signs of heat issues. So, I started walking and drinking.

At the 8.5 mile-mark (the turnaround for the farm detour), a lovely family was handing out popsicles. Aside from being the best popsicle I ever tased, the popsicle was enough to cool me down and let me get going again. I was able to run most of the way to the 10-mile mark. At that point, the course became almost entirely uphill in the sun. I felt like I was running on fumes, so I decided that I would run all of the flat and downhill sections and walk when I needed to on the uphill. I think a lot of people had the same idea. I became part of a genial, supportive group of about 12-15 people gradually slogging toward the finish line. Miles 10 and 11 felt like they took forever. Then, at mile 12, we came around a corner and could see the finish line. That was enough motivation for almost everyone to pick it up and run to the end. In the end, I finished in 2:43, about 20 minutes off the 2:25 half I ran in March. As I crossed the finish line, the announcer yelled "Here's Alicia from Annapolis! The A10 will feel easy after this!" I hope he's right!

The last couple days, I've been really feeling the effects of having run in that heat and not having been adequately prepared. Every muscle in my body is stiff, and I don't feel like doing much other than eating and sleeping. In other words: ideal conditions for a vacation. So, thank you Katie for making that happen!

Pulling oars and muscles.

So, remember when I said I started having pain in my lower abs after last week's boot camp? Well, apparently the way to make that better was not to ignore it and hope it would go away. Seven days and numerous workouts later (two runs, three Group Power classes, two spin classes, and another session of bootcamp) the pain has gotten much worse. By this morning's bootcamp, I had to scale it back because I had no choice- the muscle simply won't let me push it any further. Fortunately, I did some reading on abdominal strains, and it looks like I just need to ice, take ibuprofren, and avoid ab exercise for awhile. I should (knock on wood) be okay to run. I'm supposed to do a half-marathon on Sunday, but I'm going to let tomorrow's shorter run tell me whether or not that's a good idea.

Between the heat and the injuries, I've been really struggling the past few weeks. I think its hard for anyone to psych themselves up for a first marathon, especially someone like me who consistently missed straight A's in school by getting B's in gym. It doesn't help when your mind, body and environment all seem to be saying "You can't do this!" Right now, what's keeping me going is the thought of honoring Dr. Murray and the people who are supporting me. If you are reading this, you are one of those people, so thank you!

On a happier note, I started training this week for an event that will happen in April 2011. My friends Krista and Ray, both ultra-marathoners (ie: people who run races longer than 26.2 miles), are having their wedding on the same day as a run-bike-canoe triathlon. Super athletes that they are, they decided to do the race the morning of their wedding and invite their guests to do it to. Apparently, they know a lot of crazy people, because many of us have agreed to go for it. I wasn't sure how my race partner and I would practice for the canoe portion of the event, but it turns out that my brother owns a canoe which was gathering dust in his yard. So, he and I cleaned it up and put it in the water, and Katie and I went for a lovely 45-minute canoe ride on Tuesday night. We're planning another for tomorrow. Way more fun than a pulled muscle!

Feel-good story of the day (and other news).

Today's New York Times features a great story about a man who recovered from open-heart surgery and then challenged his heart surgeon to do a triathlon with him. You can read it at http://www.nytimes.com/2010/07/19/sports/19racers.html. This story really spoke to me because this marathon experience has brought so many new people into my life and deepened my relationship with others in ways I never would have imagined. When I was taking classes from Dr. Murray in 2007 and 2008, I knew that she inspired me to push myself, but I never imagined that her example would push me into something like this!

Its been a very busy few days, so here are some highlights:

I made it back to boot camp this past Thursday. As usual, our awesome instructor Kate took us for a run outside and mixed it with a series of drills. As an added bonus, she set her watch alarm to go off every 5 minutes. Whenever it went off, we stopped wherever we happened to be and did 20 pushups followed by 20 mountain-climbers. During the class itself, I thought that the mountain-climbers were the easy part (relatively speaking). Then, my alarm went off Friday morning and I realized I couldn't sit up. My lower abs have been sore ever since. Doing anything in plank position is virtually impossible and anything involving sitting up is extra-difficult. (Note to self: work on lower abs!)

On Friday afternoon, I had lunch with my fabulous fundraising/training partner Katie Cashin. We made plans to distribute our newly-printed business cards (ask me for one!) and for our fundraising party series, Jock Jam Annapolis and Jock Jam Baltimore. More about that soon. That night, I went to see a show by my friends' amazing band, the Pushovers. You should check them out immediately at http://www.thepushoversband.com/. 1/3 of the band is my friend Nancy, who has wanted to be a musician throughout the many years I've known her and, over the past few years, has really made it happen. I could not be more proud of her!

On Saturday morning, I ran the John Wall 1-mile race with the Annapolis Striders. I haven't raced a mile since the Presidential physical fitness test my freshman year in high school, but somehow I remember that I did that in around 9 minutes. So, that was the only benchmark I had to go on. I put myself in the 8:30-9:30 heat and hoped I wouldn't come in last. I finished in 8:27, 18/23 people in my heat (clearly, I was not the only one guessing at which heat to be in). Not bad, but I think I could do much better with a little speed work. (Note to self: do speedwork!)

On Saturday afternoon, my family and I celebrated the 3rd birthday of my niece Greta (see post below) and then I came home and celebrated by return to the world of meat-eating by roasting a chicken:

It tasted even better than it looked. I was bursting with pride. Katie (my roommate) made some delicious light macaroni and cheese from the Rocco DiSpirito cookbook Now Eat This! and we had a terrific dinner.

Sunday morning, Katie and I worked off part of that dinner with a 6.5 mile-run downtown and around the Naval Academy. It was my first long-ish run on a hot day since hurting my ankle, and I can't say I put in a stellar performance, but I always enjoy morning runs in Annapolis. Its nice to run through a downtown that isn't packed with tourists and greet all of the other early-morning runners, fishermen, and crabbers. Katie and I went to church afterward, but we both had a hard time focusing because we were dreaming of the naps we would take when we got home.

Finally, this morning, Katie and I went to the 6am launch of the new Group Power release at my gym. The launch days are always fun- the instructors go all-out with themes, costumes, and prizes and the classes are usually packed. This morning was the first time my regular instructors Bill and Kelly led the launch, and they both did a great job. During the class, I didn't think it was that hard, but I'm already feeling the all-consuming hunger and soreness which tell me I was working harder than I thought.

That's all for now!

Giving and Thanks: in honor of Greta.

Today, my family will celebrate the 3rd birthday of my youngest niece, Greta. Between my two siblings, I have two nephews and two nieces: Jordan (21), Summer (16), Shane (10) and Greta (3). They are all unique and wonderful people and watching them grow is the greatest joy of my life.

I had the amazing honor of preaching at the service in which Greta was baptized. That would have been intimidating in and of itself, but it also happened to be my first time preaching at my home church and my first time preaching in front of my family. I was working on this sermon for weeks and still tweaking it minutes before the service, but in the end, I think its my favorite of all of my sermons. So, in honor of Greta, here it is. (FYI- the relationship referenced in this sermon ended over two years ago, but the story shared is a happy memory.)

Luke 17:11-19

On the way to Jerusalem Jesus was going through the region between Samaria and Galilee. As he entered a village, ten lepers approached him. Keeping their distance, they called out, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” When he saw them, he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went, they were made clean. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice. He prostrated himself at Jesus’ feet and thanked him. And he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus asked, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they? Was none of them found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” Then he said to him, “Get up and go on your way; your faith has made you well.”

Giving and Thanks: Luke 17:11-19

Preached at St. Andrew's UMC, October 14, 2007

I like giving. Last weekend, I went to CT to celebrate my boyfriend’s 30th birthday. I handled his presents in my usual fashion. Kevin knew what most of them were before I even got to CT, because I can’t keep a secret when it comes to presents. He opened his presents almost the second I arrived on Thursday, even though his birthday wasn’t until Sunday, because the waiting would have killed me. And, by the end of the weekend, I had treated Kevin to not one, but two spur-of-the-moment special dinners, because I don’t know where to stop when it comes to presents. Like I said, I like giving.

And it doesn’t stop at presents. I’ve spent most of my adult life in jobs that are all about giving back to the community, or in school learning how to be a better professional giver. Its been rewarding in a lot of ways, none of them financial. If nothing else, I always know that I’m giving the people who hold my student loans a lot of interest and I’m probably giving my parents ulcers.

I also like thank-you’s- both giving them and receiving them. Two summers ago, I led a camp for about 25 homeless kids in New Haven. We went on a lot of field trips. For me, one of the best parts of these trips came at the end, when I would line everyone up and say something like “What do we want to say to our tour guide?” All the kids would scream “Thank you!”, and I could tell by their smiles that they really meant it.

Just a few weeks ago, I spent some time sorting through my old letters, papers, and cards deciding what to keep and what to throw away. I noticed as I went along that I tended to hold on to thank-you cards more than anything else. For me, there’s not much better than knowing that something I said or did made a difference to someone else.

So, now that you know how I feel about giving and saying thank-you, you can probably guess that I love today’s lesson from Luke. Really, what’s not to love? For the past few weeks, Luke has been giving us one strange and disturbing story after another, but today- finally- we get a break: a nice, easy story with a simple message. Ten lepers approach Jesus and ask him for healing. All ten are healed, but only one chooses to go back and say thank-you. Jesus has some kind words for the grateful one, and some not-so-kind words for the other nine. And that’s that. Open and shut. Luke is telling us that we ought to say thank you. I think we can all get behind that. Oh- and one other thing- the leper who said thank you happens to be a Samaritan, a foreigner. So I guess Luke is also reminding us that we shouldn’t make assumptions about people who are different from us. Okay, Luke- point taken. Say thank-you and don’t make assumptions. Easy enough. It looks like we can all go home early this week.

Or can we? I’m not so sure. The more I think about this story, the less simple and easy it gets. Let’s go back for a minute and pay attention to what Jesus doesn’t do in this story: Aside from some nice words, Jesus doesn’t give anything extra to the one man who says thank-you. And more importantly, Jesus doesn’t take back what he already gave to the nine men who don’t say thank you. At the end of the story, all ten men are still healed. So what’s the point? Where’s the justice? Why should anyone go to the trouble of saying thank-you when nothing bad happens to people who don’t? And, if saying thank-you is so important to Jesus, why doesn’t he make a point by rewarding the one guy who does? Or punishing the nine guys who don’t? What does this story really teach us about giving and thanks?

As I thought about this story over the past few weeks, I kept coming back to the same question: Why do we say thank you? I did a little research by posing that question to some of my friends. They all said pretty much the same thing: We say thank you because its the right thing to do. When I asked why saying thank you is the right thing to do, my friends explained that saying thank-you lets someone know that you received their gift and that you appreciate their generosity. In other words, thank-you’s are for the giver. Most of us are taught this from childhood. When I was a kid, my mom sat me down at the kitchen table after every Christmas or birthday and made me write a thank-you card to everyone who had given me a present. Sometimes I didn’t want to do it, but mom made it clear that I owed at least a card to the people who had been so generous to me. And now, as an adult, I see her point. Like my friends and my mom, I think that saying thank you is the right thing to do.

But is that the only reason we do it? Are thank-you’s really just for the giver? In 1995, Sarah Ban Breathnach had a huge bestseller with Simple Abundance, a book about the power of gratitude. Ban Breathnach suggests that we can all transform our lives just by taking a few minutes a day to reflect on two or three things we are grateful for. Over time, this practice of gratitude helps us notice blessings and opportunities we might have overlooked. Eventually, we gain a more peaceful and positive outlook on life. In the years since this book first appeared, I’ve seen many other books, articles, and even scientific studies proclaiming the power of gratitude. In fact, psychologists who study happiness have shown that one of the biggest differences between happy people and unhappy people has to do with gratitude. Happy people- regardless of their circumstances- look at the world through a lens of gratitude. Don’t we all know people like this? People who might have next to nothing but are thankful for even their tiniest blessings? And don’t we also know people who have almost everything but can only see what they don’t have? Who’s happier? Who would you rather spend time with? Clearly, gratitude is good for the person expressing it, and not just the person receiving it.

So, if saying thank-you is both the right thing to do and really good for us, why doesn’t everyone do it? We might assume that people who don’t say thank you are just rude, or unappreciative, or self-centered. I’m sure this is true some of the time, but I think that today’s text also points to other, deeper reasons why some people don’t say thank you.

In my first job as a “professional giver,” I counseled troubled children and their families. One of the hardest things for me to get used to when I started this job was the fact that nobody ever thanked me for anything. I would go out of way to be helpful and generous to kids and parents who really needed it, and I would never hear a “thank-you.” In fact, some of the kids seemed to misbehave more when I treated them to something special. At first, I thought that the families were just ungrateful or that the parents had failed to teach their children proper manners. But with time and guidance from my colleagues, I came to see things differently. The people I served had been abused, neglected and ostracized for years- often for their entire lives. They weren’t used to kindness or generosity. When I reached out to them, some just didn’t know how to react. Some pushed me away out of fear. And some were embarrassed because they felt like they couldn’t give me anything in return.

I imagine that the lepers in today’s story have similar reactions to Jesus’s kindness. These men are the absolute dregs of their society- physically disabled, grossly disfigured, unable to earn a living, and forbidden to even approach other people. They can’t even walk up to Jesus to ask him for healing- they have to shout at him from a distance. After they are healed, I’ll bet that most of them think about going back to thank Jesus. But after years of being outcasts, the idea of approaching anyone must be terrifying, much less approaching a great teacher and miracle worker. And even if they can muster the courage to approach Jesus, a simple “thank you” must seem like a wildly inadequate response to the gift they’ve been given. Why would a great man like Jesus care about their measly thanks?

Imagine the courage that it takes for that one man to go back to Jesus and offer his gratitude. When he throws himself at Jesus’s feet, he must be terrified that Jesus is going to scoff at him or even kick him away. Now, imagine how that man must feel when Jesus speaks to him. “Get up and go on your way. Your faith has made you well.” With that simple statement, Jesus tells this Samaritan man that his gratitude means something. Even if he can’t give anything else, he can give thanks and that’s enough. In a sense, the grateful man in this story does receive something extra. Jesus heals his broken body, and then the act of thanking Jesus heals his broken spirit. All ten men are healed, but only this one is made well.

Today, my family is celebrating the baptism of my new baby niece, Greta. I’m really glad that Greta is being baptized today, because I think that this text is a great illustration of how United Methodist’s think about baptism. For our church, baptism is all about giving and thanks. According to our Book of Worship, “Baptism is an act that looks back with gratitude on what God’s grace has already accomplished, it is a here and now act of God’s grace, and it looks forward to what God’s grace will accomplish in the future.” Baptism celebrates the fact that each and every person who enters this world is a beloved child of God. This is one of the reasons our church baptizes children- we believe that membership in God’s family is a gift given to everyone, not something we have to earn. We also believe that baptism can never be taken away. The Book of Worship tells us that “while our baptismal vows are less than reliable, God’s promise to us in the sacrament is steadfast.”

Like Jesus’s healing in today’s story, our baptism is a gift given without cost or obligation. Yet, today’s story reminds us that how we respond to such a gift is as important- if not more important- than the gift itself. Take Greta for example. Even if she leaves here today and never sets foot in a church again, she will always be a beloved child of God. But imagine how different her life will be if she learns to appreciate this gift, and has the courage to respond to it. It won’t be easy, but if we all honor the vows that we make today, she won’t have to do it alone.

Luke doesn’t tell us what happens to the grateful Samaritan man after today’s story is over, but I like to think that he runs back to his nine friends and shares what he’s learned. I hope that, sooner or later, all ten men are able to experience the healing power of gratitude. Likewise, I hope that each of us can take the opportunity we have today to reflect on the gift of our baptism, and then respond to that gift by reaching out to one another and the rest of the world. Let’s start right now by giving each other signs of peace. Amen.

Eating with Oprah.

Every year, my mom gives me a subscription to The Oprah Magazine for Christmas. This is awesome because I get to read it without the shame of having actually purchased it. The food section is always filled with things that look amazing, but I find that the recipes often involve rare and expensive ingredients, crazy complicated techniques, and/or tools that only some professional have access to. I think Oprah forgets that we don't all have personal chefs.

Earlier this week, I was flipping through the latest issue and found a story on cooking with peaches. All of the pictures looked so delicious that I immediately called my roommate Katie over to look. The first photo featured a grilled pizza, which was fortuitous, because Katie has recently gotten way into grilling pizza. We were intrigued.

Katie and I have been roommates for a year, but for most of that time we've been entirely consumed by work: Katie as a veterinary resident, me as a counseling intern. For many months, we both worked 12+ hours days, on opposite schedules, which means we often went days without even seeing one another. Its a real shame, because Katie is one of the best roommates I've ever had and we actually enjoy one another's company at those times when our paths cross. My internship ended in May and Katie finished her residency at the end of June, so now we have about 6 weeks of actual interaction before Katie moves on to a new job in Hawaii (happy for her, sad for me). We are spending the majority of that time working out and cooking.

Katie and I are a good match in both of these areas. She's a million times more experienced and talented as an athlete, and I'm a bit more knowledgable in the kitchen. So, we can push each other. Plus, its much less intimidating to set out on a hard run or embark on a big culinary project if you know you have help. The pizza pictured above was a perfect collboration. I wrote the shopping list, made the dough, and assembled the toppings; Katie shaped the dough and figured out how to get it on the grill. The end results were DELICIOUS. Yay teamwork.

(I would post the recipe, but I can't find it online, so instead I will implore you to buy, borrow, or steal a copy of this month's Oprah magazine. Whatever you pay will be worth it. If you're curious, the crust is made from corn meal and bread flour, and the toppings are olive oil, red pepper flakes, garlic, peaches, pancetta, goat cheese, toasted almonds, arugula, and a little more olive oil and salt.)

In other news, I did my first short run on the ankle this morning as part of boot camp class, and everything seems fine! I think I'm going to shave a few miles off the long run this weekend, but hopefully I'll be back on track within a few weeks. Thanks for all of your concern and supportive messages!

Tour de Pain

As noted yesterday (see below), my new favorite orthopedist has declared my ankle healed and cleared me to resume exercise. All in all, I only wound up taking 3 full days off, but it felt like forever. On a normal Tuesday, I run in the morning and then go for a spin class followed by a short treadmill run in the evening. (Or, on a lazy Tuesday, I sleep through the morning run and put in extra time in the evening.) Yesterday, the morning run was out due to the doctor's appointment and I decided to try just the spin class in the evening.

The good news is that the ankle feels fine. The bad news is that I did not realize my dream of coming into class full of vigor from my days of rest and pushing my performance to new heights. Instead, by 10 minutes into our Tour de France-themed class, I felt like I had been pedaling for 2241 miles.* I felt like I had taken 3 weeks off rather than 3 days. A little discouraging, but hopefully I'll be back to normal soon.

I did another modified workout this morning: just Group Power, instead of Group Power followed by treadmill. This was partially because I'm still taking it easy and partially because I had to run home and make food for a potluck (yum). Unlike the spinning, that class felt totally normal (though I did go easy on the weight). If time permits, I'm going to try my first actual run since the fall this evening. Wish me luck!

*Actual length of the Tour de France. Thank you, internet!

Good news from the doctor!

I had my appointment with the orthopedist at 7:30 this morning. Given the fact that my ankle feels totally fine now, I felt a little silly going at all, much less showing up with my enormous Xrays. The last time I saw an orthopedist (at the otherwise amazing Shock Trauma in Baltimore), I recall being made to feel like my relatively minor injury was wasting his time. As I was walking back to his office, I actually overheard him read my referral and comment to a colleague "Oh please. Show me something that's actually broken."

Fortunately, this morning's visit was not like that at all. The only attitude I got was from the receptionist, who was super-agitated when I and several other patients showed up 20 minutes early for our appointments as we had been instructed. She had us wait in the hall until 7:15, when she opened the door and stated that she doesn't start work until 7:20, so we could come in, but we would have to sit and wait. I foolishly asked if I should be filling out paperwork while waiting and was told "yes, but you can sit down and wait until I'm ready to give it to you." Sorry I asked.

When the doctor called me back, I recited the whole story for him. I emphasized that I'm not generally someone who over-reacts to pain (see yesterday's post); my ankle really hurt for awhile and now it really feels fine. He seemed to understand and said that he sees similar situations with runners often. As long as the pain is gone, he told me I could resume training and gave me some topical cream in case the pain comes back. We chit-chatted about marathons for a few minutes and he sent me on my way.

(And- to her credit- the receptionist was perfectly polite when I left. So I'm going to assume she was just having a bad morning.)

So, with the all-clear, I'm going to go to spin class tonight and see how things go. Game on!

"Don't tell me what I can't do!"

For those of you who are not Lost fans, the above quote was a frequent declaration of the character John Locke. I was feeling a little bit like Locke this morning as I stayed home from my usual Monday morning Group Power class.

My ankle feels fine now, which is amazing to me given how intensely it hurt on Friday. Its a commonly held belief in my family that we all inherited a freakisly high tolerance for pain. Stories abound within the family of relatives refusing to go to the hospital despite serious illnesses and injuries, refusing totally normal pain meds, and not realizing they have serious health problems because they swear they feel fine. I'm no exception. It takes a lot to get me to go to a doctor. Yet, I came very close to actually calling an ambulance on Friday. That's how much the ankle hurt.

After a weekend of rest, ice, compression, and elevation, it feels like things are back to normal. My better judgement convinced me not to cancel my orthopedist appointment tomorrow morning and to stay off of it until after I see the doctor. This morning, though, my better judgement had a major shouting match with the more reckless part of me that wanted to go ahead with my normal exercise routine. I think its a fact of human nature that, even with tasks we usually have to talk ourselves into (aka: working out), being told we can't do them makes us want to do them more than anything.

I stayed home, so I'm hoping I'll be rewarded tomorrow with good news from the orthopedist. Wish me luck!

Not a great start to the weekend.

The plan for today was to join my sister on her first 5K ever and run to and from the race in order to add enough extra miles to equal a 12-mile long run. Instead, today is all about RICE: rest, ice, compression, and elevation. Awesome.

The trouble started yesterday morning. I took a half-day from work in order to make up some of the training I missed while I was on half a dozen planes and in WA (see post from earlier this week). My awesome and very athletic roommate agreed to join me at 6:30am for a trail run, followed by a visit to the new Annapolis recreation center at Truxton Park to use the track. For me, the run was rough from the beginning. It was hot and I had barely done anything all week (see other post from earlier this week). By the time we reached the trail, I was really struggling and Katie was way ahead.

About halfway through the trail, I tripped on a tree root and fell, twisting my ankle. I got up and tried walking on it. It definitely hurt, but not too bad. I walked on it for a few minutes and the pain went away. By the time Katie realized I was missing and came back to check on me, it felt fine. I resumed running and was fine for the rest of the trail, a mile run on the track, and the mile walk home. The most painful part of the whole thing was at the rec center, when I put some hand sanitizer on the abrasion on my left leg (yikes!).

After I got home and had a snack, I felt good enough to walk to the gym for group power. I made it through the class fine, no pain at all. Then, during the cool down, I noticed that my ankle hurt whenever I put my weight on my right side. It got steadily worse as I walked home. Within 30 minutes of arriving home, it was excruciating and I couldn't put weight on it at all. I actually crawled to the bathroom at one point because trying to walk was just too painful.

Two hours of icing and elevation later, things were no better, so I made a doctor's appointment and took some Advil. Naturally, as soon as I had an appointment, I started to feel a little better. Katie took me to the doctors where they talked to me like I was both reckless and crazy. "You ran after you fell? And then you went to the gym???" I kept trying to explain that the ankle didn't hurt until after the gym, but I don't think anyone really heard me. The doctor sent me for xrays and gave me a referral to an orthopedist. Then my mom, who asked the same incredulous questions as the doctors, gave me one of the crutches I used 10 years ago when I was in a bad car accident.

Today, the ankle feels much, much better. Its shocking how much it hurt yesterday and how little it hurts today. I go to the orthopedist Tuesday and I'm praying that he'll tell me I can get back to training soon. I really don't want to get too far off track. Plus, working out has become such a huge part of my routine that I hate missing it.

In more positive news, I tried my first recipe from Rocco DiSpirito's new light cookbook, Now Eat This! (http://amzn.com/0345520904) and it was delicious! Definitely a book to try. Also, my awesome sister Meghan and my niece's friend Liza persevered through pouring rain this morning to run that 5K- a first for both of them. So, congratulations to Meghan and Liza!

This is becoming a problem.

When I first visited my gym last August and took a look at the schedule, I wasn't sure it would work for me. Given the crazy schedule I had from September-May, I knew that the only time I would be able to go would be at 6am. I have never been great at getting up in the morning; I used to struggle to get to work at 9:30am. How was I going to drag myself out of bed in the dark to work out?

At that time, I happened to be reading the terrific book Changing for Good (http://amzn.com/038072572X). This book introduced the concept of stages of change, which has become a widely accepted idea in counseling. There are tons of books about the stages written for therapists, but this one was originally intended as a self-help book for anyone wishing to change a bad habit. I've read it a few times in order to help clients, and the great thing about it is that I can't help but work on one or more of my own bad habits every time I read it. So, last August, I looked at the gym schedule and the advice in Changing for Good and thought "I can make this work."

For the most part, I have made it work. Since the second week of August last year, I have not gone a week without exercising at least four times, and I often make it five or six. Until this week. I don't know if its the heat, jet lag, or what, but I just could not drag myself out of bed this week. I even missed three group exercise classes that I really like just because I didn't feel like going. I know I'm going to pay for it on this weekend's long run.

The authors of Stages of Change would call this "recycling," which is their preferred term for "relapse." I think those guys might be watching me because, as I sit in my counseling office and type this, I just got a call from a client, with whom I've been working on the stages of change. She can't make it tonight. Which means I can go home and go to the gym. Time to recycle!

Adventures in climate-hopping.

I've been M.I.A. for a few days, in part because I went on a little trip and in part because I've been holed up at home in the a/c reading Justin Cronin's completely addictive novel, The Passage (http://amzn.com/0345504968). If any of you are looking for great summer/beach reading, look no further. As many reviewers have aptly stated, this is the kind of book that you can't put down, even though you kind of want to because you don't want it to end. I heard about it from a brief mention in a magazine and a friend's Facebook post and only learned this morning (when I went to Amazon to get the link) that it is part one of a planned triology. Hooray! With Harry Potter and Lost over, I need something to spend the next several years theorizing about.

So, on to the weekend: I did marathon training long run #2 on Saturday, then headed straight to the airport for the shortest West Coast trip ever: left Saturday morning, attended/DJ'd a wedding Sunday, flew back Monday. Here are the highlights:

1) The long run. What a difference a few degrees makes! I wasn't really looking forward to this run because I found the same distance (10 miles) so difficult the week before. Also, I had to do it by myself because my running buddy was doing another race and the Striders were setting out too late for me to run with them and make my flight. It turns out that I need not have worried. Thanks to my earlier start time and a merciful break in the heat, this 10-miler was a billion times easier and more pleasant than the week before. I walked more than usual and still finished 10 minutes ahead of my time the previous week. So, that was a great start to the weekend and a nice confidence-builder early in my training.

2) The long plane ride(s). Unfortunately, the weekend took a downward plunge after the run. I went to BWI for what was supposed to be a 12:35 flight to St. Louis and a connecting flight to Seattle, with arrival at 6:50pm West Coast time. I had taken a footlong Subway sub with me, intending to eat half on the first flight and half on the second, saving both money and calories. I also planned to sleep off the early-morning run during the flights and arrive awake enough to spend the evening with friends. Good plan, right?

The cascade of crappy events began with the 12:35 flight being late. By the time I got on the plane, I was starving (keep in mind I ran 10 miles that morning) and worried that I might miss my connection at STL. I ate the whole sub as soon as we took off. Then, 10 or 15 minutes into the flight, the captain came on and announced that there was a problem with the plane and we had to go back to BWI. So, we turned around, but there were no runways clear, so we just circled at low altitude for 45 minutes. Something about this process made me nauseous, so I spent that whole time trying not to throw up the huge sub. I was very thankful when we landed, despite the fact that I had already missed my connecting flight and would need to be re-routed.

I got moved to a flight to Denver at 3:55pm, followed by another flight which was scheduled to arrive in Seattle at 9pm West Coast time, meaning that I would miss time with my friends. At this point, I was out of food, so I (unwisely) bought some greasy Chinese food to eat on the flight and then (even more unwisely) stress-ate half of it before we ever boarded. The flight to Denver was relatively smooth, but I could not manage to fall asleep for even a few minutes. Then, when we arrived (at 5pm CO time), we learned that our connecting flight was delayed and we would be at the Denver airport for 3 hours. So that made me even more tired and cranky. What to do? Grab a snack, of course! By the time all this craziness was over, I had easily undone the 10-mile run and then some. (Mental note: pack way more healthy food than you think you will need whenever traveling).

We boarded the flight to Denver at 8pm. By this point, our best possible arrival time in Seattle was 9:30pm Pacific-time. A few minutes after boarding, the captain came on to announce that we were experiencing a lightning storm and all the runways were closed. So, we waited on the runway for another 45 minutes or so for that to clear. By the time we arrived in Seattle, it was after 10pm Pacific time (so 1am to my body, which had been up since 5:30am). I had been instructed to take a 45-minute bus ride and a 10-minute train ride to my hotel, so I headed for the bus stop. It turned out to be clear on the other side of the very large airport and down several long deserted walkways which looked kind of like this:

When I finally got to the bus stop, I realized that I had already missed the last bus. D'oh! So, I speed-walked back down the scary walkways and found a place where I could book a spot on a shuttle. I had a pleasant ride with a very nice shuttle-driver and finally reached the hotel at about 12:30am Pacific time. By this point, I had been awake for 22 hours. I'm still not sure how I managed that.

3) The wedding. The one good thing about my crazy travel ordeal and the marathon 22-hour day was that I went to sleep at 12:30 and woke up at 7:30 just like a normal day. No jet lag at all. So, I was awake and able to enjoy my friend Angela's truly lovely wedding to her new husband Matt. One of the many great things about going to Yale Divinity School is that the students there are really committed to creating creative, meaningful liturgy. Thus, YDS weddings are pretty much always awesome, and this one was no exception.

My DJ gig was at reception #1: a lovely lunch event at a rooftop venue in downtown Tacoma, WA. I love DJing for many reasons, but I especially love DJing friends' weddings because I'm able to really make the music meaningful for them. The time of day seemed to keep people from dancing much, but I was really thrilled with the cocktail/dinner music, which seemed to please both the bride and groom and the guests.

Reception #2 was an open house at the bride's parents' home, overlooking the water and the annual Tacoma 4th of July festivities. Getting married on the 4th was a smart move on Angela and Matt's part. How else do people who aren't mega-rich get to conclude their wedding with fireworks? Well-played, Angela and Matt. It was unseasonably cold in Tacoma on the 4th. I spent the evening shivering in a sweater and jacket, which made coming home to triple-digit heat a little shocking.

4) The trip home. This one was (thankfully) much smoother than the trip out. The only problem was that I didn't realize that the busses and trains were still running on a holiday schedule and wound up having to take a $60 cab ride to the airport. Also, it was a bummer to leave so soon after my arrival, especially once I realized that most of my friends were staying to hang out an extra day. Oh well.

So, now you're pretty much caught up. I meant to go back to the gym yesterday and get back to training. Yet, somehow, I wound up sitting in my air-conditioned room reading all afternoon/evening. I think the 105 degree heat may have had something to do with that. So, I really need to get back tonight and also to start planning for how I'm going to cope with the heat this weekend. Time to freeze some Gatorade!

Birthdays and blueberries.

June is a big month for birthdays in my family. Mine is June 5th, my nephew Shane's is June 22nd, and my Mom's was yesterday (June 30th). Mom doesn't look it, but she just turned 58. She looks as good as she does, at least in part, because she's always been super health-conscious. When she was a kid and teenager, she participated in all manner of exotic athletic pursuits, including baton-twirling and belly-dancing. At one time, she hoped to be a school gym teacher, but instead she got married at age 20 to my Dad, who already had two small children. As busy as she was with two (and eventually three) small children, she always took the time to eat healthy and exercise. When I was little, we used to go for walks or bike rides pretty much every day, and twice each week, I would sit reading in a school gymnasium as she took her weekly aerobics class. Now, many years later, Mom still does aerobics every week, gets up early to catch exercise shows on TV, and takes my little niece Greta (above) for walks while my sister-in-law takes her own fitness classes. So, thanks Mom, for setting a good example for us.

For both Father's Day and Mom's birthday, I made two delicious treats involving blueberries. Fruity desserts are my favorite kind, so I always get excited when berry season rolls around. Back in 2006, when I was still at Yale, I got a great summer internship which featured all manner of fun social activities for my fellow interns and I. One of those events was blueberry-picking at one of my favorite CT places: Bishop's Orchards (http://www.bishopsorchards.com/).

The trip wound up falling on one of the hottest days of that summer, so only the die-hard foodies among the interns decided to go. Given the small numbers, my supervisor generously allowed me to bring my roommate Matt along for the ride. Matt and I were best friends for all three of our years at Yale, and probably spent 75% of that time at restuarants or in the kitchen (the other 25% we spent talking about Harry Potter and watching "Lost"). This is how I'll always remember Matt:

When we arrived at Bishop's, we were told that we had an hour to pick as many blueberries as we wanted. As long as we could stand the heat and keep picking, all the berries were free. Matt and I were up to that challenge. We walked away with well over 20 pounds of blueberries. Thus began challenge #2: using 2o+ pounds of blueberries. We ate them raw, put them on salads, blended them in smoothies (with yogurt before work, with vodka and triple sec after work), and baked them into whatever creations we could imagine. To this day, whenever I cook with blueberries, I think of that time. Sigh.

So, in honor of birthdays and blueberries, here are three great, easy recipes which use the same basic ingredients:

Blueberry sauce:

All you need for this is 1/2 to 1 pint of blueberries and some red wine. Just put the blueberries in a small sauce pan with enough red wine to cover them and simmer over low-medium heat, stirring often, until they form into a sauce. You can use the sauce for ice cream, crepes, other desserts, whatever. This basic recipe works with all kinds of berries, fresh and frozen. I use it all the time.

Blueberry lemon muffins:

This is another Food Network recipe, from the cookbook How to Boil Water (http://amzn.com/0696226863). It says that it makes 12 muffins, but I usually get 18 from this recipe. Also, you can replace the 1/2 cup of butter with 1/2 cup of vegetable oil if you prefer.

Ingredients

2 1/2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour
3/4 cup sugar (white or light brown) plus more for sprinkling on top of the muffins
1 tablespoon baking powder
1/8 teaspoon fine salt
Freshly grated nutmeg
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter
1 cup whole milk
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1 tablespoon finely grated lemon zest
1/2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups fresh blueberries, rinsed and dried

Directions

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees F. Line a 12-muffin tin with cupcake liners and set aside.

Whisk the flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and nutmeg together in a medium bowl; set aside.

Put the butter in a microwaveable-safe dish or measuring cup. Cover with plastic wrap and microwave until melted, about 30 seconds. (Alternatively melt the butter in a saucepan.) Whisk the milk, eggs, lemon zest, and vanilla with the butter.

Make a small well in the center of the dry ingredients. Pour wet ingredients into the well, then stir with a wooden spoon until the dry ingredients are moistened but still lumpy. Do not overmix the batter or your muffins will be dense. Gently stir in the blueberries. Divide the batter evenly into the muffin tin and sprinkle the tops generously with sugar.

Put the muffins in the oven and immediately reduce oven temperature to 375 degrees F. Bake until golden brown, about 25 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through the cooking. (Insert a toothpick into the center of a muffin to check if it is done. Toothpick should come out clean). Cool muffins in the pan on a rack for a couple minutes. Turn the muffins out of the pan and cool on the rack. Serve warm or at room temperature.


Blueberry cobbler:

This recipe comes from my favorite magazine, Real Simple. I remember getting the issue and being so excited about it that I made it that very day. Its very easy and delicious. This is a photo I took the first time I made it, to prove that it looked just like the picture:



Ingredients

2 pints blueberries
1/3 cup plus 1/4 cup granulated sugar
1 1/2 cups plus 1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into pieces
2 cups heavy cream

Directions

1. Heat oven to 375° F. In a shallow 1 1/2-quart baking dish or a 9-inch deep-dish pie plate, toss the blueberries, 1/3 cup sugar, and 1 tablespoon flour.

2. In a medium bowl, combine the baking powder, salt, lemon zest, and the remaining flour and sugar.

3. Add the butter and blend with your fingers or 2 knives until coarse crumbs form. Add 3/4 cup plus 2 tablespoons cream and mix until a shaggy dough forms.

4. Drop mounds of dough over the blueberry mixture. Bake until the berries are bubbling and the top is golden, 35 to 40 minutes. Serve with the remaining cream for drizzling, if desired.

Enjoy!