Threesome

Posted on January 26, 2012 by shelby| 16 Comments

Since my husband has been off doing his new job thing and I’ve been a fake single girl, I’ve learned something about myself in the bedroom. Namely: I’m about as dominant as a tramped-down doormat.

It starts out innocently enough.

I take my side of the bed, and they take the empty one. We engage in a little foreplay: I set up my phone with Pandora and sleep timer; they turn in circles and purr and knead the comforter. After a few minutes, each of us has settled in to his or her space. We’re good to go. (To sleep.)

A couple of hours later, I awaken to find myself stuck.

They tag team me, going for a weak spot: the crook behind the knee. It’s a devious move on their part, as I’m now trapped on my side, pinned down to the mattress, and they can do whatever they please. (Which is…sleeping.)

I squirm for a few moments, trying to get up the nerve to move. But I’m under a spell…their soft furry bellies, rising and falling so gently. Their little sighs. Their twitchy paws. In the end I relent and drift back off, anchored under my furry captors.

This emboldens them, and they become more aggressive.

All of a sudden, the bed becomes unbearably warm. I’m sweating and clammy and I want it to stop. There are too many bodies in this bed. Someone has to go. I just can’t. (Sleep.)

Beaten down by the battle, I concede. When I awaken in the morning with shadows under my eyes, I just tell myself: well, that’s the price you pay for a wild night in a crowded bed.

Yeah, I know I could just boot them out and shut the door. (And sometimes I do.) But the truth is, I kind of love having my cats around as I lay down to sleep. It makes this whole temporary-long-distance thing a whole lot less lonely.

And if that means sacrificing a little sleep, so be it. I can’t help it if I’m a pushover in the bedroom.

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Posted in Crazy Cat Lady, MSPAINT FTW

Tempo Tuesday: chasing sub-7

Posted on January 25, 2012 by shelby| 21 Comments

So I’m a little conflicted about this one.

I headed out at lunchtime today for a tempo run. The plan was 5 miles at goal half marathon pace, which is 7:15-7:20. I figured I should start rehearsing since I’m running one in a couple of months.

(Did I mention this? I don’t think I mentioned this. I signed up – just in the nick of time, as it’s now full – for the Tobacco Road Half Marathon. It’s on Sunday, March 18. Moving day is March 19. So that should be a fun weekend.)

Anyway, the tempo. I hit the first mile in 7:04 and felt really really good…aaaaand poof! 7:20 pace went right out the window.

I don’t know where that came from, but…that is not half marathon pace. I’m not even sure it’s 10K pace. At an average per mile of 6:59, it might actually be closer to 5K pace. But today, it was OMG THIS IS FUN pace. It was hard but it felt great.

(That first mile is junk, BTW…I was too impatient to wait for the satellites to load so I just took off on my warm up and didn’t start picking up distance until a couple of minutes in.)

On one hand, I’m thrilled, because I ran pretty darn fast (on a hilly course, too) and felt fantastic. On the other hand, I totally missed the point of the workout, which was not to run balls out, but to rehearse half marathon pace.

Also, it always makes me feel a little sheepish about my race performances when I run workouts like this. Like…something is not clicking during races. Why can’t I fly along like that when I’m running a 5K? Because the last time I ran a 5K, it was a major struggle to hit 6:XX. Today, it felt natural and…well, not exactly comfortable, but manageable.

It’s a mystery, I guess. Anyway.

In honor of tonight’s SOTU, I opened this bottle of Fermentation Without Representation, which is an Imperial Pumpkin Porter.

This beer is part of the Salt Lake City-based Epic Brewing Company‘s Exponential Series, a collection of quirky, seasonal and/or limited release brews  which the brewery markets to the “accomplished consumer or the ever-curious.” Well, I’m not exactly the former, but I’m always up for trying something a little different.

Sweet and smooth, this porter goes down easy. The pumpkin flavor (which I’m not generally nuts about) actually goes pretty well with the beer’s toasty dark malt, and is more squash casserole than pumpkin pie. Of course you get some nutmeg and cinnamon, but I appreciated that they were balanced by more traditional porter flavors: coffee beans, dark chocolate, burnt caramel. 7.6% ABV.

Bottom line: It’s probably a little late in the season for this one, but grab it if you see it! Definitely worth trying. (Purchased at Bottle Revolution, $6/big bottle)

Even though presidents rarely say anything surprising or earth-shattering in their annual laundry lists, I try to tune in each year. I could say it’s because of my CIVIC DUTY or spout some bullshit about being an informed citizen, but really, I watch the SOTU for the same reason I watch the Superbowl. I’m not really rooting for either team, but on the off chance that some drama goes down, I don’t want to be the person at the water cooler the next day who has no idea what everyone else is yapping about.

And I’ll admit that by far the most entertaining part of the whole ordeal is watching the camera zoom in on the various members of congress and other public figures as they try to look appropriate in their reactions. Oh hey there, I see your barely-concealed smirk – and that lady across the aisle raises you a furrowed brow of forced consternation!

With that, I’m off to watch some more serious programming…Iron Chef America is on! Morimoto’s got my vote.

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Posted in Beer Reviews, Workout Recaps

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Almost perfect Pad Thai

Posted on January 22, 2012 by shelby| 22 Comments

Ask me about the best thing I’ve eaten abroad, and I’ll tell you: it’s Pad Thai from a street cart at a night market in Bangkok. And I’m not even trying to be trendy with the whole food truck thing. This was ten-plus years ago.

The noodles were fresh. The flavors were simple yet amazing: briny shrimp and tart tamarind, lightly sweetened and caramelized together to make a brown sauce so delectable you wanted to lick every last egg bit from your plate. (But you restrained, because you were eating at a table full of locals and you didn’t want to give scrubby American backpackers a bad name.) The whole thing was served piping hot, cooled down with a squeeze of lime wedge so that it wouldn’t scorch your tongue.

Good Pad Thai isn’t easy to re-create at home. It’s the fresh-noodle factor. And the heat factor. (Well, maybe your kitchen has a big-ass open-flame burner large enough to accommodate an enormous wok, but I have a crappy electric range.)

But it’s one of my favorite foods, so I try.

I’ve been tweaking this recipe, derived from a booklet I received as a souvenir for taking a tourist cooking class in Chiang Mai, on and off for a few years now, and I think I’m finally getting there.

To make good Pad Thai, you have to use a very hot pan: this prevents the noodles from getting overcooked and sticky. And when using a very hot pan, things happen quickly. When making a dish like this, I always measure and lay out each and every ingredient before I put anything in the pan. Even little things like spices and water.

More dishes, less stress.

So you get your pan piping hot and then add all of the above things in succession, while stirring constantly. My favorite part is the egg; I like to make a little cradle in the middle of the pan and scramble it there, in it’s own little space, before mixing it in with the noodles.

So, anyway. Try it and let me know how it goes for you?

Until then, I’ll keep tweaking….

Almost Perfect Pad Thai [Adapted from the Chiang Mai Thai Cookery School cookbook]

Serves 4.

1/2 lb dry flat rice noodles
2 tbsp vegetable oil
2 tsp jarred crushed garlic (or 2-3 fresh cloves, minced)
1/2 block extra firm tofu, pressed and cut in to 1/2″ cubes
1 lb shrimp, peeled and de-veined
1/2 C warm tap water
2 eggs, lightly beaten
3-4 scallions, sliced
1/4 C dry roasted peanuts, chopped
2 limes, cut in to wedges
1 C mung bean sprouts

Sauce:
1/4 C fish sauce
1/4 C brown sugar, lightly packed
2 tbsp soy sauce
2 tbsp fresh lime juice (1-2 limes)

  • Soak noodles in warm water for 20-25 min, or prepare according to package directions for stir-fry.
  • Heat oil over medium-high heat in a large high-sided pan or wok.
  • Whisk together sauce ingredients and set aside.
  • When pan is just smoking hot, add tofu and garlic. Stir until fragrant, about 45 seconds.
  • Add shrimp and stir until just barely opaque, about 45 seconds.
  • Add noodles and water and cook, stirring frequently, until water has absorbed, about 1 minute. Reduce heat to medium.
  • Add sauce and cook until absorbed, about 1 minute.
  • Push noodles and shrimp to the edges of the pan, creating a “cradle” in the center. Add egg and scramble. When egg is nearly cooked through, add half of scallions and combine with noodles. Toss thoroughly to distribute.
  • Transfer to a serving platter and top with bean sprouts and peanuts. Garnish with lime wedges. Serve immediately.

I had some Chardonnay with dinner:

This 14 Hands 2010 Chardonnay was a nice wine. Definitely on the fruitier side, but well-balanced by a hefty dose of vanilla and a very smooth apple-pie-like flavor.

Bottom line: A good value white, in my book! (Purchased at Harris Teeter, $12)

And that brings me to last week’s running recap:

I’m reasonably satisfied with my long-slow-distance (LSD) run and pretty happy that I got a track workout in, but I wish the overall mileage number were higher. I should be in the 50s. Perhaps I could have pushed today’s post-work run a bit to get there, but it just didn’t seem like it was worth it. My legs were tired from a long day at work, and really, I need to be logging that mileage in earlier in the week, not cramming it on on Sunday night on the heels of a long run.

I know I need to start doing doubles again, a couple of times a week, if I want to get my weekly number back up in to the fifties and sixties and beyond.

Let’s call that a goal for this coming week, eh?

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Posted in Recipes, Travel, Weekly Running Recap, Wine Reviews

Wasted Saturday

Posted on January 22, 2012 by shelby| 21 Comments

I don’t mean like totally wasted, OMG let’s go streaking through the quad! (That was last weekend in Vegas. Minus the streaking.)

Nope, I mean squandered.

I had big plans, y’all. With the day off of work, I’d envisioned a lovely long run in the (not-too-early) morning, followed by an afternoon of leisurely errand-running or cookie-making or whatever sounded good. It would be the sort of day that blended productivity and relaxation in perfect proportions, causing me to sigh happily as I ate my (home-cooked) dinner and reflect on its loveliness.

So smug about this vision, I was, that I deliberately un-set my alarm as I went to bed on Friday night. Surely I would wake up naturally the next morning, fully rested and ready to go, at an appropriate time.

What actually happened was as follows.

At 7:25 AM, I awoke groggily, stirred by the sound of a kitty tongue methodically licking a plastic bag. (If you’re unfamiliar with this sound, consider yourself blessed.)

After finding the culprit and disposing of her slobbery prize, I checked my phone’s weather app.

Apparently my city was the bizarre calm spot in the center of a massive ring of rainy and stormy weather; surrounded on all sides by torrential rain.

You should go running now…like NOW, I told myself. A peek through the blinds confirmed that it was indeed dry outside. Obviously I had a window of opportunity here.

I shut the blinds and went back to sleep.

It was almost 10:30 by the time I dragged myself out of bed. Coffee brewing and bread in the toaster. The skies were still calm and gray.

I’m going to go running just as soon as I digest this toast, I vowed.

Noon came. It occurred to me that all of the people who had done their long runs in the morning were home and showered and enjoying a nice lunch right now. I poured another cup of coffee.

As the minutes ticked by, the run became the elephant in the room. Every half hour or so I glanced outside, half hoping to see a dangerous lightning-laced downpour so that I could finally just address this damn 18-mile run I’d planned and responsibly conclude that it was better to call it off.

But the sidewalks stayed dry.

The great thing about winter running is that, with nice cool weather, you can procrastinate your long run until mid-day if you want to. But the crappy thing about winter running is that at some point, you bump up against the early-setting sun.

So finally, around 2 PM, I decided I’d run out of excuses. I was quickly going to run out of daylight. I got my ass in gear. Naturally, as I was driving to the trailhead, it started raining.

I had the American Tobacco Trail all to myself…which isn’t surprising given the conditions, I suppose. Who the hell wants to spend a rainy Saturday afternoon running?

I’d planned to do 18 miles with a few miles at goal marathon pace, but I wasn’t feeling it today, so I just cruised easy. The gravel trail was waterlogged, making it very soft and soggy, which wouldn’t have made for a good pace workout anyway. And it would have been challenging to get going fast in these clodhoppers:

I got this pair of Brooks Adrenaline GTX last fall as a work freebie, but had never run in them until today. It’s basically the regular Adrenaline but with a Gore-Tex upper and a slightly burlier tread.

Overall, it’s not a bad shoe, but it’s definitely heavier and stiffer than what I’m used to. (The women’s Gore-Tex Adrenaline weighs in at 10.7 ounces, versus 9.4 for the regular version – and I usually run in the 9-ounce Ravenna or 7.5-ounce PureFlow.)

I will say that my toes stayed nice and dry, though! If I lived somewhere where I needed to slog though cold slush and snow on a regular basis, it would be a great shoe. (Brooks also makes a Gore-Tex version of the neutral Ghost.)

Anyway. 18 miles got done, and even though I bagged the tempo portion, my overall pace was right where I wanted it to be. I’m (optimistically) calling goal marathon pace 7:45 this time around, so 8:45 (60 seconds per mile slower) is just about perfect for a long run.

By the time I was pulling out of the park gates, the afternoon had ceded to a drizzly dusk. By the time I got home and showered, it was almost time for Jeopardy. This run pretty much dominated my day.

And that home-cooked dinner? It took the form of Ling-Lings’s Chicken & Vegetable Potstickers, fresh out of the freezer.

A Saturday wasted? Yep, pretty much.

At least the rain has stopped. If anyone wants to go streaking….

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Posted in Gear Reviews, Workout Recaps

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NAQ: bedtimes and schedules

Posted on January 20, 2012 by shelby| 16 Comments

Yesterday, I mentioned that, at 11 PM, I was still a couple of hours away from my normal bedtime and a few people actually asked about that.  Well, folks, I can take an idea and run with it. Sounds like it’s time for a NAQ* post!

[Please note that I'm posting this because my schedule is a slightly unusual and because I realize it's a little strange for a grown-ass woman to stay up so late and be such a lazy slob in the morning. But it works for me. I am not posting this to show you how busy I am and complain about how hard my life is. I'm not that busy and my life isn't particularly hard right now.]

Q: What time do you go to bed?

A: Usually between midnight and 2 AM. And I generally wake up between 7 and 9 AM.

Q: Why do you stay up so late? What’s wrong with you?

A: I prefer nights to mornings, and my current job rarely requires anything of me before 10 AM. Sometimes, I don’t have to be at work until 2 or 3 PM. It’s pretty awesome.

Q: What the hell kind of job is that?

A: I work at a running store.  I do the actual shoe fitting/selling thing and also do our store’s website and marketing, as well as helping out with events and training programs. Since we don’t open until 10 AM, I don’t need to wake up terribly early, even when I have to open. (But I do work a lot of evenings and most weekends.)

I love my job and am sad to be leaving it in a couple of months when we move to Atlanta.

Q: When do you run?

A: On days that I work the “morning” shift, I typically run in the afternoon/evening. On days that I work the “afternoon” shift, I usually run in the late morning, after a nice cup of coffee and breakfast, or at lunchtime. On days off, I run whenever, just as most people do on a lazy Saturday or Sunday.

I rarely run first thing in the morning unless I’m doing a long run or a morning “shakeout” run on a double day.

Of course, in the summer when it’s hot as balls, I have to shift my bedtime so I can wake up and run early in the morning. I hate the summer.

Q: WTF do you do when you’re burning the midnight oil?

A: It’s not that much extra time, really. I usually eat dinner around 9 PM, sometimes later.  If I’m working in the evening, I get home around 8:30. And at my husband’s old job, he worked long hours and was rarely home before 9 or 10 PM, so I’ve been in the habit of eating on the later side for a while.

By the time I finish dinner, clean up, and random chores, it’s usually 10 or 11. I watch TV, blog, and/or work on other writing projects for a couple of hours, then mosey to bed and read or dink around on my phone for a little while, until my eyelids get heavy and I shut the light off.

See? Not that much different than someone who eats dinner at 7 and goes to bed at 10:30.

Q: Is your husband on the same schedule?

A: He was, before his new job. He went to work at a normal time in the morning, but since his commute was a 5-minute walk, he didn’t have to wake up terribly early. We’ll see what happens once we get settled together in the same city. I have a feeling he’ll be on a more traditional schedule, and I still don’t know what my schedule will be, because I haven’t figured out what I’m going to be doing yet. (I should probably get on that.)

If I need to adjust to 6 AM wake-ups, I can do that. But it’s not my preference. I’m more relaxed, alert, creative and happy in the evening. I’m grouchy and unproductive in the morning.

Q: Just wait until you have kids.

A: I know. It’s one of the many reasons I fear I’d be an unfit parent. You should see how surly I get with my cats when they stomp around on the bed in the morning. And I can just kick them out of the room and go back to sleep.

Q: Are we done talking about this yet? I can’t believe I just wasted four minutes reading about your daily schedule.

A: All done. And this post was so quick to write – it’s only 11! I’ve got a whole evening in front of me…

*Never Asked Questions. Credit to: Marie, AR, and Sarah-who-doesn’t-have-a-blog-anymore. <3

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Posted in General Running Chatter, Writing Life

Back to the track: 8X800

Posted on January 19, 2012 by shelby| 10 Comments

The idea of a track workout in January is still a little weird to me. Shouldn’t the track be covered in ice? I guess I’m still not entirely used to living in the south.

But, hey – it was nearly 50 degrees today, I’ll take it. I pulled on my tights (I err on the side of caution when doing speed work in colder weather) and headed to the track for my first real speed workout since CIM.

Since I am marathon training yet again, I decided to ease in to things with a longish set of intervals – 8X800 – most of which were at a relatively mellow speed. In addition to waking up my legs and lungs, I hoped the set would be a good lesson in pacing.

Nailed ‘em. The biggest challenge of this workout was simply getting over the mental hurdle of running 4+ miles, on the track, by myself. Those last couple of 5K-paced repeats were a little tough, but other than that, I felt strong the whole time. And I logged a little over ten miles when it was all said and done.

Post-workout beer:

This one was…interesting. Dogfish Head Burton Baton is a blended beer: separately-brewed Imperial IPA and American Double IPA come together to age briefly in oak tanks before bottling, hence the “oak-flavored” designation. As someone who is generally a fan of oaky things (see: Chardonnay), I had high hopes.

Drinking this beer felt a little like drinking a sauna: it was dry, and very woody. I am also a fan of saunas so this wasn’t necessarily an issue for me, it was just different. No, what held me back from entirely enjoying this beer was the alcohol. At 10% ABV, it packs a punch, and I noticed it wafting off of my tongue with each sip and scorching my throat with every swallow. I don’t mind noticing the booze in a high-ABV beer, but this one was a little too hot for me.

It’s possible that I simply picked the wrong beer for the circumstances: I was tired and thirsty and probably should have reached for something a little less ambitious. Oh well.

Bottom line: It’s an interesting beer worth trying, but I didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would. (Purchased at Bottle Revolution, I think it was around $3.)

One thing that I’ve missed about track workouts is that they make me absolutely exhausted when bedtime rolls around.  It’s not even 11 PM – two hours before my normal bedtime – and I can barely keep my eyes open! I haven’t been sleeping very well lately, but I have a feeling I’ll be out like a rock as soon as my head hits the pillow. Which will be in about four minutes.

10 miles of running + 10% ABV = the beer runner’s Ambien.

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Posted in Beer Reviews, Workout Recaps

An update on Parker

Posted on January 18, 2012 by shelby| 18 Comments

It’s a rainy Tuesday night and I don’t have much else to talk about, so how about the latest dish on my cat’s urinary tract?

Try, please, to contain your excitement.

You can read about the whole ordeal with Parker and his bedazzled bladder here and here. Or allow me to summarize his issues for you, in order of gravity:

*His bladder makes more crystals than a Swarovski factory. The crystals the drift downward and eventually block his urethra. Bad shit, this is. Worst case it leads to death; best case, expensive vet bills.

*He is dehydrated. Seriously, I have never seen this cat drink water. We’ve tried every type of conceivable water-delivery device and he just has no interest. This almost certainly exacerbates the above.

*He is a fat ass. In the grand scheme of things this is a minor concern, but obesity doesn’t do anything beneficial to a cat’s projected lifespan, and given that a dietary overhaul was inevitably going to be part of the solution to the first two problems, it’s something I’ve been mindful of.

So we’ve been working to find a new diet/hydration regimen that keeps Parker crystal free, while being manageable for our other cat, Emmy, as well.

(She’s got some junk in her trunk, but she does rock some fierce supermodel cheekbones.)

According to our vet, we needed to feed Parker a food that would:

*Lower the pH level of his urine, creating an inhospitable environment for those pesky crystals;

*Encourage him to drink more; and

*Contain minimal amounts of certain things that can tend to promote crystal formation in some cats, including seafood/fish, magnesium, and ash.

Our vet’s proposed solution was to feed him a prescription cat food from Hills or Science Diet. Which I did for a while. But because I am one of Those Annoying Hypocritical Pet Owners who shops at the fancy pet store and frets about by-products in their animal’s food while happily chomping on a Quarter Pounder, I wasn’t thrilled about it.

In addition to being ridiculously expensive, it peeved me that this food was full of low-quality ingredients and (TMI kitty warning) made trips to the litter box room-clearing events.

So, on the suggestion of several people (including commenter Crystal – thanks!), I decided to switch him to a more “natural” food that contained a minimal number of ingredients and use a supplement to deal with the pH issue.

This is what we’ve been doing for the last two months, and it seems to be working. The supplement is from Wysong and is designed to promote acidic urine (the same thing the prescription food does). The food is from Weruva; it’s grain-free and fish-free and looks just like canned chicken:

(And I have now posted a picture of cat food on my blog. The show has reached a new low, people.)

Neither the food or the supplement is exactly dirt cheap, but even combined it’s less expensive than the prescription food. I mix in the supplement (which looks and smells like a crumbled chicken boullion cube) and then add a whole bunch of water to the bowl. It’s soup for dinner! And breakfast too!

He is forced to drink the liquid to get to the food.  The smart-ass has figured out how to flick the water out of the bowl with his tongue to get rid of it more quickly, but he has to consume at least some of it.  (Emmy gets the same thing but without the supplement mixed in.)

Knock on wood: it’s worked well so far. We’ve been having his urine tested every few weeks and he’s come back clean every time. (And bonus – he’s down almost a pound! To nineteen!) If the crystals come back, of course, I’ll get over my first world problems and just feed him the prescription food, even though it contains rotten pork toenails or whatever.

I hope this post doesn’t come across as holier-than-thou; that’s really not my intention. I just don’t like paying an arm and a leg for cat food that contains crappy ingredients. And I really don’t like dealing with stinky poop. Searching on the web and asking around over the last few months, I was surprised at how many people had been in the same situation – having a cat with urinary issues requiring a special diet yet wanting to feed a high-quality food – so I thought I’d share our experience (so far).

In any case, it’s an evolving process. For example, Emmy is a kibble nibbler and getting her to eat on a schedule and eat wet food exclusively has been a long and failed process, so I’m looking for ways that we can re-introduce a limited amount of dry food into their collective diet and keep everyone happy.

Anyway, that is my Parker update.

Today was a long day at work and I am patting myself on the back for making a real dinner (sort of) instead of copping out and eating snacky stuff:

Baked panko-crusted chicken tenders and frozen sweet potato fries. And I tried to be responsible and eat a salad…

…but then I ate an irresponsible amount of goat cheese. Oh well, I tried.

Off to bed, as I’ve got a kitties to snuggle and a track workout planned for tomorrow morning. Night!

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Posted in Crazy Cat Lady

Overheard on the strip

Posted on January 16, 2012 by shelby| 5 Comments

Exhausted-looking mom: “Is that what you think parents are for? To carry your stuff?” Toddler-sized daughter: “Yes.” (At least she’s honest!)

Twenty-something girl, talking on phone: “No, that’s not what herpes looks like.” (Congratulations?)

Creepy old dude, to me: “You’re in Vegas! Why are you jogging?”

Good question.

I’m going to be honest here: I spent most of Saturday in the hurt box. Worth it for a fun Friday night? Absolutely, but it’s always a little embarrassing to be that one person in the group who is mysteriously missing the next day.

Around 3 PM, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and go for a little run. I’m not a huge fan of running on the strip, but I’m also not a huge fan of paying the ridiculous fees that most Vegas hotels charge for gym use.

Up and down the staircases, through the throngs of people…five miles later, I felt like a new person. Just in time to do it all again.

Sunday, I decided to splurge on a massage, and thus was granted access to the hotel’s gym. Another detoxifying afternoon run! I’m pretty happy that I managed to stay on track with my training through a weekend of partying.

Oh, and those heels? I lasted all of twenty minutes in them. Seriously. I may or may not have walked around barefoot for a good portion of the evening.

About to board a flight home…happy MLK day!

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Posted in Travel, Weekly Running Recap

The thing about race bling

Posted on January 13, 2012 by shelby| 21 Comments

So you may have seen this post on Megan’s blog, guest-written by Sarah, formerly of the Washington Ran Here blog (RIP).

In a nutshell: the author argues that the distribution of medals to all race finishers, regardless of place, has created a culture of entitlement and materialism in the running community. Medals should be reserved for winners, not finishers. The “also-rans” should be happy with a pat on the back and painful memories.

I was excited to read this post, because I love Sarah. She’s a good friend, a solid runner, and a great writer. And I miss her blog dearly.  Her trademark no-bullshit style nearly always resonates with me.

But…this medal thing? I just can’t bring myself to get my panties in a bunch about it. So your local marathon wants to hand out thousands of pieces of molded aluminum to every person who sprints, runs, jogs, or crawls across their finish line. That’s their prerogative.

Maybe I’m being too literal here, but I don’t think any innocent bystander loitering around the finish area of a distance race would be genuinely confused about how so many people could have simultaneously won the race. Like it or not, the finisher medal has become a totally normal part of mainstream distance running over the last couple of decades. It’s a reward, not an award.

Now, I’ll admit that I don’t understand the people who go ape-shit for the crazy fancy medals. Medals that sparkle! Medals that glow! Medals with weird internal cutouts housing mini-medals that twirl around! Those last ones, in particular, totally make me think of cars with souped-up rims. They spinnin’, they spinnin’. Not my style, but hey…if other people are in to it, whatever.

And let’s face it: in the grand scheme of stupid shit that people collect, race medals are fairly innocuous. At least they symbolize an event in which the collector actively took part, and presumably devoted a good deal of time and energy preparing for. Much less ridiculous than that stupid souvenir shot glass you might be tempted to buy just so you can remind yourself that you spent an afternoon at the Buffalo Zoo every time you pour yourself some vodka.

I imagine that for most marathon finishers – myself included – the medal serves simply as an occasional reminder of the experience. And for those of us who are now several years removed from some of those races, it’s kind of a nice thing to have.

I’m currently in that early and unhurried stage of moving where I’ll start to pack a box and then become so engrossed in its would-be contents that I end up pouring myself a glass of wine and spending the rest of the evening reminiscing. That’s exactly what happened a couple of weeks ago as I was rooting through a random bin containing, among other things, the medal from my very first marathon: twelve years ago, when I was nineteen.

Even though it was a small race, I definitely did not win. And the race itself was anything but epic or even particularly meaningful, from a running standpoint. (It was my junior year of college and I was doing a “Semester in Washington DC” program, which forced me to miss a season of cross-country, so I decided I’d just run a marathon instead.) But I’m glad they gave me that medal. Touching it for the first time in a decade took me back to an exciting and formative period in my life. My first time living in an apartment on my own. My first time on the east coast. My first time running 26+ miles. 

It’s easy to say that we should all cheerily depart from our milestone race (and life) experiences with a slap on the butt and the memories. But the older I get, the more I appreciate the little objects that help me remember.

I mean, I guess it doesn’t have to be a medal, but…that seems to be the standard these days, so I’ll take it.

But, really: if a race were to give out finisher’s ribbons, would that be less offensive to the purists? What about that Nike race that gives out finisher’s necklaces? Is it the act of giving one token – the same token – to everyone that finishes, regardless of their time/rank? Or is it that it’s a medal?

I guess I just feel like the whole thing is sort of arbitrary to begin with. People put a lot of time and money in to doing a race. As part of that, they get a keepsake. No one is operating under the illusion that it’s anything but. We’re not all winners; we’re just all people that showed up here and ran the prescribed distance and got a trinket.

And that’s why I cannot get worked up about finisher medals. If you want to throw it in the trash along with your stale bagel and squished banana, fine. If you want to shove it in a shoebox, fine. If you want to hang it on one of those custom hanger things, fine. If you want to place it around your cat’s neck and watch him do the moonwalk across the living room, trying to rid himself of it, fine.

If you want to get surly about how these damn kids and their medals are ruining your sport because it ain’t like the old days when only winners and heroes got that shit, and also GET OFFA MY LAWN, well…that’s fine, too! I understand where you’re coming from. I just don’t think it’s a battle worth fighting.

Wow, this got long. If you made it through this post you deserve a medal.

Just kidding. I’m not that easy.

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Posted in General Running Chatter

Two new pairs

Posted on January 12, 2012 by shelby| 25 Comments

For the couple of years that my husband was in business school in Boston, I suffered from an off-and-on inferiority complex. (Warning: #firstworldproblems ahead.)

It didn’t really have anything to do with the fact that I was a mere “partner” in a social set of highly intelligent and ambitious people, most of whom scored about a zillion points on on their GMAT and had probably made more money in their pre-MBA working years than I’d make in a decade.  Nor did it bother me to be – as I was, having moved to Boston from Cleveland – an odd-out midwesterner in a sea of New England pedigrees.

Nope…my husband’s classmates were charming and delightful people, and although I kind of wanted to hate them for being so smart and attractive and successful, I just couldn’t. I made fast friends with many of them.

(It probably helped that I could totally hang when it came to drinking. When there’s a race to the bottom, I’m usually a frontrunner.)

Anyway, no, my occasional bouts of insecurity stemmed from the silly fact that my jeans were all…bootcut and shit.

Come back to 2007 with me, please. Bootcut jeans and pointy pumps. That’s what the cool kids were wearing in Ohio. (Well, actually, in Ohio it was considered perfectly acceptable to wear a hoodie and sneakers out on the town…a sentiment with which I still don’t entirely disagree.)

But in Bahhhhston, it was all skinny jeans and ballet flats and leggings and tunics and other trendy things that I did not, at the time, own. In my shorter fitted shirts and flare-leg pants, I felt like kind of a relic.

“You look great,” my husband would tell me, as we got ready to head out to any one of the countless social functions we attended each week.

“I look like a fucking antique,” I’d moan. And then I’d give up and slip into a good old hoodie and sneakers. If I was going to look like crap anyway, I might as well be comfy.

Looking back, I kind of roll my eyes at myself. Obviously, I wasn’t as comfortable with myself back then. Now, five years later, I’ve owned the fact that I’m just not a fashionista; on most days you’ll find me in a sports bra and running shoes. It’s fine. It’s sporty…or something. It’s me.

But occasionally, the complex returns.

This weekend, I’m headed to Vegas for a reunion weekend with my husband…and fifty of this MBA classmates.

Today, I thought about starting to pack. I stared at the small clump of dresses hanging among the hoodies and sweaters in my closet; I eyed the dusty little pile of scuffed-up “fancy” shoes, pretty much abandoned these days, but for the occasional wedding.

It was time for a little something new.

Nude pumps. Shiny nude pumps. With just a little bit of that stripper-platform thing going. Apparently this is what the cool kids are wearing now. Hopefully they are also wearing Ace bandages, because that it what I’m going to be sporting after I sprain my ankle.

So just in case, I’m also packing these…

New Brooks PureFlow colors! Now, you can’t tell me that’s not a hell of a pretty shoe. And functional, too!

Remind me…what’s so wrong with hoodies and sneakers?

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Posted in Not a Fashion Blog, Thirtysomething Angst