Azerbaijan, aka We Made it to Absurdistan!

After a 15-hour train ride (which was all fun and games and midnight train car dance parties until they turned off the AC at 2am and I fainted), our group finally arrived at the inspiration for this entire trip: Baku, Azerbaijan. 

This once cosmopolitan capital on the Caspian is today a bizarre combination of old Azeri culture, early 20th century Italian architecture, Soviet Union utilitarianism, and Dubai-esque super-modernism. 

We're here in a large part because my friends all read a book called Absurdistan, based in a fictional post-Soviet country inspired by Azerbaijan's capital city. (I read the book too; it was definitely absurd, though to be honest I wouldn't recommend it.)

Overall, however, this strange outpost of Baku is far nicer than expected! The aforementioned Kyle has lived here for a year studying language, so we stayed at his apartment. He showed us around the city center, which, with its fountains and walkways and parks, appears totally normal (seriously, it could be LA). 

However, despite "normal" appearances, things are not quite what they seem. For example, the government subsidizes luxury stores that no one shops in (Tiffany, Hermes, etc.) for appearances sake. The romantic and exotic-sounding Caspian Sea, rimmed by a beautiful boardwalk-type park, is a brown disgusting almost lifeless oil-stained still mess. The seaside park itself is FULL of policemen patrolling in groups (don't try to nap on the grass). Usually billboards everywhere depict the president's face, but were recently taken down because of the upcoming European Games (which Baku is hosting...even though it's not really Europe...hrmmm). And relatively recently the intelligencia has fled due to an influx of refugees, thus no one quite knows what the population of Baku is. 

So it's weird here. But I kind of like it. And overall I can't believe I'm in Azerbaijan, a country most Americans have never heard of and of which I knew nothing about until a couple months ago.

After showering off the dirt and grease of the train, we ventured out into the city. Our first stop was the Cultural Center, which is by far the coolest building I've ever been in. It's designed based on the former president's signature, a structure of swoops and curves both inside and out. We saw an exhibit called Mini Azerbaijan, which was a series of models of the city's major sites, as well as an exhibit of Azerbaijan's traditional culture.  

Outside the city center and beyond, the countryside is a desert. The earth is torn up in chunks, dotted by the accoutrements of an oil-dependent nation: metal towers, cranes, and oil wells upon oil wells upon oil wells scattered across the land and sea. The palate is grayish blues brownish (sky), tan (sand), and grayish bluish brownish (sea). 

I know this because on our one full day in Azerbaijan we drove an hour outside the city to experience the country's mud volcanos. (Readers of this blog may recall that mud volcanoes and I have a history, starting in Colombia last spring break.) 

It's just a series of pools of mud out in the middle of nowhere. You drive up, look, play in/on them, get mud all over yourself, and drive home. The mud is cold and bubbles up in blurping burps. Totally bizarre, but weirdly fun. 

We leave this great metropolis at 2am tonight. It's been a bit absurd, but also totally enjoyable. Bye bye Azerbaijan! Next stop Budapest (via a brief stop in Riga)!

Georgia (the country): Eating in and around Tbilisi

I could give you a detailed description of every aspect of our Tbilisi experience, but in the interest of time and attention-span, I have decided to abbreviate the site-seeing and instead focus on the food. 

Because Georgian food [swoon], Georgian food! It's your new favorite cuisine that you've never heard of. The best dumplings (khinkhali) and kebabs (shashlik) and tomatoes and eggplant and bread and cheese! So so so sooo much cheese! 

Where do I even start? Each meal was a tour de force, with our trusty Kyle leading us across the region's cuisine, our six hungry bellies ready for whatever he deemed desirable.

The first night we walked to a basement hole-in-the wall in Tbilisi, which ended up being one of my favorite meals of the trip. We had a spinach and walnut and herb pesto-type of "salad," roasted eggplant with walnut paste, the best tomato and cucumber and parsley salad (there is nothing better than a perfectly fresh tomato with a sprinkling of salt), and the piece de resistance: a plate of warm melty cheese that tasted like a combination of mozzarella and super-mild cream cheese and pulled up in long luscious strings from the plate (not pictured in its full glory because we were distracted by eating...sorry but not sorry).

And the best part is that even when cold this cheese maintains its creamy texture (unlike moz, which when cooked turns into an unappetizing rubbery chewy ball in my opinion). The waitress scolded us for putting the cheese on the bread. Apparently it is to be eaten plain, and the same goes for all Georgian food. They're really opposed to mixing, so I snuck my mixing while her back was turned.

On the way to see churches outside of Tbilisi (we saw Georgia's ancient capital including its 5th century church, the tombs of the first Christian king and queen of Georgia, and a church high atop a hill overlooking the river), we stopped for lunch at a well-known roadside restaurant. There the specialty was pots of Georgian beans and dense fried cornbread. Plus savory kebabs of ground beef wrapped in lavash-like bread, and another peasant's salad, this time with a ground walnut dressing. 

And now that brings me to the bread! After an evening of bathing in Tiblisi (literally, we went to a natural sulfur spring bath house and rented a room to steam and soak and scrub for an hour and a half), we finally tasted Georgia's most famous food: kachapuri. There are two kinds of this magical dish. One is a flat pizza-like pastry filled with chunky white cheese. 

The other comes like a bread boat -- the bread is like pizza dough and completely full of melty cheese, with an egg yolk and pat of butter on top to be stirred in before eating. We destroyed a flotilla of kachapuri boats that night, plus a few more the next day. Healthy they are not, but 100% worth it. 

Not pictured in this post are the dumplings, which are round pockets of juicy broth and meat. You bite into them then suck the juice out before it spills, then proceed to enjoy the dumpling. Soooo good! 

On our second full day we drove a couple hours out of the city the wine region of the country. This so-called City of Love, high up looking out at the countryside was absolutely beautiful. We sat down to a luxurious lunch and wine tasting at Pheasant's Tears Winery. Georgian wine is delicious! Really dark dry reds, and surprisingly good whites. If you're in the DC area apparently this winery export to you, so pick up a bottle if you can!

Apparently there are no Georgian restaurants in the US. None. This is a travesty and any entrepreneur reading this should seriously consider starting one. Preferably somewhere I live.

Georgia! (the country) -- Getting There

I'm happy to report that I just started my most recent international excursion -- a 3-week trip through Georgia, Azerbaijan, Hungary, Slovenia, and Croatia!

I find myself again in a transition, again on an adventure. A lot has changed since I blogged about my pre-grad school Nepal/Southeast Asia trip. For one, I now have a Master's degree. But much more importantly,  I have a whole host of new friends -- people I love so much I can't believe we've known each other for such a short time.

My Fletcher people are all going in different directions -- quite literally all over the world -- but while the world is large our interconnectedness makes it small (sorry, cheesy I know, but true). I'm now on my way to Georgia with a group of six friends: one Dutch, one Kiwi, one American who lives in Baku, one Hungarian-American, another American American, and myself of course.

I'm becoming a pretty well-seasoned traveler, but I don't think I'll ever lose the excitement. That thrilling feeling of stepping onto an airplane and not knowing exactly what to expect when I step off. Our first city is Tbilisi, Georgia, and we're immediately heading into the mountains to a region called Kazbegi that looks absolutely amazing. Beyond that I have minimal expectations and maximum enthusiasm!

Right now though the trip has barely even begun. So far all I can tell you is that a New York bagel with cream cheese eaten in a Lower East Side park is quite pleasant on a late May morning. That our cab driver incredulously exclaimed, "Azerbaijan?? Ha! No, Azerbaijan is not for tourism," semi-scandalized but mostly amused by our young American idiocy. That Azerbaijan Air is pleasant surprisingly fancy. And that an 11-hour flight totals to one nap, two movies, three meals, and 192 pages of reading. 

(The "cocoons" at Baku's airport where we transferred.)

It will get more exciting I promise. I will, of course, keep you posted! 

Georgia (the country): Mountains of Kazbegi

Here I am in Georgia, traveling with six friends from school! Led by our brilliant Kyle, who is fluent in Russian and Azerbaijani (not to mention French, Spanish, and Kyrgyz), we couldn't go wrong.

Meal after meal, ancient church after ancient church, beautiful vista after beautiful vista after beautiful vista he led us through the country, translating and explaining and herding us just-graduated cats along the way. Operating the switchboard was his Georgian friend, and at his beck and call was our trusty cab driver Rati who not only drove us all over the country in his minivan that "seats seven" (aka would comfortably seat 4-5) but also ensured our salvation by buying us mini Saint Neno paintings and Georgian wine at lunch (because according to Georgians this food CANNOT be appreciated without the appropriate house wine brewed in beeswax-coated clay pots buried in their yards). 

The first stop was Kazbegi, a mountain and a town and a region in northern Georgia. We stayed at Rooms Hotel, an absolutely gorgeous outpost of luxury boasting expansive mountain views without and rustic chic relaxation within. While our catalog-like life began as Restoration Hardware, it quickly progressed to Patagonia as we hiked up (literally, straight up), to a 5th century church across the valley. We acquired a canine friend along the way (lovingly dubbed Kazi), as well as a Britt named James who is in the process of cycling around the globe. (Check out his blog at www.thelifecycle.org.)

You know that feeling when you stand on top of a mountain and breath in? That fully alive and free and purely happy atop-the-world exhilaration? We spent two beautiful days in that, whether we were literally on top of a mountain or on the deck at our hotel looking out at the mountains. I love open space!!! 

The second morning we decided on a brief hike up part of the mountain behind the hotel. Not sure if we were trespassing, we scrambled through the woods until we reached a road, a church, and a clearing. Nowhere else to go but up! We hiked a bit more until we were sitting on a ridge overlooking the town and the mountains beyond, just taking it all in. 

We watched a white jeep zipping up the road, past the church, and into the valley below us. "Uhoh are we about to get in trouble?" We wondered. "Apparently the Russians are coming for us," we joked. Until we saw combat boots hit the green springy grass on the far side of the jeep, and made out a fatigue-clad figure carrying a giant rifle. "No but really..." our jokes took on a concerned edge as five more militant types, all carrying massive guns, exited the vehicle. Nothing to do but wait and see. They strutted out, pointed at the rocky cliff face of the mountains above, and then proceeded to unfurl and set up their "guns," which turned out to be tripods! We breathed a collective sigh of relief and made our way down. Turns out they were Polish bird watchers searching for the coveted Caucasian Grouse, as the English-speaker among them explained. Though they continued to glare at us and did in fact look military (buzz cuts, camo, unfriendly expressions), they let us look through their telescope (idk what else to call it) to see a bird perched high on the mountain. 

That afternoon it was time for us to go. The driver spoke with Kyle in Russian as he tied our bags to the top of the minivan. "He says the girls should get in because it's cold." The three of us dutifully squeezed into the back seat meant for two. FYI, according to Georgians, women need to keep their ovaries warm, otherwise they'll be infertile. 

The drive back to Tiblisi, though long, was interesting in and of itself. The rocks and mountain faces along the way we're fascinating. The earth had pushed up vertical mountains of stratified ancient volcanic rock that splinters and looked more like a broken tree trunk than the collection of minerals that it was. 

As on the way up, seas of shaggy sleep with curly horns, dreaded wool, and double butts (bred for the extra fat coveted by the Turks) flooded the road, stopping traffic entirely and freezing our van amidst an oncoming flood of baa-ing wooly beasts.

The next post will be about Tiblisi and surrounding areas...

Chilled Parsley Pea Soup

Imagine jumping off a dock into a cold clear lake on a hot July day. The water at first surprises you and then refreshes you in the best possible way. All you want to do is jump in again and again and again.

That, my friends, is what this soup tastes like. Or so decided my dinner guests after their first few bites the other night.

"Wow. I'm just going to sit back and...wow," groaned one friend. "I don't even like peas," stated another, looking into my eyes with all sincerity. "I actually hate peas. But this?" He signed. "This!"
The final accolade captured it for all of us, "Hands down, best soup I've ever had. Seriously, ever."

Who knew this simple concoction of peas and parsley and lemon could elicit such emotion? It's so so easy to make, surprisingly healthy, and, as already explained, insanely delicious.

I served this soup as the third course in a spring-themed celebratory five-part eating extravaganza (cheese and fruit plate, assorted amuse bouches, soup, salmon, cheesecake). We were celebrating the end of grad school, the 36th and final Wednesday Dinner Party, and our general love for one another.

I made the soup the night before, and I think that is CRITICAL. It needs time to sit and for the flavors to make friends with each other.

Without further ado, here you go. Eat this like we did, as a light appetizer course, or a summertime lunch on your back porch, or serve it with crusty bread and cheese and call it dinner in and of itself. Whatever you do, make this -- you will not regret it.

Chilled Parsley and Pea Soup

aks "Zapasoup"
Serves 8 (though I served 12 appetizer-sized servings)

Ingredients:

• splash olive oil
• 2 medium yellow onions 
• 4 cloves garlic
• sea salt
• 2 lb. shelled peas (frozen is fine -- so two bags)
• 2 cups flat leaf (Italian) parsley, chopped
• 6-8 cups vegetable broth (depends on how thick you want it) -- and I'll be honest, I used water and vegetable bouillon cubes. 
• zest and juice of of 1 lemon 
• 1/2 cup half and half
• fresh ground pepper (about 1/2 teaspoon)
• another splash olive oil

Directions:

1. Ideally you should make this one day in advance. 
2. Roughly chop the onions and mince the garlic.
3. In a large pot, heat a generous slash of olive oil. Add onions and a couple pinches of salt, stir to coat, cook for 5-10 minutes until onions become translucent and start to brown. Add garlic, stir to coat, cook three minutes.
4. Add 6 cups hot vegetable broth, add peas, bring to a simmer and turn off the heat. Add parsley and fold in to wilt leaves. 
5. Let the soup cool for 15 minutes. Add half and half, pepper, and a splash of olive oil. Use an immersion blender (or a regular blender) to blend the soup on high until smooth. Add more broth if needed. Add in lemon zest and juice. 
6. Let the soup chill in the fridge overnight. Before serving, blend it again if it's looking not quite smooth enough.
7. Serve cold or room temperature. Swoon. 

*Beautiful soup photo by the talented Jon White. 

Boston Marathon Race Report

I ran the Boston Marathon!!! 

Saying hey to Coach at Mile 9!

This was my second marathon ever and ohhh man. You may not be able to tell by the pictures, but it was rough. Now, two days later, I would like to tell you that I will never run again and definitely never run a marathon again. But you and I both know that's probably not true...

Anywho, before things got real between Hopkinton and Copley, I had a great weekend with Sister2! She came from San Francisco to hang out, relax, carbo-load, and cheer me on. 

Food-wise go ahead and be jealous -- we had Indian, Ethiopian, brunch, cake, and cannolis yummm. We meandered around Cambridge and Boston and went to the Marathon Expo to see what was to be seen (and get some free snacks). 

Volunteer: Do you want a pen to sign the wall?
Me: No thanks, I just want to pose here for a sec...

I was running for the Tufts Marathon Team, so we all celebrated with a dinner the night before the race. We'd been training together since September, and for most of people this was their first marathon experience. The team was 100 runners total, 13 of which were Fletcher students. Look at all of us, so happy and unsuspecting... . 

At the dinner we strategized the spectating (I take this seriously), mapping out who would be where and when. 

 Now on to race morning!

As anyone who pays attention to marathons knows, Boston was RAINY this year. The charity wave (Wave 4) started at 11:15, about 15 minutes after it started coming down. En masse we made our way through the streets of Hopkington, bundled in thrift store clothing until the last possible second. (Did I wear velour sweatpants? Yes. Yes I did.)

The start line itself was shockingly small and to be honest kind of anti-climactic. At that point I was just ready to run. BUT OH WAIT. When you start a race with a gazillion other people, turns out you can't really run. I'd expected this of course, so it wasn't a huge deal. I put my mad duck-and-weave skillz to work for the first five miles, running on the shoulder and in the dirt and puddles, probably adding on some serious unnecessary distance as I zig-zagged across the road. (My pace I think was between 8 and 9 per mile for this part.)

As I got into more open road I hit a rhythm and felt better, running something more like 7:20-7:40 miles. The crowds in the first few towns were awesome! It really is a 26.2 mile block party for the people of Massachusetts.

At Mile 9 saw the Tufts contingent and they went crazy! A whole bus-load of other people's parents cheering for me? I'll take it! Coach jumped into the course to say great job (see the first picture in this post) and I was on my way.

Ok so up to this point it's all sounding pretty good.  But shortly after the Tufts group things started to get shaky. All of a sudden in Natick Mile 11 felt like Mile 20...but it was only Mile 11. I told myself no big deal -- in marathons pain is not linear and you can feel bad then feel good later on (which is true!).

Three of my classmates surprised me in Wellesley (Mile 13), and I was SO HAPPY to see some familiar faces. I had no idea how much a difference it would make to have people I know cheering for me along the way. That gave me a boost that lasted a couple miles.

From Wellesley to Newton, however, was a deep dark journey of misery that I hope to never repeat. Everything hurt SO MUCH. Usually I'm good on downhills but everything from my knees down was in excruciating pain. I just kept thinking that it was too cold to walk, and that I couldn't drop out because people came out to see me. I knew a big group of friends was waiting at the top of Heartbreak Hill, so I willed myself to make it there, telling myself that I could run as slow as I wanted but I had to finish.

OH and here's a random occurrence/question: at the base of Heartbreak Hill next to the intersection of Lowell Street and Commonwealth Avenue I saw a person holding a cardboard sign that said EatRunRead!?! And at first I thought it was a random coincidence, but the sign also had a picture of my running cupcake logo! I was too delirious to fully register and stop to investigate at the time -- but who was this person? If you're reading this leave a comment because the mystery is killing me!

As expected, the massive group of Fletcher cheerleaders at the top of Heartbreak Hill gave me a major boost, followed by these heroes at Mile 22. I was so encouraged by the people cheering me on, there is no way I would have kept going without them!

Those last few miles? Well, they happened. I was yet again pulled along and then pushed ahead by my main cheering contingent -- my sister, boyfriend, and best friend all at Kenmore Square just 1.5 miles from the finish! 

Again, I look so happy!? Mostly happy I was almost done...

So I made it. I crossed the finish line, was given a medal and some water and a completely useless wrap thing (I believe they are supposed to be solar-ish to keep you warm, which requires sunshine), and after some very slow wandering through the cold found my people! 

I'm definitely glad it's over, though I think it's a little too soon to say I'm glad I did it. 

But I DO want to say THANK YOU to everyone who donated to my fundraiser, and supported me along the course, and who have put up with my whining since then (so many stairs in my life...the struggles are so real). And also a big congrats to everyone who ran on Monday! As I neared the finish line a woman kept shouting "We're finishing the Boston Marathon! We're finishing the Boston Marathon! We're finishing the Boston Marathon!" And we did. 

Cake of the Week: Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting

You guys. My thesis may not be finished and my post-graduation future may be completely up in the air, but I finally found the right carrot cake recipe for me, so all is right with the world!

Everyone loves carrot cake. It's the cream cheese frosting, the spicy-ish flavor, and the delicious moist texture that adding veggies to desserts so often yields. But at the same time, everyone has their own carrot cake preferences. Nuts or no nuts? What about raisins? How crumbly? How chunky? Layer cake or sheet cake? 

I'm pretty positive I found the perfect balance in this recipe: carrots, pineapple, pecans, coconut, and the magic ingredient: apple sauce! This cake is all things a carrot cake should be, plus it's healthy(ish) -- just a quarter cup of oil in the whole cake. The frosting on the other hand...well, if the cake is healthier then that balances out the frosting, amiright? 

This is the perfect Easter/springtime/anytime dessert. RoommateRachel and I had seven friends over last night to celebrate East-Over: Matzo Ball Soup followed by this Carrot Cake. Deeelicious. We poured a glass of wine for Elijah, and then snacked on dark chocolate Easter eggs after dinner was over. Mash-up holidays really are the best. 

Carrot Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting 

Cake Ingredients:

• 1¼ c unsweetened applesauce 
• 1/4 cup oil
• 2 c sugar
• 3 eggs
• 2 c flour
• 1 tsp baking soda
• 1½ tsp baking powder
• ½ tsp salt
• 1 tsp cinnamon
• 2 c grated carrots
• 1 c coconut
• 1 c chopped nuts (optional -- pecans or walnuts)
• 1 tsp vanilla or whiskey
• 1 cup Dole crushed pineapple (not drained!) -- use the pineapple in JUICE not syrup.

Cream Cheese Frosting Ingredients:

• ½ c butter (softened)
• 8 oz cream cheese (softened)
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 2-3 cups powdered sugar
• milk as needed

Directions: 

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Combine wet ingredients. 
3. Mix in dry ingredients. 
4. Stir in carrots, coconut, nuts, vanilla/whiskey and pineapple. 
5. Pour into two greased and floured 9-inch round cake pans.
6. Bake for 35-40 minutes until the cake just starts to pull away from the sides and the middle doesn't look gooey. Let cakes cool in pans for 10 minutes, then run a spatula or knife around the edges and turn out onto a wire rack to finish cooling. The cakes must cool completely before frosting!
7. For the frosting:
8. Beat the butter and cream cheese thoroughly. Add in the vanilla and 2 cups powdered sugar and beat until and smooth. Add milk one splash (about a tablespoon at a time), along with the rest of the powdered sugar until it reaches a spreadable consistency.  
9. Assemble: 
10. Frost first layer (with a generous layer of frosting in the middle). Put second cake on top and frost first the sides and then the top of the cake. Decorate with coconut and chopped nuts and chocolate Easter eggs if desired. 

Countdown: 24 days until the Boston Marathon

It's less than a month until the Boston Marathon (24 days to be exact) and I am cramming in the training like a freshman before finals.

WAIT. Calm down. I am going to taper. But there is a plan and that plan involves running another 20-miler this weekend! Woohoo? (Siiiiigh 20 miles all by myself, solo, alone with my thoughts...)

I'm following the same training plan I used for my last marathon (thanks George!), except ahem I may or may not have taken a week off here and there this time around. So yes, I'm behind. Thus, what kind of shape am I in? Who knows. I don't even know! It's been a bit of a roller coaster ride training-wise, so come race day I could run anything from a PR to a 4-hour marathon. 

So here's the plan: 20 this weekend, 16 next weekend, 12 the weekend after that, then marathon time!

The good news is that it is FINALLY spring(ish) here in Boston! Case in point: today I went for a run in the rain. Which might sound unpleasant to some but focus, I said rain, not snow! 

So what did this month-before-marathon week look like? 

• Monday: run 6.6 miles
• Tuesday: tempo workout -- warm up 2 miles, 2x2 miles with 1 mile in between, 2 miles cool down -- 9 miles total
• Wednesday: yoga!
• Thursday: run 6.6 miles
• Friday: tempo run -- warm up 2 miles, 4 mile tempo, cool down 2 miles -- 8 total
• Saturday: run 4 miles
• Sunday: 20 mile progression run

So after Sunday, my week total will be 54 miles, which isn't a lot for marathoners, but it's plenty for me!

Anywho, just wanted to give you people of the interwebs an update on my training. Next week I'll write more on how to taper! And also marathon nutrition, because gels and gus and blocs and hydration are important.

(Also, please help me get to my fundraising goals by donating to childhood obesity research!)

The Worst Run Ever

Sometimes running can be really terrible. We've all been there -- a run that starts bad and gets worse. And worse. And worse. If you're anything like me, such a run makes you question your fitness and training and existence, leading you to regret taking up this insane sport in the first place.

Luckily the truly terrible runs are relatively rare. Unluckily I experienced one recently.

Pause: It sounds like we're going down a deep dark path of intense misery and self-pity...and I'll be honest, we are (briefly). BUT happily this blog has a happy ending. Because though one bad run may feel like the end of all things good, it's not! It's just a bad day! And a week later you can have an awesome run and feel amazing!

So with that happy ending guaranteed, we return to the story.

I was in DC last weekend for school and work. On Saturday I had a brunch reservation for 10:45 at Zengo (aka the morning is time-bound...this fact becomes relevant later), so of course I met SpeedyKate for a long run beforehand.

I was so psyched to be somewhere not under 4 feet of snow! With sidewalks! That I could see! And a balmy temp above zero! As I mentioned in previous posts, I've been having a hard time getting my long runs in (because Boston), so this DC venture seemed like a necessary moment for a 16-miler (because marathon).

I woke up tired that morning, not really feeling like running, but that's never stopped me before. Not questioning my predetermined fate, I pulled on my tights and went out to meet SpeedyKate. We ran down into Rock Creek Park with the plan of surviving running roadside (the bike path was completely caked in ice) until we got to Beach Drive, which is closed to cars on weekends.

I frequently start a run feeling tired, but then as I warm up and get in a rhythm it gets better. I wanted that to be the case on this run. We hit the 4-mile mark and all I wanted to do was turn back, but I thought maybe it would get better. We passed 6-miles and still I felt the same. We got to the end of the road (about 7.5 miles in) and stopped in a bathroom to briefly warm up and eat some sports beans. At this point all I knew was that had to survive the run back.

Our rapid-fire chatter had slowed to a silent stoic slog (on my part at least). I mentally grasped onto each story SpeedyKate told, secretly telling myself that I could walk when she finished talking, but then when she got to the end, telling myself, no you have to keep going. At about mile 12 I couldn't do it anymore though. Kate, I'm sorry, but we have to walk. This has literally never happened before, but whatever, we're friends, and honestly I was too tired to feel ashamed or care. We walked for maybe 100 meters, then the promise of brunch (and the fact that we had to get back in time to get to brunch) got me going again. I hobbled my way to the end of the run, dodging cars, resisting crying, and HATING running with the most burning of burning passion with every step. Never again, never again, never again I chanted to myself as I ran up the last hill. Which is obviously not even a little bit true, but in the moment felt like the only promise that would get me to the finish.

A very hot shower and 4-hour brunch later (no joke, DC knows how to brunch) I felt like a human again. Turns out I was getting sick and didn't really realize it, which explains at least part of the terribleness of that morning.

Post-run, looking and feeling like humans again.

I took most of the following week easy/off, doing yoga, resting up, and trying to feel like a real person again.

Then, yesterday, I went out for a long run with the Tufts Marathon Team. It was a sunshiny warm(ish) morning and I ran a slow but successful 20 miles. It was great! I felt fine! I'm not out of shape, and may even be in better shape than I thought!  

Post-20-miler happy/tired!

So the moral of this story is that bad runs happen. To beginner runners, experienced super-good runners, and all the people in between. But at the end of the day, even the worst run ever is still a run to be grateful for. And a week (or even a day) after the most terrible of the terrible can be fun and full of energy and restore your faith in yourself and the sport. 

Marathon Training in a Series of Snowstorms

Monday marked 2-months-till-Boston (and also, coincidentally, my 28th birthday!), which means that this marathon is no longer a concept of the distant future but a very real and very imminent issue that must be addressed now now. But addressing it means training, and training in Boston this February is at best not easy, and at worst not possible.

Let me set the stage for this tragic comedy of meteorological error. You may have heard a little bit about Boston's multi-record-breaking winter this year? (Ok good. Documenting the atrocity is part of the healing process.) Right now, as we speak, there are 4-6 feet of snow lining every sidewalk. But "sidewalk" may be too generous of a term -- narrow ice rink? Crunchy packed snow and ice that may at one point have been a sidewalk? Snow bank that has not been cleared once this year? -- thus running, if pursued as an outside activity (which it should be!), must be done almost exclusively on the roads.

The problem isn't so much that it has snowed a lot. It's that it has snowed a TON, in rapid succession, and been so Arctic-ly cold that not one single flake has melted.  

So what's a marathon-hopeful to do? IMPROVISE!

First off, I am taking a very flexible approach to days off and scheduling. For example, if it snows a ton and everything is shut down (including the gym), then looks like I'm doing abs in my living room! If it's relatively warm on a Wednesday -- get in a long run!

The next part is that I am getting very friendly with the treadmill. Now, just between us, I do not like the treadmill. One might even say I hate it. But I am fostering a temporary truce with this torturous contraption for the time being. I'm not quite up to doing a truly long run on the 'mill, but I do have some long run-ish workouts that keep me mildly entertained. This gem for example that adds up to 13 miles in total: warm up 3 miles, 4x1 mile with 1 mile recovery, cool down 3 miles.

Third is that when I do run outside, I remember that it's cold and that therefore I will not be running as fast (because science). Knowing this keeps me from getting upset or frustrated or unrealistically feeling out of shape.

Finally, I am SO looking forward to spring! Which at this point I would define as above-freezing temperatures. You guys, it's going to be amazing!

If you're interested in more details on my workouts, you can check my workout log page. Also, if you would like to support me in my marathon endeavor please donate here. Meanwhile I'll be on the treadmill...

I'm running the Boston Marathon!

Oh that's right. You may have thought that I completely fell off of the running bandwagon due to the complete lack of running blog posts recently, but it's not true! I've been running a lot! And not just running, marathon training!

Alright let's back up a bit. Last year I'd qualified for Boston, registered, and was training, well on my way to what I hoped would be a PR. But then disaster struck (of course). I got injured about a month out and was unable to race. Instead I spent my Marathon Monday on the sideline.

So this year, my last year living in Boston, I was determined to do it again and this time make it to the start (and finish!) line. The glitch, however, is that my BQ (Boston Qualifier) time I'd run in DC in March 2013 expired. If enthusiasm and willpower were the entry criteria I'd be in, but sadly such is not the case. So I looked to alternative options and found the perfect solution...

Tufts University (where I am in grad school) has an organized Marathon Team that runs for a different Tufts-related cause every year. This year all the money raised is going to the Friedman School of Nutrition to fund health research on childhood obesity. I can support that! And I can also support training for the marathon with a great group of friends. And, of course, I can fully completely 100% entirely support running the Boston Marathon! (And if you would like to support me, I would very very greatly and forever appreciate any donation. Thank you I love you!)

So where are we today? Well, like I said, I've been running. Running in the cold. Running in the snow. Running (or slip-sliding) on the goshdarn-awful slush and ice. And when I just can't (69 inches in the last 30 days), running on an indoor track or treadmill.

My longest run so far is 14 miles (I blame the weather!), and my workouts have been a bit intermittent. But THE MARATHON is looming -- in 68 days as my page dutifully reminds me -- so it's time to get motivated!

I will be blogging regularly throughout this training experience about workouts, marathoning, staying motivated, injury prevention (rule #1: make it to the start line), and very likely some epic post-long run brunches if I'm lucky.

Thank you, as always, for following, reading, and supporting me in my slightly insane sporting endeavors!