Pack Rat

This hasn’t been a particularly interesting or blog-worthy week, but that doesn’t mean it’s been a week without highlights. Which might not be all that interesting, but it’s my blog and I’ll ramble pointlessly if I want to:

Individual boxes of chocolate almond milk + grapefruit season. Seriously, if the damned tiny boxes of milk weren’t $1.99 (I mean, really? Are these golden almonds we’re grinding into milk these days?) and grapefruits didn’t get juice all over the f-ing place (seriously, it’s taking me a hundred years to write this post because I keep reaching for grapefruit slices and then have to spend 25 minutes wiping juice off my hands…and lap…and couch) and I weren’t also training for a half marathon, requiring real legitimate carbs (poor me) and frivolous things like protein, I would be eating nothing else. And yes, that entire paragraph was one sentence. I <3 commas.

Half-marathon training. Despite a small setback in the form of a weird ankle tweak that has been bugging me over the past two weeks or so, I’m feeling a renewed enthusiasm for my training. This cycle is different in that I’m focusing a LOT more on strength training/power building with Mike and a little less on mileage. While it freaked me out a bit and I wasn’t necessarily comfortable with it at first, I am combining two things that aren’t easy for me: putting my trust in the hands of someone that I am confident (well, hoping) knows what they are doing and standing up for myself to make sure I’m comfortable. And today, our session was amazing.

We started with an intense progressive speed workout on the treadmill: starting at a comfortable pace (6.0 mph for me) and a 1.0 incline, increasing the speed by 0.1 mph every 30 seconds, decreasing the incline to 0.5 after five minutes and down to 0 after 8. It was super intense, but I felt amazing and strong afterwards. And then we moved into TRX, and some core work/push-ups, and then he tortured me by digging his elbows into all my muscles to loosen up the knots. It hurt oh so good.

Going away this weekend! Lauren, one of the first close friends I made in undergrad, is getting married in Houston on Saturday, so I’m heading down there on Friday afternoon. I couldn’t be more excited to catch up with Lauren (who I haven’t seen since graduation almost four years ago, which is not okay) and to spend some quality time with Rebekah, who I’ll be rooming with (huzzah for saving money on hotel rooms) for the occasion. I can’t wait to escape the city for a few days, do my long run in a new city (I’ve already researched running routes), find some quality Mexican food and/or BBQ, and celebrate the wedding of one of the coolest girls I know.

Let’s not even discuss how THIS is what a packing list looks like for a trip that won’t even last 48 hours:

Shoes. I spent a significant portion of my commute today trying to figure out how to make thousands of dollars fall out of the sky and directly into my checking account so I can buy these. Or these. Or these. Oh, shoes.

What are your highlights of this week so far? Anything I need to make sure I see, do, or eat in Houston? Suggestions on how to find cheaper individual boxes of chocolate almond milk? Designer shoes you’re coveting?

Mars and Venus

I’m currently sitting on my couch, watching Something Borrowed and browsing beautiful, beautiful shoes on mytheresa. I won’t be too explicit here lest I get some very, very strange search results directing towards my blog, but I must say, I feel like this is the girl equivalent of what most 25-year-old boys do with their laptops propped up in front of them.

Fashion Week Festivities

This certainly isn’t a fashion blog, but I think that through my sporadic outfit postings and “OMG I WANT THIS” posts mainly consisting of shoes and clothes, I’ve made it abundantly clear that in addition to running, pizza, and Netflix, fashion is a definite passion (rhyme!) of mine.

Which means two things. First, while I’ve only ever attended one fashion show in my life (this needs to change. Who wants to invite me next year?), New York Fashion Week definitely counts as a holiday on my calendar.

Some incredible looks from Derek Lam. Tell me these aren't worthy of some serious worship. (image via nymag.com)

And, second, I cringe a little to think that for me, Thursday, the last day of NYFW started with my looking like this:

Mmmm sweatpants. So sacrilegious.

I know I’m not, nor will I ever be cool/connected enough to really be a part of Fashion Week, but after a killer group workout class with Mike (floor swimming, high knees, squat jumps…ugh) and a full day of work, I got to celebrate the last day of NYFW at the Hipstamatic Made in America party.

The invitation described it as “an evening of visual storytelling” — Hipstamatic invited several American designers to use its Americana lenses to take pictures to tell their story, and then held a party to display the photography.

I'm not as good with Hipstamatic as I am with Instagram, but it does take some pretty impressive pictures. Love this greenish filter. I'm sure it has a real name, but I have no idea what it is.

I got to spend some quality time with Rebecca, Geoff and Mario and also made some new fabulous friends (is there any other kind at a Fashion Week party?) over miniature cupcakes, meringues, brownies and banana chips with delicious tomato dip (yes, in that order. Life is short, eat dessert first!)…

I ate approximately eleventy thousand of these.

 …a little live music…

I have no idea who this is, but he was very good. And cute. And approximately 12.

…more awesome photography…

…and of course, the two most important parts of any Fashion Week event: fabulous shoes…

Jimmy Choo x2 (taken with Hipstamatic). If only I had remembered to take a picture of my entire outfit! Clearly I am a terrible Fashion Week attendee.

…and an open bar.

While the party was incredibly fun, after three hours of standing on a concrete floor in four-inch heels, I was more than ready to turn back into a pumpkin, change into flats, and hop in a cab to my neighborhood diner, where Rebecca and I split a turkey burger and tuna melt to satisfy our protein cravings (What? Cupcakes and banana chips aren’t a balanced dinner?)…

…and sang Ryan Cabrera songs. I don’t know either.

After an exhausting night, (seriously, my legs were screaming all day yesterday), I was more than happy to spend Friday night sitting in my living room with my friends Francisco and Jae, drinking one of the bottles of wine I brought back from Napa (Terlato 2007 Devil’s Peak — SO AMAZING) and eating my weight in cheese and crackers.

Back to Instagram. I swear, one day I will learn how to really use Hipstamatic.

On tap for the weekend: a long run, a not-as-long interval run, lots of chores before heading to Houston next weekend for Lauren’s wedding (!!!), and drinks and dinner tomorrow night. Stay tuned for really exciting blog posts on all of the above, and of course, more gratuitous pictures of me covered in sweat.

A Bloody Good Weekend

While the temperature this weekend finally (sadly) dropped to seasonably appropriate levels, that didn’t stop me from having the highest-mileage weekend I have had in a long time, trying a new running group, checking out a new exhibit and bakery, and sampling the bloody marys at two different Upper East Side brunch establishments. Behold, some snapshots and images from the weekend…

Saturday's long run -- these splits don't show how miserable I was. It was snowing, and my left leg was super tight, and I almost quit at mile 3 and UGH this run was so horrible and sent me into a tailspin of "OH GOD WHAT IF I WILL NEVER BE ABLE TO RUN A HALF-MARATHON" panic.

Brunch with friends at Finnegans Wake, where I had the best corned beef hash I've ever had and a bloody mary...for $10. No words.

Trip to the Whitney Museum to see the Real/Surreal exhibit (photo via Whitney.org)

Peanut Butter Fudge Bar and coffee at Plenty Bakery (taken with Instagram)

Is it just me...or does this sign look like it's bleeding? Is "Order Your Balloons Now!!" a threat?? (taken with Instagram)

A homecooked dinner -- gingery broccoli and beef, from this recipe, knocking out my New Year's Resolution Monthly New Recipe early this month. Thanks to Tina for the tip!

New obsession. (via hulu.com)

All bundled up to join the Sunday morning running group at Athleta led by Laura! Running groups make me nervous, but everyone was super nice and the pace was perfect. I will definitely be back for more than a few of my Sunday recovery runs.

My warmup run to meet up with the group...followed by 4.1 miles, including hill repeats. Felt strong, even the day after 7 sucky miles. Definitely ready to kick this half-marathon's ass.

Rehydrating with Diet Coke and bloody marys at Baker Street...followed by a delicious burger and fries. (taken with Instagram)

Guilty pleasure afternoon, thank you Netflix! Note, friends: THIS IS NOT A COMEDY. But Bryan Greenberg and Scott Porter are really incredibly cute. (photo via collider.com)

NYRR Gridiron Race Recap

Considering that Mike and I had already decided that the NYRR Gridiron 4-Miler would be an “A” race that I would be aiming to PR, I certainly didn’t adhere to any “things you should/should not do the night before a big race” rules.

I went out…I wore heels…I drank (but limited myself to one two drinks)…I danced. A lot. And when I went to bed that night, I felt like my legs had been run over by a truck. Not exactly ideal pre-race conditions, but the next morning, I dragged myself out of bed anyway and got ready to race.

And by “got ready to race,” I mean I took full advantage of the football-themed race (yay, Super Bowl Sunday! In case you forgot, the Giants won) to wear eye black, because I knew I needed to keep my Giants t-shirt clean (well, relatively…I am superstitious, so I hadn’t washed it since the playoffs started) and couldn’t race in it, although team apparel was encouraged. I looked awesome.

And menacing!

So, all eye-black’d up, I stretched out my tired legs as best as I could, and headed to the park, dropped my bag at bag check, and met up with Rebecca to get into our corrals. She was actually seeded one corral behind me, but I was more than willing to stand with her, as I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to come even remotely close to the 35:54 PR I had set at the Race to Deliver in November.

No matter how much I say I don’t care if I have a bad race, I always spend my time in the corrals nervously babbling (if I’m with a friend — otherwise, I nervously talk to myself in my head) about the race, and how I think I can do that day, and trying to make myself feel better if I’m not feeling 100%. So I babbled to Rebecca about how I thought the Race to Deliver was a fluke, and I had no idea if I was going to be able to come remotely close that day. But before I knew it, we were off!

I am not in this picture. (via NYRR.org)

I have to say, this was the most crowded NYRR race I have ever run. NYRR.org says that there were over six thousand runners that day, and I felt like EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM was in my way. I’m not usually a huge stickler for race etiquette (although I try to follow it for the most part to avoid pissing anyone off), but even I was getting angry that day.

Runners definitely did not start in the correct corrals — I was in the 4000s (but started with the 5000s), and immediately found myself running with 7000s. More than a handful of people around me stopped to walk before we even hit the Mile 1 mark, and I was furious. I’m not such a serious runner that a little weaving is the end of the world for my time, but I definitely felt like it added a few seconds here and there, and I was not happy.

For the non-runners in the crowd, imagine the frustration of trying to navigate the too-narrow sidewalks of Lexington Ave. in midtown. At rush hour. When you’re running late. And have to pee. And it’s Monday. Are we all on the same page now?

But it went as well as any 4-mile race could — I was worried my first mile would end up too slow to PR because of the crowds, but it was right on target, and I felt strong. My legs loosened up quickly, and I picked up the pace a lot in Mile 2 because it was flat, slowed down a little bit on Mile 3 because of the west side rolling hills, then completely gunned it through Mile 4. By the time I passed the three-mile marker, my legs were definitely starting to get tired, but I felt strong enough to fight through the pain and finish the race in 34:43, PR-ing by 1:11!

My splits are a little wonky because my Garmin had me running 4.04 miles (thank you weaving!! Ugh.)…but huzzah to the max for negative splitting. LIKE A BOSS.

I finished the race feeling exactly how Rebekah always told me I should — like if I were going to be asked to hold that pace for a second longer, I would puke. It’s a horrible feeling, but also the best in the world when you’ve shattered a personal best and done what your body was previously completely incapable of doing.

After the race, I found Rebecca (who also had a minute-plus PR, rocking the race in 36:39), and we celebrated our PR’s in the only way we know how…by riding our runner’s high all the way to Pick-a-Bagel.

The holy grail of post-race food: whole wheat everything bagel, egg, and cheese. I am salivating just thinking about it, and it was a week ago. And Instagram makes everything look that much more delicious.

 

Drenched in sweat and eating carbs. My ideal state.

What a way to kick off the 2012 racing season! I know that eventually I’ll hit a plateau and stop PR-ing every race I do, but this feeling will never get old. And neither will the extreme bliss that comes with egg and cheese on a bagel, I’m sure.

It’s also possible I left the eye black on for the rest of the afternoon, wandering around Hell’s Kitchen and Chelsea. Where it’s also possible that we saw a woman have an extremely animated conversation with a fully-cooked rotisserie chicken before eating it. In a Starbucks. At 11 AM. 25 years of living in New York, and it’s still possible to see something new every day, I guess.

Quick Music Note

(Pun intended. Teeheehee.)

So, every hipster and their mustachioed brother is going apeshit these days over Gotye’s (f/Kimbra, whoever that is) “Somebody That I Used to Know.” Yes, it is an EXCELLENT song that I have had on repeat for many days, but I also feel a responsibility to spread the word that I finally allowed my Spotify to move onto other tracks on the album, and holy crap, does this album not suck. Dude can sing.

For reference, Gotye is pronounced “gore-ti-yeah.” (Who knew? I’ve been pronouncing it like, “Got ya!” because, well, in America we teach people to sound out words they don’t know. Although that doesn’t help when the word in question isn’t in English. Or when it’s one of those fun words like “read” that is pronounced two different ways based on tense/context. The important lesson here is that that rule is stupid and I love grammar.)

In case you have no idea what song I’m talking about…

And my other favorite song on the album…

What music are you loving this weekend?

Super Bowl Sunday Detox

Don’t get me wrong — I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE Super Bowl Sunday, particularly when it comes with a Giants victory. “Manning to Manningham!” have been my favorite three words all season, and they didn’t let me down on Sunday night either.

(image via wina.com)

However, I’ll admit that the combo of a nail-biting game and a borderline grotesque amount of food (think three slices of meatball pizza, meat and cheese dip, corn chips, guacamole, brownies, etc…oh, holy indigestion and grossness) left me both exhausted and with more than a bit of a stomachache (surprise. Just because I have the sports enthusiasm of a 17-year-old boy does not mean I have his energy levels or digestive system. Lesson learned).

So behold, my recipe for a successful Super Bowl detox:

1. Hit the gym for some low-impact cardio, because your legs are too tired from yesterday’s awesome 4-mile PR (more on that in a later post), and the smart decision is to take a day off running. Be that sketchy person in the gym sneaking pictures on your iPhone without including other people in them.

2. Watch Sportscenter!!! Yayyyyy Super Bowl highlights. Then switch to the elliptical, and watch more Sportscenter (disclaimer: this only works if you are a Giants fan, or at least, not a Patriots fan. If you didn’t want the Giants to win, maybe position yourself in front of the TV playing CNN. Or go for a run outside and avoid all media contact completely).

3. Listen to some really, really great workout music.

4. Hit the mats for some push-ups and planks. Pretend you are training for the Super Bowl (oh, the mental tricks one needs to be motivated for strength training at 6:30am). Continue taking sketchy pictures.

4. Come home, shower, and make the wholest-of-whole foods/cleanest-of-clean-eating breakfast: Quaker Oats made in almond milk with blueberries and half a grapefruit. Congratulate yourself for actually using the stove before 8 AM and getting in TWO servings of fruit at breakfast.

5. Sit on the couch to watch Sportscenter again. Remember that this is why DVR is worth the extra $5 you pay every month, because you can watch the Manning-to-Manningham catch over and over again. Same disclaimer as Step 2 here. Realize you are now running 10 minutes late. #supermario

6. Take your gummy vitamins and drink lots of water out of a pint glass with a giant crab/lobster (unsure) on it. Because you are a grown-up.

7. Drink a lot of liquid to flush out all the grossness, and follow it with a lunch consisting of whole grain pita, turkey, and a zillion different kinds of fruits and vegetables (lunch not pictured).

…then embark on a three-day company meeting that, while incredibly motivating and interesting, contained lots of heavy meals and mindless candy/brownie eating…leading to this post going up three days late and requiring detox to start all over again tomorrow. Sigh.