Twelve for 12: January Progress Report

It's really the end of the month already, which means starting tomorrow HRH is going to start getting pissed that she has to learn a new month at school.
It also means that I need to start actively looking at my Twelve for 12 List of Things to Do to make sure that I can cross them all off the list by December 31, a mere 335 days away (that includes the leap day).
So, let's see how things are going.

Meal Planning - Week 2

Last week's meal plan was a success!  I had to switch Monday and Tuesday's plan, but everything else fell into place almost perfectly - I say almost because I didn't really love the caldo verde that I made, but I'm willing to try another recipe for it sometime - and the result was a veggie drawer that only had a bit of kale and broccoli leftover.  Both of those have found their way into this week's plan, so there isn't worry there.
Thus, I am really going to push myself to keep this planning up; I want to make sure that we are eating those wonderful vegetables that come to us so, so fresh, and of course I want to waste less overall (veggies and other staples).  It really was kind of fun looking at my favorite blogs and websites and in my favorite cookbooks to find recipes that will help me use what I have in the crisper (and pantry).

On Your Mark... Get Set... Save the World

Thank you, Solomon family.
It has been a GREAT run.

I realized this week that I am one of those Superstitious Athletes.  I don't really know how it happened, but on Friday night, I was taking my freshly laundered running tights, new top, et al out of the dryer, and I painstakingly rummaged around to make sure I had both socks that had the BLUE Champion® logo.  "I need to wear the blue socks," I thought to myself.
Why?  I have no idea.  I have a pair with a pink logo and many pairs with the gray logo.  They are all the same socks.  I could even wear one sock with the blue logo and one with the pink, and I would not be able to tell you the difference.
But as I set out my race day attire, I HAD to have the blue sock.
Earlier in the day, I got mad at myself for not getting to the ribbon store before it closed.  I have to wear a bow in my hair (usually just a plain ol' grosgrain ribbon), the color of which is representative of the race somehow.  How I came to add this to the wardrobe is a long story, and since this is going to be a long post anyway, we'll have to wait for another time on that.  I thought about going to one of the craft stores that are open until 9 or 10PM, but I decided to wear a ribbon that I already knew I had at home, the one I had worn to the ovarian cancer 5K I ran back in September.
"Gosh, I hope that it's OK to wear the same ribbon."
Yeah, like anyone was going to notice.  But I still thought that, multiple times, as I resisted the temptation to make just one more stop to get myself the "perfect" ribbon.
So, there we have it.  I'm a Superstitious Athlete.  I can no longer make fun of the baseball players who polish their fingernails or football players who must eat the same meal before each game.  I am one of them.  Just not extremely famous and well-paid for my amazing athletic talent.
Even though The Husband set his alarm to go off a half hour earlier than I did (he usually takes about an hour's worth of hitting the snooze button to rouse himself into his pre-coffee, almost-humanlike state - he actually left the race to go get coffee, although races ARE pretty boring, so I am not holding that against him; that he didn't bring me back a doughnut is what I hold against him), when my alarm went off, Zooey naturally thought it was Time to Run.  Sorry, girl.  She begrudgingly went on an early walk with The Husband while I brushed my teeth, put on mascara (a race is no reason not to look your best), and choked down my pre-race breakfast of a Naked® Green Machine smoothie and a sesame bagel smeared with peanut butter.  The other day I had played with the idea of making my own pre-race smoothie.  Then I remembered how early I had to be up.
Last year, I was terrified that I wouldn't get to Schnepf Farms (the amazing local peach farm that has hosted London's Run for the past several years) on time to start the 10K.  The farm is out in Queen Creek, and the road narrows to one lane each way.  Of course, because of the event, traffic was extremely backed up last year, and while I made it in time, I didn't want to risk it for the half marathon, which started before the 10K.
We were out the door by 6:30, and we got there with enough time to spare so that we were able to sit in the car for a bit, enjoying the heated seats (that was just me) before it was time to head out into the pre-dawn chill and hit the Porta-Potty line (seriously the best half marathon advice I've gotten).

Whatif

Tonight is London's Run Eve, the night before my first ever half marathon.  I feel that I have prepared and trained as well as possible, despite having a bout with both the flu and the common cold.  I've tapered, I've made sure that what has gone into my body has been the result of a wise decision (for the most part - I'm sorry about the Dr. Peppers), and I picked up my race bib this afternoon just before buying a new top onto which that race bib shall be pinned.
Still, I'm nervous.
I knew I would be.  One does not simply walk into Mordor take 13.1 miles lightly, and I certainly know that while I have trained well, there is always the unexpected.
And that's when it happened...

Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I'm dumb in school?
Whatif they've closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there's poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don't grow taller?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won't bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don't grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!
--Shel Silverstein, "Whatif"


I love this poem that resides in my copy of A Light in the Attic, one of several compilations of Shel Silverstein's poems for kids.  When I was younger and still part of what the target demographic for such a book, the poem rather terrified me.  What IF (fill in the blank with an irrational fear, usually of something crawling into my ear, to be honest)?
But as I got older, I realized that there is not really a need to play The Worst Case Scenario Game.  It helps that I have started to cry, that I've lived through (sadly) a couple of wars, and I don't think my dance card will ever be filled up with admirers, and yet, nothing happened.  That "if," whatever it was, wasn't really anything.  Whatever happens... happens.  What if I trip over a root (possible - this race is on a farm, after all)?  Well, then, I trip over a root.  What if I sprain my ankle after having tripped over said root?  Well, hopefully a dashingly handsome runner will notice my plight and carry me all the way to the finish.  Pshhh, yeah.... as likely as... well, those pesky Whatifs.  
It's easy to take Whatif Drive all the way to Freakoutville, but I managed to navigate back to the safer waters (yes, I realize I'm mixing metaphors - what are you? The metaphor police?) of Just Being Excited and Nervous At the Same Time.

Wordless Wednesday - Carbs: They're What's for Dinner

A Man, A Plan, A Canal

Who has two thumbs, likes terrible puns, and has the love for history rhymes (and palindromes) only an English teacher could?
THIS GIRL!

The Man
Well, duh, it's The Husband.  Because he works four ten-hour days for his work week, there is always the possibility that ten-hour day will stretch into twelve or more, which generally means I use his absence as an excuse to not make anything for dinner except a stolen handful of HRH's Goldfish® crackers.  I justify it by telling myself I don't want to be in the kitchen and leave HRH to her own devices alone for that long.  Thus, I often go to bed less than thrilled with my mealtime decisions for the day.  Anyway, regardless of when The Husband comes home, I need to have something good in my belly, and he deserves the chance to be able to warm up something delicious and healthy.

Taper Madness

At this time next week, I will have finished my first half marathon.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bit nervous.  Hopefully I'll be able to keep myself busy in order to make sure I don't spend an evening absolutely freaking out.

In the countdown to the big day, I've decided to avoid meat as much as possible.  I, of course, haven't mentioned that to The Husband yet, and he came home from picking up our vegetables bearing not only said veggies but also some cedar planks and salmon, so I suppose I'll have to choke that down.  Darn.

At the same time, my desire for carbs has taken over my thoughts about food, and most other thoughts as well (which is actually a good thing, since I'm thinking about bread instead of the new running shirt that I decided that I "need" to get before the race).  I gave serious consideration last night to calling Oregano's and ordering eight loaves of garlic bread and a side of their "Bollo Pasta."  To go.  I mean, you don't think I'd eat all that bread in public where people would judge me, do you?  That's an in-the-car-in-a-deserted-parking-lot kind of activity.

Fortunately, I held myself back, and my quest for carb-y goodness led me to have what, at the time, I determined to be absolute genius - tofu-angel hair stir fry in peanut sauce.

OK, that kind of sounds weird, but we don't have any udon or other appropriate noodles.  However, we did have two bok choys in the fridge needing to be used in a fairly timely manner, so there you have it.

While rummaging around the fridge (which totally needs to be reorganized and wiped down, but I'm ignoring that for now), I came across a jar of Thai peanut sauce, and I took it out, thinking that I'd use it for the stir fry sauce.

Then I looked at the ingredient list.