Recipe Fails

Recipes aren't perfect. I find that all the time. Most times it's not a deal breaker situation. My dad always says that about homemade bread. Even if it's not perfect, it's never really bad enough to throw away.

But these recipes were just serious fails. I had such high hopes for each one, but as you'll see, they either didn't turn out at all, tasted - well - terrible, or flopped into a mess of chocolatey goodness.

Spicy Roasted Broccoli Penne

One shortcut might have been my downfall for this one. I adapted this recipe from Eat Well, a beautiful Williams-Sonoma cookbook. The recipe calls for making your own garlic bread crumbs, but I decided to use the Panko breadcrumbs I had in my pantry. Unfortunately, when I mixed it all together, the breadcrumbs turned into this weird mushy paste that was pretty gross.

I ate some because I needed dinner, but I didn't save the leftovers. Didn't really want to experience that gluey texture again, and it would probably be worse after reheating it.

Next Time:  Eat some garlic bread on the side. Nix the breadcrumbs completely. Maybe make it a little more saucy.

Vegan Chocolate Nutella Cookies

Look tasty, right? Yeah not so much. I adapted these from Jenna's Vegan Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookies - which I'm sure are delicious. I was desperate for a cookie one Sunday afternoon, but I was leaving for the week the next morning and didn't want to grocery shop. No eggs? No butter? Cookie craving? That equals vegan cookie experiment in my kitchen.

I used Nutella instead of peanut butter and honey instead of maple syrup. I ate a bite of one and they were not delicious. Aren't cookies supposed to be sweet and moist? I decided to take another bite to give it a chance (and to try to quell my cookie craving) but it just wasn't going to happen.

Next Time: Get your ass to the store and buy some butter. Remember that vegan recipes are finicky and that you should follow them exactly as they are written.

Melty Chocolate Nutella Cake

Holy yum. I was so freaking excited about this recipe. Part of the reason I wanted to make it was because I'm always trying to figure out more ways to work Nutella into baking, but also because Matt loves molten cakes. I adapted this from Joy the Baker's recipe in Sunset Magazine, and I assumed that since she said you could substitue the peanut butter for bourbon that I could substitute the peanut butter for Nutella.

Maybe I was just over-eager, maybe I didn't trust my instincts, but the recipe says to pull it out when the sides of the cake are cooked and pulling away from the ramekin and the center has a shiny surface. I thought that's what I did but alas - I had a puddle of Nutella fudge on my plate.

Yes, I ate it. With a spoon. It was so delicious.

Next Time: Cook it longer! That's it! Patience, Katie!

I'm really happy that these all turned out the way they did because for every recipe that fails, I learn something else, and then I know how to make it work.

Except for those vegan cookies. It's going to take a really convincing vegan for me to cut eggs and butter out of my baking.

Special Guest Post: Lee's First Half Marathon

Lucky for you all I got a short note in my inbox this week with the following post attached. I say all the time that I would love it if people submitted guest posts - about running, life, funny encounters with people in the grocery store. Dad took me up on my invitation and decided to write a race recap of his own.

Spoiler Alert: He might consider running another half marathon. That's a win in my book.

Hello, Lee here.

Thought you should get a fuller picture of Saturday’s events, from one who was there.

5 am:  Alarm is set for 5:30, but I can’t sleep.  Angsting over what shirt, shorts, shoes, and warm up to wear.  Get up.

Pre-race:  Things are coming together nicely.  Nothing unexpected hurts (the over 40 readers will understand this comment.) Vince and Mimi arrive early, we leave on time.  Traffic is a breeze and we get where we need to be with nary a hitch.  Runners depart for the port-a-john lines.  They aren’t pretty, or fragrant (see earlier post about the unglamorous parts of running).  No time for the OAR tent, so we ditch our warm ups to be collected for the homeless. 

We find our “corral.”  Apt choice of words.  I learned that big races now employ “wave” starts, sending faster runners out before slower runners, using computer chips on shoes to keep accurate time.  Estimating a 2 hour time, we are in Corral 13, out of about 4,000, it seemed.  Moo.  Lots of colorful costumes, mostly green, and a lot of fidgeting with iPods, gear, numbers, and the like.  Not many people with grey hair here in Corral 13.  I do find one middle aged guy, who readily admits to being 56.  He doesn’t expect to medal today, but he has before.  Yeesh.  Wrong guy to ask.

The Start:  Really cool – cameras on swinging booms, loud music, an announcer with the marathon world record holder (I’m pretty sure I heard him call to me “nice stride!”).  It has taken us twenty minutes since the Start to make it to the Starting line.  Vince, also targeting 2 hours, has left Corral 9 to join us.  What a mensch.

Mile 1:   Ten minute pace.  Slow, but not surprising.  We’ll go faster when the crowd thins.  (foreshadowing)

Kate's training for Miss America next. NBD.

Mile 2:  Nine minute pace, feeling good.  Katie elbows an overly aggressive female runner in the sternum, and feels good about it.  I’m so proud.  (This last part is fiction.  Actually, Katie gets jostled by a dopey woman wearing headphones who seems oblivious to the fact that 20,000 other people are running with her.  Races seem to attract hoards of these inconsiderate runners.  Katie does  curse at her like a truck driver, which does  make me proud.) We run past Union Station, and Vince is prattling on about the architecture, not because he is worldly, but because he studied it in eighth grade in suburban DC.  I reply that I went to middle school in Rome, NY, and am far better equipped to discuss Governor DeWitt Clinton dedicating the Erie Canal.

Mile 3: We turn on to Constitution Ave, and see our personal cheering section for the first time.  We all look beautiful.  So does the Mall.  One thing about living in DC, it’s easy to take for granted the beauty of this place, and what a spectacular place it is to run.  On a clear, bright almost-Spring day, I’ve never seen anything like it.  Luckily, I happened to look around during this stretch, and I smiled.

Mile 4: (don’t despair, I don’t intend to write about each mile)  We head up 18^th Street to Connecticut Avenue.  “Up” being the operative term.  Driving a V-6 with 300+ horsepower, it seems pretty flat, but from Constitution to Dupont Circle is a serious, long hill.  Today, it’s also the best part of the course, with big, enthusiastic crowds, rock bands, and some boom boxes – one playing “Born to Run”.  We are feeling pretty great.

Mile 6: We spot our buddies Tim and Mo just past Dupont Circle.  They are there to cheer on their daughter Kaitlin, running a half just a few months removed from surgery on both hips.  Total Beast Mode.  They also have the coolest homemade sign for Katie and me, now proudly on display in our family room.  Hard to find friends like that.

Mile 8:  Almost two-thirds through the race, we reach the highest point on the course.  It’s still remarkably crowded, and I am cursing myself for not training on more hills.  Katie has been hurting for a while from her Crohn’s, which is painful and unpredictable and frustrating and exhausting and….

It was around this time that I contemplated the possibility that we wouldn’t finish.  Remarkably, Kaitlin wasn’t the only Domer woman in Beast Mode that day, and Katie channeled her inner-Jillian and finished strong.  When asked later how she did it, the girl said, “I just told it to stop.”  She’s my hero.

From Mile 8.5 on, the course guide said it was mostly downhill.  Beware the modifier.  We sailed down 5^th Street, turned left past a really cool building that happened to be the Howard University Water Pumping Station (which follows immediately after the White House on the tour of DC architecture), and then headed down North Capital Street to another spectacular vista.  Looking down the hill, we can see that the course is still incredibly crowded with runners!

Mile 10:  Just past the mile marker, we have our second siting of our beautiful fans, and head into Northeast DC.  Katie thanks a sign-holder shouting “Go Katie,” but grudgingly acknowledges that she might not be the Katie for whom the lady is cheering.  This realization is hard for Katie.

Race note:  Experts will tell you that first time runners need to train to 10 or 11 miles to prepare for a half marathon, and that “the adrenaline will carry you through the last three miles.”  I will tell you that this advice is, in a word, baloney.  Any adrenaline I had was spent around mile 4, and from then on, it was all will power.  And by the way, nobody tells you that races are harder than training.  You run on unfamiliar ground, you need to bob and weave among the other runners, and you must frequently change speeds and strides, making it almost impossible to get into a relaxed running rhythm.  Train past the distance, and run the course before the race if you can.  For me, familiarity breeds confidence. 

I had trained to 11.5 miles, and I was unprepared for the last couple miles of the race, especially the completely nasty and unnecessary half-mile long rise to the finish.  I didn’t finish strong, but my training partner hung with me, and we finished together.  She did a sweet jump at the finish, and I merely stayed upright. 

“I’ll wait for you; if I should fall behind, wait for me.” – Bruce Springsteen 

Later, we toasted with some of the best tasting Guinness ever.  Some runners finish a half, and immediately start planning for a marathon.  I am not one of those runners.  13.1 miles is a long way.  Will I do another half?  Maybe, with the encouragement of a great training partner. 

Thanks, Kate.

Love,

Dad

Birthday Love

Today I'm 23, and I feel so blessed, lucky and loved.

I'm so blessed that the Midwest decided to be unseasonably warm so that I can sit on my balcony and read a book on my birthday.

I'm so lucky to have a wonderful roommate who brings me sunflowers to my basement office.

I feel so loved when I get fun birthday video clips from old friends in the middle of the day.

Thanks everyone for making me feel so special today. The e-mails, text messages, phone calls, and wall posts. I wish you could all celebrate with me and I could give you the big hug you deserve, and then we could all sit on my balcony and drink delicious beers on this warm March evening. 

Rock 'n' Roll National Half Marathon Recap: Part I

We did it!

That's the kind of sign you get when you are very open with how much you love Jillian Michaels.

We finished the National Half Marathon!

And it was really fun. Are you ready for some play-by-play action of Saturday morning? You better be 'cause it's comin' atcha right now.

Part I at least.

I rolled out of bed and I was - as expected - nervous, excited, and sleepy. Waking up on race morning is surprisingly similar to the feeling of waking up the mornings when I had to hand in a big paper that I stayed up perfecting the night before.

My plan to eat my egg sandwich was only thwarted by the fact that I was not hungry. AT. ALL. While I was pacing around the kitchen and doing bicycle crunches trying to rev my stomach up to be a little bit hungry, Dad says to me, "See, this is the best part about being a guy. I have no problem eating when I'm not hungry."

I compromised with myself and made my egg sandwich while slurping down some coffee, and then brought it to eat in the car on the way to the race. I ate about half of it.

Hey guys! Thanks for letting me crash your race day photo!

After my dad lamented not tailgating the race (great idea dad) and we attached our bibs and time chips, we walked up to Charity Village to check out the Organization for Autism Research tent and use the bathrooms.

The lines were crazy long. This was only a small taste of how nuts the crowds were for the entire race.

I know the Capitol is pretty, but look at the pack of runners!

We got off to a good start - we hovered around a 9:50 - 10:00 min/mi pace for the first mile, but that was to be expected when the corrals were still really tight. 

We managed to get to a 9:00 min/mi for the second and third mile, but it was still crazy crowded. But through the crowds, we were able to spot my mom and Liza!

"Hey! Mom! Mom! We're here!"

And guess what Liza was holding so that I could find her?!?!

NICE PANTS

Nothing like NICE PANTS to find people in a crowd. Remember?

We made the turn onto Constitution and the course widened out so it seemed as if the pack was going to disperse some. But the stretch on Constitution only went about a mile and a half and then we were all funneled back onto 18th Street.

Then the hills started. But despite the constant up and down for the middle 5 miles, it was a really fun part of the race. Running under Dupont Circle was almost surreal - the band was stationed up on Dupont and there were huge crowds of fans cheering all along the railings as we ran through the tunnel.

The music and the fans gave me a huge adrenaline rush and I really wanted to push our pace around mile 6, but bobbing a weaving through the hoards of runners while still running with my dad was pretty tough.

And then at mile 8, my Crohn's got angry. Like, "Child, please. You're running a half marathon?! You have got to be joking me - just quit it."

This is me. Looking angsty and running. Hot, I know. As you can see in the right side of the photo, my dad is making sure that I am not going to die.

Yes my Crohn's got all kinds of sassy with me. Cramping, pain, grumbling.

And I got upset. Like hard to breath upset. In trying to find a bathroom, feeling like I was letting my dad down, and well, running, I got worked up.

I found a bathroom. Took a deep breath, and told my Crohn's to shut up.

It didn't shut up completely, but it shut up enough for me to finish running. At mile 10 we saw my mom and sister again, and I knew seeing them would push us through the last 3 miles.

But as you can see, we were still running with A TON of people. At mile 10. Normally at mile 10 there are a few people to keep me honest, but by then I've at least found my groove. We never found a groove in this race.

After that we trudged through the last 3.1 miles. It was hot (well, comparatively to the weather I trained in), we were tired, and it was crowded.

At mile 12.5 we could see the finish line, and there were crowds all along the fences. But it seemed as though there were silent. And then I got angry. I think something along the lines of, "Let's get a cheer for the runners!" came out of my mouth. I wanted some encouragement, dammit!

As we were making the final bend, my dad stopped and said, "Go without me. I'm having some intestinal issues."

TMI? I talk about this stuff on the blog all the time. Stomach issues are a part of the deal.

I stopped and said something like, "No way, we're finishing together."

And we did!

When I crossed the finish line I wanted to really ham it up and go for a sweet pic. All I got was some crazed contorted faces and the before and after of my ups.

Before.

After.

Official finish time: 2:09:41. Not too shabby for all of the angst and bathroom searching. And hey! Dad got a solid PR!

Want some of my analysis of what went down Saturday? Believe me - there has been plenty. Part II is coming up soon! 

Staring Race Day in the Face

Race Day is upon us. About eight hours from now, my alarm will go off and all of this training will be put to the test.

I'm anxious excited about tomorrow because I know that I put in all of the work to not only finish the race, but to meet our sub-2 hour finish time goal. Tomorrow I'm just going to tell my brain and my stomach to shut up and let my legs do all of the work.

Yesterday my Dad and I were coincidentally buisness travel buddies and were on the same flight from Atlanta to DC. We're awesome - nbd. And then we were conicidentally sitting next to each other on the plane. I'm hoping that these positive coincidences flow over into tomorrow morning.

After we landed at Reagan National, we went straight over to the Expo to pick up our our packets and our race numbers. I had never been to a race day expo. It was as if Runner's World threw up on the DC Armory.

There were booths for every type of running gear imaginable. From Garmin GPS watches to Gu Chomps to Newton running shoes. I was seriously overwhelmed. Why are you taunting me with all of this cool new gear when what I really need to do is stick with what I'm comfortable with on race day???

After we left the Armory, Dad and I decided to drive the route of the race.

I was anxious about running a race with a route that was essentially a surprise around every corner. I've done that before but it's the worst feeling when you think that you are finishing a race only to find out there there's one last hill you have to run up.

It's extremely reassuring to do a turn-by-turn dress rehearsal of the race. Now I know that the first 3 miles are flat and easy, the next 3 or 4 miles are a bit hilly once we get to Connecticut Ave and the Adams Morgan area, but then the last 3 or 4 miles are basically all downhill.

I also have my whole gear situation decided on now. Tomorrows routine is strategically planned in my mind.

Wake up. Put on race day outfit.

Shorts. Neon tank (naturally). New Balance Minimus Road 10. Body Glide. Garmin. Energy fruit snacks for mile 6.

Brush teeth, deodorize, make sure my headband holds all of my hair out of my eyes.

Mosey downstair and make my pre-race breakfast - one egg on a whole wheat english muffin.

Get to RFK and find the Organization for Autism Research charity tent.

Did I mention that you all helped me surpass my fundraising goals by $100?? Thank you so much! I'm so thrilled.

Once we get to the race, I'll use the bathroom, keep drinking water, and shake out the nerves in my legs. I'll re-tie my shoes, and make sure my chip timer is attached securely.

My other strategy for tomorrow is that it is going to be close to 75 degrees tomorrow, but early in the morning it might be chilly. The plan is to bring a crappy long-sleeved t-shirt that I never wear anymore, start the run wearing it, but as soon as it gets too hot I can just ditch it on the course and not feel bad about ever getting it back. Goodbye junior retreat t-shirt with the weird bleach stains! It's been real.

Oh yeah. I'm going to run 13.1 miles too.

All there is to do now is get a good night of sleep! If anyone wants to have Guinness waiting for me at the finish line I would be more than grateful. I'm also planning my finishline pose for the cameras. Get ready for some serious cheesing.

Last Long Run: Lessons and Questions

I successfully completed my last long run before the National Half Marathon next weekend.

I felt pretty good, but I was definitely aiming for an 11 mile run that hovered around an average pace of 9:05 with no stomach pain so that I had a huge confidence boost leading into this week.

That didn't happen. My stomach was obviously angry with me because I fed it a weird combination of leftover Roasted Vegetable Tacos and an apple with Nutella for dinner the night before, and my feet started revolting against my new shoes* around mile 6.

To make sense of what went wrong and what I'm worried about next weekend, I've broken down my run into "Lessons" and "Questions". The lessons are things that I've learned and things that I know how I want to correct. The questions are things I'm still unsure about and the concerns I have leading up to race day.

*Yes, these are different from the shoes I posted about previously. I ended up not liking those and when I thought that I could just return them, I was told that I had to exchange them for another pair. Unfortunately, the store I bought them at doesn't carry the shoes I really love - my New Balance Minimus Road shoes.

Love Your Shoes.
I love these shoes. I also know that they are the same shoes I was running in when all of my running pains started happening. I think that scared me away from them, but for the last 5 miles of my run yesterday, I was wishing that I was wearing these and not their clunkier competitor.

Lesson: Don't try to run a long distance in a shoe you're not totally comfortable with.

Question: Which shoe should I run the Half in? I'm nervous that if I wear my New Balances my tendon issues might get aggravated during the race, but I also don't want to lace up with the Brooks knowing that I don't love them.

Know Your Loop.
Yesterday I also went out with the intention of doing a double loop of a 5mi route that I know I like, but I didn't clock it out in advance. Shockingly, doing a 5 mile loop twice does not add up to 11 miles. So when I finished the first loop and realized that my watch read 4.96 miles, I knew I'd need to add an extra mile into the second go-around, which included me running around the Capitol square like a dingbat many times.

Lesson: Clock your route - the entire thing - before you go to run it.

Question: When you run big races, do you check out the course first? Like, going there and running around to get a feel for it? When I did the half marathons in college, I essentially trained on the course so race day was never a surprise. But when I did my two other halfs, I didn't have the opportunity to check out the course since I traveled the day before the races since they were, in a sense, "destination races".

Eat Food.
The other big wildcard for any given race day is fuel.

This is a standard breakfast for me - oatmeal with some dried cranberries, almonds, and a brown sugar. And yes, coffee. Always coffee.

However, when I do my runs during the week, I never eat before I go. Which was another mistake I made yesterday. I woke up early and was out the door by 8 to be as true to a race-day simulation as possible, but I didn't put any food in my body before. Which I'm thinking contributed to blinding pains in my stomach around mile nine which was likely a cry for help due to intense hunger.

Lesson: Eat breakfast.

Question part a: But what? I've tried almost everything from Kashi Go Lean to the random granola bar I got out of the vending machine in the student center at 7am before the first half marathon I ever ran. But I've never been thrilled with any of my fuel choices.
Question part b: How do you fuel during the race? I've tried bringing cereal with me because Gu freaks me out (my stomach also rumbles angrily just thinking about it), but cereal is pretty hard to eat while running, and then it kind of lingers in your mouth, even with water.

My latest bright idea, which is inspired by Gu Chomps - the gummie snack version of Gu Gel - is to bring regular fruit snacks with me. Easy to eat quick calories that I know I like.

I'm going to try it this week. I'll keep you posted.

NOTE: With one week left until the race, I have $74 more dollars to raise to meet my fundraising goal for the Organization for Autism Research! 

If you would like to donate, click here  or on the link on the right side of the website. That means if 19 people donate $4 each, I will surpass my goal! How cool is that?!?! Thanks for all of your support!

There are so many boldfaced questions to answer in this post! 

I Miss Spring Break

It's understood that I love Wisconsin, right? I just wanted to make that clear.

I'm also not under any delusions that spring is right around the corner. The wind whipping off the lake this morning and freezing all four of my cheeks during my run crushed all of those silly dreams.

What I really need is Spring Break. A week of hanging out on a beach, waking up with warm sunshine peaking through the blinds, and the adrenaline rush of knowing that I have absolutely nothing to do but mosey out to the beach, set up camp with a chaise lounge, a cooler, a book, and a bottle of sunscreen.

So. Tan. Circa 2008.

I'm desperate for some sunshine. I experience indescribable, completely unique happiness that comes from having the sun warm my skin, and then to walk inside even after only thirty minutes outside and notice that I managed to grab a hint of a tan.

I think the root of this problem is that I want what I can't have. I know myself well enough that as soon as there is a week when the average temperature is over 78 degrees I'm going to be jonesing for chilly days that call for scarves and yellow coats. My body temperature does not regulate well.

That's why I need Spring Break. An excuse to get my ass to a beach for four or five days and manage to read a book without feeling like I should be checking my e-mail. After that, I can hightail it back to reality with a goofy grin on my face after a few magical days when the only thing on my schedule was flipping onto my stomach so that my back is tan as well.

Margaritas are most certainly involved in this scenario. The margaritas in this scenario also manage to remain ice cold even while the sun is beating down on them.

Yes, there are multiple margaritas. For me. I might share if you put suncreen on that part of my back that I can't reach.

For those of you who have spring break right now or in the near future - Live. It. Up. Drink $1 Coronas at a side street bar in Cozumel. "Forget" to reapply your sunscreen so that you have a tanline to bring home as a souvenir. Take a walk on the beach barefoot. Read a real book so that the pages smell like the ocean forever. Go to the beach at night. Order dessert.

Or just order another margarita.

Sometimes We Have Hard Weeks

It happens. Life gets really...hard. Work is hard (they call it "work" for a reason), relationships are hard, decisions are hard.

But then you wake up and it's March 1st - the first day of the best month EVER (hi, upcoming birthday!)

You decide to put on your comfy pants - those boyfriend chinos you bought for $15 on jcrew.com like, a year and a half ago - and when you stuff your hand in the pockets to smooth them down you find a dollar in your pocket.

Then you decide to put that dollar to good use and buy some real coffee with it.

All this while wearing the happiest piece of clothing on the planet.

Hi, Yellow Coat. So happy to have you on this lovely first day of March. I mean, the day itself is not lovely, but the first day of March is always lovely.

Sometimes you just have to trust that someone is looking out for you - strategically putting dollars in your pockets when they know that life is hard. 'Cause sometimes a suprise dollar in your pocket is all you need to remind yourself that things will get easier, and that your yellow coat is hanging is your closet just waiting to make you a little happier.