I was browsing magazines in a particularly slow checkout line at the grocery store yesterday. One of the covers tried to seduce me with a promising article on diet: “Lose five pound by Easter!”
Hey, that sounds good to me! I’ve had my eye on that same magazine for two weeks. But I think I’ll wait one more week before I buy it, read the article, and deploy their genius method for losing five pounds by Easter. Wouldn’t want to rush this. In fact, if I don’t buy it until the end of the month, I will STILL lose the five pounds. The magazine cover says so.
Seriously, I am appalled by how gullible we humans can be when we’re desperate.
And I’m even more appalled that I’m thinking that this magazine MIGHT have the solution to my weight problem. And that I can wait until even the day before Easter …
Bev
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Laying claim to the morning.
It’s a beautiful spring weekend, but I’m behind on my work, so while the rest of Gainesville cavorts (yes, they cavort; it’s FLORIDA!!!), I will be chained to my desk for the duration, trying to make up for time lost to life’s most non-negotiable demand.
This is punishment.
This is penance.
But I know the work will go better if I run first, so I slip the bonds of indenture and sneak out into the cool morning air … before guilt can bag and tag me, and drag me back into servitude.
If I lay claim to the best of the day, then the rest of the day doesn’t need to be mine really. I love being a runner. I hate being a grownup. I strike a deal.
I wish you a great weekend! Whatever you do, throw in a little extra fun … for me, okay?
This is punishment.
This is penance.
But I know the work will go better if I run first, so I slip the bonds of indenture and sneak out into the cool morning air … before guilt can bag and tag me, and drag me back into servitude.
If I lay claim to the best of the day, then the rest of the day doesn’t need to be mine really. I love being a runner. I hate being a grownup. I strike a deal.
I wish you a great weekend! Whatever you do, throw in a little extra fun … for me, okay?
Friday, March 5, 2010
Suspending the suspense.
I’m about to disappoint you bitterly. I’m so sorry. I whipped us all into a collective frenzy of excitement over the lottery drawing on March 15 for the New York City Marathon, but ...
It’s not happening.
Sorry that had to be blunt and brutal. I think it best to deliver bad news swiftly. Like ripping off a Band-Aid on the count of two.
I went to the Web site of the New York Road Runners last night to find out what time they will announce the Marathon Lottery Chosen Ones. Bad news. I made a mistake. The lottery closes at 11:59 p.m. on March 15, but the New York Road Runners will not draw that night. They’re going to wait until “late March.”
I’m going to stop the countdown because I have no way of pinpointing “late March.” I will resume obsessing every day after March 15 … until.
I wonder what the New York Road Runners will be doing with all the lottery applicants’ forms between March 15 and “late March.” Thousands and thousands of games of Rock, Paper, Scissors? I know they're the most experienced in the world at marathon administration and totally know how to manage their lottery, but I can't help feeling sorry for them. When I signed up in early January, my lottery number was OVER 500,000. More than two months later, the mind reels.
I know it might have appeared to the outside observer that Bev had gone a little psycho over the 15th. But I remind you that I'm a rough, tough marathon runner ... much more in control than that. In fact, I am Zen-like in my serenity. "If a runner falls through the cracks and no one draws her name, was she still running?" Let us remind ourselves, Grasshopper, the treasures of marathon training are like a million hidden jewels embedded within many, many months of hard work and discipline—not within the ONE day of running on November 7th in New York.
You didn’t believe that any more than I did when I said it, did you??? I just spewed Diet Coke all over my keyboard. Let us laugh hysterically together!
It’s not happening.
Sorry that had to be blunt and brutal. I think it best to deliver bad news swiftly. Like ripping off a Band-Aid on the count of two.
I went to the Web site of the New York Road Runners last night to find out what time they will announce the Marathon Lottery Chosen Ones. Bad news. I made a mistake. The lottery closes at 11:59 p.m. on March 15, but the New York Road Runners will not draw that night. They’re going to wait until “late March.”
I’m going to stop the countdown because I have no way of pinpointing “late March.” I will resume obsessing every day after March 15 … until.
I wonder what the New York Road Runners will be doing with all the lottery applicants’ forms between March 15 and “late March.” Thousands and thousands of games of Rock, Paper, Scissors? I know they're the most experienced in the world at marathon administration and totally know how to manage their lottery, but I can't help feeling sorry for them. When I signed up in early January, my lottery number was OVER 500,000. More than two months later, the mind reels.
I know it might have appeared to the outside observer that Bev had gone a little psycho over the 15th. But I remind you that I'm a rough, tough marathon runner ... much more in control than that. In fact, I am Zen-like in my serenity. "If a runner falls through the cracks and no one draws her name, was she still running?" Let us remind ourselves, Grasshopper, the treasures of marathon training are like a million hidden jewels embedded within many, many months of hard work and discipline—not within the ONE day of running on November 7th in New York.
You didn’t believe that any more than I did when I said it, did you??? I just spewed Diet Coke all over my keyboard. Let us laugh hysterically together!
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Stalked by death on the run.
As a Florida runner, I have looked death in the eye many times on the trail. And still I run.
Alligators, snakes, spiders, hurricanes, tornadoes, stuff that drops out of trees, poisonous insects and plants, men with evil intent lurking in shadow, wild animals, vicious dogs, deep sink holes that open up suddenly and swallow whole sections of trail in seconds …
All of it is child’s play in the face of the new peril that prowls paradise.
Pigs.
San Felasco Hammock State Preserve and our neighborhood in the forest have been invaded by pigs. Thousands of them. Evidently pigs find each other attractive, so there’s a whole lot of pig-love going on. By my calculations, they begin breeding when they’re a month old, their gestational period appears to be maybe a week and a half, and the minimum litter of piglets numbers about twenty. Their population is multiplying exponentially like a science experiment gone insane. I might find the plethora of pork perversely fascinating if it was happening somewhere other than here. But frankly, we already had enough to contend with. (Remember January and the comatose iguanas?)
At first, the occasional pig-sighting was novel. The Hammock dwellers tolerated them benevolently.
Then the pigs became annoying.
The Hammock dwellers installed impenetrable fortresses around well pumps and air handlers and the few surviving plants.
Then the pigs upped the ante with back-hoe-bulldozer-chainsaw-bush-hog destruction, trenching and deep rutting every night until we now dread the revelations of daybreak.
The Hammock dwellers hired professional trappers and maybe broke up some close-knit pig families with the Porcine Relocation Program.
And now the pigs have turned murderous. This week a hapless dog was attacked and nearly disemboweled by a sow.
The Hammock dwellers sounded the official neighborhood warning: The pigs are ticked off. They’re out to kill.
Uh oh. So now when I run, I round each blind corner more mindfully. My fear is that somehow the pigs know that some of the neighbors had bacon with their eggs for breakfast, and they’re out for revenge. Could this be the dawn of retribution?
COUNTDOWN TO THE ING NEW YORK CITY MARATHON LOTTERY DRAWING: 11 DAYS
Alligators, snakes, spiders, hurricanes, tornadoes, stuff that drops out of trees, poisonous insects and plants, men with evil intent lurking in shadow, wild animals, vicious dogs, deep sink holes that open up suddenly and swallow whole sections of trail in seconds …
All of it is child’s play in the face of the new peril that prowls paradise.
Pigs.
San Felasco Hammock State Preserve and our neighborhood in the forest have been invaded by pigs. Thousands of them. Evidently pigs find each other attractive, so there’s a whole lot of pig-love going on. By my calculations, they begin breeding when they’re a month old, their gestational period appears to be maybe a week and a half, and the minimum litter of piglets numbers about twenty. Their population is multiplying exponentially like a science experiment gone insane. I might find the plethora of pork perversely fascinating if it was happening somewhere other than here. But frankly, we already had enough to contend with. (Remember January and the comatose iguanas?)
At first, the occasional pig-sighting was novel. The Hammock dwellers tolerated them benevolently.
Then the pigs became annoying.
The Hammock dwellers installed impenetrable fortresses around well pumps and air handlers and the few surviving plants.
Then the pigs upped the ante with back-hoe-bulldozer-chainsaw-bush-hog destruction, trenching and deep rutting every night until we now dread the revelations of daybreak.
The Hammock dwellers hired professional trappers and maybe broke up some close-knit pig families with the Porcine Relocation Program.
And now the pigs have turned murderous. This week a hapless dog was attacked and nearly disemboweled by a sow.
The Hammock dwellers sounded the official neighborhood warning: The pigs are ticked off. They’re out to kill.
Uh oh. So now when I run, I round each blind corner more mindfully. My fear is that somehow the pigs know that some of the neighbors had bacon with their eggs for breakfast, and they’re out for revenge. Could this be the dawn of retribution?
COUNTDOWN TO THE ING NEW YORK CITY MARATHON LOTTERY DRAWING: 11 DAYS
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Lottery countdown strategy taking shape!
The drawing for the 2010 ING New York City Marathon lottery is on March 15. We all have that date marked on our calendars as the day that Bev will be accepted into the marathon, don’t we? The pyrotechnicians have been hired? The caterers have been called? Right?
Just making sure that we’re all together on this ...
ATTENTION! MARATHON RUNNERS OF THE WORLD! If you have not already entered your name into the lottery, do NOT do it now. The lottery is too packed, and I need the New York Road Runners to find and draw my one little name from among the gazillion applicants.
If you enter now, and you get in and I don’t, you’ll have to live with that guilt forever. I care about you. Really. Personally. I don’t want you to live with the grief of knowing that you ruined my life. At the very least, you will not enjoy the marathon at all. You’ll see my face in the crowd of spectators at every turn and you’ll wonder how I got everywhere before you did … with my black veil and all.
If you have already entered the lottery, withdraw your name now. Save yourself this pain.
If you email me proof that you either have refrained from entering or have withdrawn your name, I’ll send you the list of all the great marathons in the world that will make you happier than New York ever could. That’s how much I care about you. Really. Personally.
And if you bought into ANY of this, I have bridge I want to sell you for cheap. Nah. Not the Brooklyn Bridge again. This time it’s the Verrazano Narrows.
COUNTDOWN TO THE ING NEW YORK CITY MARATHON LOTTERY DRAWING: 12 DAYS
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Marathon Cooking School
This morning we begin serious discussions about a runner’s kitchen and training table. We need to put recipes into our collection that meet the unusually high demands of marathon runners’ bodies.
Applying the artistry of a chef with the precision of a scientist, we must prepare food that’s delicious, nutrient-dense, clean and pure, organic if possible, and perfectly balanced in carbohydrates, proteins, and fats.
Unfortunately, I have no time to eat, let alone cook, so the first dish we’re going to prepare together is “Rice Cakes.” I saw that smirk on your face. Stop! If it makes you feel better, I’ll go all Food Channel on you: Gâteau de Riz Pour le Marathon.
Most rice cakes are free from additives, so what you see is what you get. Rice. In a cake. No need for second-guessing: “Say, is irradiated, genetically engineered, butylated hydroxytoluene with heptyl paraben as tasty as it sounds?”
The humble rice cake does the job of holding a “sandwich” together or hosting an open-face as well as toasted bread. So here’s the genius part: Keep the other ingredients righteous. Smear on a little almond butter and pureed fruit spread or sliced banana. Or try avocado and cilantro and a whisper of chopped Spanish onion. Make right choices, slap ‘em on top of a rice cake, and you’ve got yourself a quick grab-n-go meal that’s FUEL … and as a bonus, moderate in calories.
(IMPORTANT NOTE: In reference to yesterday’s posting, putting Girl Scout cookies on a rice cake causes entropy. Do NOT attempt this at home. Leave it for trained professionals.)
COUNTDOWN TO THE ING NEW YORK CITY MARATHON LOTTERY DRAWING: 13 Days
Applying the artistry of a chef with the precision of a scientist, we must prepare food that’s delicious, nutrient-dense, clean and pure, organic if possible, and perfectly balanced in carbohydrates, proteins, and fats.
Unfortunately, I have no time to eat, let alone cook, so the first dish we’re going to prepare together is “Rice Cakes.” I saw that smirk on your face. Stop! If it makes you feel better, I’ll go all Food Channel on you: Gâteau de Riz Pour le Marathon.
Most rice cakes are free from additives, so what you see is what you get. Rice. In a cake. No need for second-guessing: “Say, is irradiated, genetically engineered, butylated hydroxytoluene with heptyl paraben as tasty as it sounds?”
The humble rice cake does the job of holding a “sandwich” together or hosting an open-face as well as toasted bread. So here’s the genius part: Keep the other ingredients righteous. Smear on a little almond butter and pureed fruit spread or sliced banana. Or try avocado and cilantro and a whisper of chopped Spanish onion. Make right choices, slap ‘em on top of a rice cake, and you’ve got yourself a quick grab-n-go meal that’s FUEL … and as a bonus, moderate in calories.
(IMPORTANT NOTE: In reference to yesterday’s posting, putting Girl Scout cookies on a rice cake causes entropy. Do NOT attempt this at home. Leave it for trained professionals.)
COUNTDOWN TO THE ING NEW YORK CITY MARATHON LOTTERY DRAWING: 13 Days
Monday, March 1, 2010
Cookie Alert!
With my New York City Marathon training now ramping up into a fairly respectable base (by Bev standards), March is the month for achieving a virtuous training table. With a double-pronged approach to trimming down the muffin body—working out like a crazy person and eating right—I have to see some weight drop as mileage and intensity of workouts increase. Repeat: I have to.
And I know this is going to be reallyreallyreally hard because the Girl Scouts are now on their omnipresent cookie campaign and I’m a sucker for any cause that develops amazing girls into amazing women. I can’t tell you the heroic personal sacrifices I’ve made over the years on their behalf. Thin Mints. Samoas. Tagalongs.
This year I’m bribing the tenacious Scouts and their beleaguered mothers with generous checks to gather up their cookies and back away from the runner slowly …
And I know this is going to be reallyreallyreally hard because the Girl Scouts are now on their omnipresent cookie campaign and I’m a sucker for any cause that develops amazing girls into amazing women. I can’t tell you the heroic personal sacrifices I’ve made over the years on their behalf. Thin Mints. Samoas. Tagalongs.
This year I’m bribing the tenacious Scouts and their beleaguered mothers with generous checks to gather up their cookies and back away from the runner slowly …
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