France, A Love Story in Food (now with more travel chaos!)

View from our hotel -- Terrible room, but great view.

I've stayed in France many times, mainly with friends, but once living in my own apartment as a French government employee for the entire summer. This time, however, I was like a normal business traveler, working all day in English from my hotel and eating out for every meal.  Not my ideal way to visit a country whose culture and language I LOVE.  But I still went and did my best to enjoy it...

Okay, it wasn't all work. This was our hotel's 34th floor bar view. It didn't suck.

Despite this, one of the things I could make time for was a checklist of the French Foods I wanted to enjoy.  So, most days, I took myself out for a solo lunch at a local brasserie and also tried to influence the dinner group to check one or more boxes on my food list as well.

Nighttime view -- the hotel room was small, old, and lame -- peeling paint, non-functional tub, but damn, what a view!

Soupe a L'ognion -- check. (Yes, this was my first choice. Lunch.  Paris.  Smokers in my outdoor/indoor glass cabin.  What can I say?  It was iconic and I love me some French Onion Soup. Also, perhaps I just love butter, but either way, it was delicious.)

Iconic.  Place de la Bastille -- unexpected  bonus of lunch with my childhood French pen-pal.

Moules Frites -- check. (Across the street from the hotel, a chain, and deliciously so, and from Belgium, whose people, supposedly, are responsible for both the moules in the preparation we enjoyed and the frites, so it was wonderful.) 

Bistek tartare – check.

Crepes -- check.  We went to the  closest creperie to our hotel, just off the Champs Elysees, not too far from the Franklin Roosevelt metro station.  I assumed that if a creperie could stay open in Paris it wouldn’t be bad.  And my assumption was correct.  Normally, I opt out of the dessert crepe, but E convinced me we needed one.  He was right.  The savory buckwheat crepes were delicious (mmm… mushrooms, emmenthal, et jambon).  But the Nutella caramel white wheat crepe was sublime.  The quintessential dessert.

You know you are jealous!

The third day’s bistro lunch was with a friend and I enjoyed choucroute de la mer avec la sauce beurre blanc (This was an adventure – something I’d never had before, I love me some Sauerkraut, but the French version at this restaurant with fish around it in a packed tube-like preparation with potatoes and rich sauce was entirely too much food, but delicious, of course.) (Café Europeen)

Love locks.  Going strong on the passarelles of Paris.

Nightitme Seine view.

Musee D'Orsay.

The Fourth day’s surprise lunch was simply opportunistic -- to avoid the long lines at the metro for the folks heading out for their weekend holidays, E & I went to a local fancy place (Le Congres).  La Degustation de fruit du mer had the expected oysters and prawns, but it also included a couple of surprises I’d never had before including *raw* mussels (les moules espagnoles) and les bulots.  I had to look “Bulots” up, as I’d never had them before, ever, and I didn’t know the English word either – so, in case you were wondering, “Whelks” are nautilus shells with delicious meat inside, and apparently this is the British term for cooked seasnails (not to be confused with landsnails/escargots).  Did I mention they were delicious? (Also, "Bulots" should not be confused with "Boulot" or job.  Good luck with the pronunciation differentiation on that one...)

On the Fourth night in Paris, E and I went out and I ordered encornets a la provencale. (Mmmmm…. Delicious.  New to me.  Never had squid in this style or preparation before.  Absolutely delicious.) (Restaurant Georges.)

The next AM, despite our best efforts, we left France in a typical international travel fiasco.  We arrived at Gare du Lyon 1 hour before our TGV.  We’d purchased tickets online, however, the automatic ticket machines wouldn’t recognize our US credit cards to print our tickets.  So, I went to information, explained the problem, was sent to the guichet, which took a while to find, finally arrived, took a number to wait to be helped for today’s travel issues (not to be confused with *future* day’s travel issues, a much shorter, faster line, for future reference), and learned that there were 34 people in front of me.

Place de la Concorde

I went back to where E was with the luggage, telling him, “Well, it looks like there are 37 minutes until our train departs and 34 people to be helped – this should be exciting.”  I was then treated to a very relaxed set of civil servants calling people to their desks by number and closing and opening their desks on 15 minute intervals as they alternated breaks.  Finally, as the number before mine appeared to be a no-show, I jumped up to the counter and explained my situation to the woman, correctly assessing from observing the previous folks in line that French would be faster even though I may not have all the necessary vocabulary. 

First, our reservations were a bit complicated to find (of course) because we hadn’t bought directly through the French site, but rather through an EU-wide site.  Then, when she found them, she asked, “Vous-etes bien sur que vous avez payez?  Je ne vois rien de charges.” (Essentially – I don’t see any charges on your credit card.  You don’t have *real* tickets!)   Yikes, I had stepped up to the desk with 6 minutes to spare, assuming all I needed to do was show my confirmation, and get the tickets.  Somehow, after I assured her that we had indeed been charged, she found my ticket and was getting ready to dismiss me with “Allez, tu dois faire le courir de ta vie” (Go, you must run for your life!) when I explained that I also needed E’s ticket.  She found it, printed it, and yelled at the people in front of the door to get out of my way, shouting at me as I left “Allez – VITE! VITE! Vous ne compostez pas, allez juste a la voie C et prennez la premiere voiture.” 

So, that’s what we did.  I ran frenetically zig-zagging and obviously-not-French through the crowds, found E, grabbed one of the bags, shouted at him – “Track C, First car!” and we ran.  We arrived with 30 seconds to spare.  The attendant asked as we arrived – “Lausanne?” “Oui!” I breathlessly confirmed.  “Allez alors!  Montez dans!”  Once we were on the stairs, safely inside the first class car, the conductor asked, “Which coach?”  Laughing, I admitted that I didn’t actually know.  We opened the tickets, confirmed that we had a nice long walk through the train and finally made our way to our 2nd class seats.

L'Obelisque de la Place de la Concorde.

Not yet done with the international ridiculousness, after we’d nicely kicked the guy who’d decided to squat in our seats out of the way, I found my way to the bar car to purchase lunches for E&me, since we hadn’t had time to do that in the station.  After our food was prepared and ready to go, the credit card system stopped working and I had to explain that all I had was 15 Euros and a bunch of American money.  The suite attendant refused to accept my apologies and sent me back to our seats with 26 EU worth of lunch and beer in exchange for my 15 Euros and the promise that I’d bring any and all change I could find.  I found less than 2 Euros in my jacket pocket and when I brought it back to him, apologizing yet again, he said, “Vous devez dejeuner.  Ce n’est pas votre faute que la machine ne marche pas. Enjoyez!”  (You have to eat lunch!  It’s not your fault the machine isn’t working.  Enjoy!)

Vivez la France!

New York Marathon

The New York Marathon was the most fun marathon I’ve ever run.

View from the bar at the top of our Times Square Hotel.

It’s only the second time I’ve run a marathon with a friend, and, frankly, after this time, I’m not sure I’ll ever go back to the solo clock-goal slog.  No matter how fast you run it (if you are me) a marathon is going to be a long time to be on your feet, and having a companion you can chat with, catch up with (because when else do I get 4+ hours with a married friend who has a toddler?), and enjoy the sites and experience with is so enjoyable.

The night before -- our throwaway over-clothes from H&M clearance and Walgreens

Also, we were at an iconic course, and just there to finish.  Sure, we wanted to get off our feet as soon as was reasonable given our other goals of not injuring ourselves, enjoying the day, taking photos, etc., but there was absolutely no pressure.

It was *cold* at the start.  Thank goodness Dunkin Donuts was giving away hats.

This translated to compete and utter fun.  For a while now, I've been going back and forth on whether I actually enjoy training for and completing marathons.  I think the take-home after NYC is that I may never *race* a marathon again.  The enjoyment I got out of completing this monumental task with a friend, comfortably, and enjoying the beauty and diversity of the sites was *much* more than what I typically get out of going it alone. (But of course, never say never.)       

It took about 5 minutes to walk to the actual start-line after our wave began.

For Chicago, before I pulled out, I was on pace for around a 4:40 marathon.  That was about what I thought my fitness could handle.  And it was fun.  BUT NO WHERE NEAR AS FUN AS NEW YORK.  I didn't stop to appreciate the different neighborhoods.  I didn't spend too much time looking around.  And I definitely didn't have anyone to share the experience with.

The Verrazano Narrows Bridge.  SO WINDY.

Also, N completely surprised me.  She’d only run a max long run of 11 miles.  So my goal was to reign us in at the beginning, keep it easy, and be ready to drop to run/walk intervals of whatever frequency made sense whenever the wheels fell off.

Finally touching down in Brooklyn.

Ummmmm… N was having none of the “you might hit the wall” business.  She just kept on keeping on, and never needed to start shorter intervals.  We ran in the high tens to high 11s when we were running, and walked approximately every mile or so for the aid stations, where necessary to take pictures, or for other reasons (a 6m30s porta-loo break, fueling walk breaks, vaseline).

On our way to Queens with a view of Manhattan in the background.

The approximate difference in terms of overall time on my feet was somewhere in the range of 44 minutes. 

Running under the 59th St./Queensborough Bridge.

What I realized is that if I can trade some extra time for shared memories, photos, and just a general great time, I'll take it.

The view from the side of the 59th St. Bridge.

Interestingly, the walk/stop breaks slowed us down less than I expected.  If we hadn't needed to the porta-potty stop (this was my only big complaint about NYC -- their were *not* enough bathrooms on the course, and the lines were very long), the difference would have been only 38 minutes.  This includes actual *stops* of minutes at a time to take pictures. 

Touched down in Manhattan (E surprised me by yelling for us at this corner!)

Because we weren't worried about time, we decided to use a PowerBar peanut butter and jelly (the very chewy kind) as our first fuel break after the 10K.  Folks, I will share the results of this experiment so you can learn from our mistake.  It turns out, while PowerBars are great for some pre- mid- and post-workout fuel, they suck in the middle of a marathon.  So much chewing.  So hard to swallow.  Coats the mouth in a funky way that means you can't get enough water to wash it down at the aid station.  Not recommended.

Headed up to the Bronx.

Around the half we had our second fuel walk break, this time Gu.  Faster. Easier. More pleasant all around.

From the Bronx and through the park, we picked it up -- we were ready to be done, and then we were.

Somewhere around 18 or so, the NYC marathon was giving out PowerBar gels.  The first option was Orange Dream.  I'd never had a PowerBar gel, but I knew that I usually don't like fruit flavored gels so I gave it back and went for a Double Latte from a later volunteer.  From this I learned that for me, PowerBar gel is too syrupy, and oddly acidic.  So, I think I'll continue to stick with my Gus for now.

If you opted for "no baggage" you received a nice warm parka to walk back to your hotel.

Like all big races, the logistics for NYC were insane for us.  You need to come at least a day early to go the expo (which was actually less out of control than Chicago).  We opted to stay the night in a hotel on Staten Island rather than messing with the Ferry and the buses from the Ferry to the start.  Even so, we ended up walking about 2 miles before the actual start because our cab couldn't drop us any closer (and because the distance from the security check to the actual start is at least a mile).  The walk from the finish to where you can meet your family takes at least 10-15 minutes.  Something to note if you've got an anxious toddler who last saw mommy around mile 25.  Our hotel was 2.6 miles of walking from the finish -- while it was annoying this was probably a good thing, we walked and drank the Gatorade recovery protein drink from our goodie bag as it grew darker and colder.

From there, it was a quick shower, a quick meal with N and family, and then chaos because no cabs could get across town due to the marathon shutdowns that were slowly opening up.  Finally, we made it to our flight, boarded, and then after more than an hour delay, we were unboarded into a roped off area and were met with this sight:

Needless to say, our travel plans that night did not go according to plan...

A Glorious Week At Home

You're the Wine That I Want!

So. thanks to some seriously impressive organizational skills on the part of the captain of my van for our Ragnar Napa team, most of us met up today in Oakland, legs recovered, ready for some deliciously awesome wine-tasting.  Despite the destination of our relay, there was very little (van 1) to no wine (van 2, my van) actually tasted on the relay weekend, so we were on a mission.

A Sunday full of local winetasting was the perfect way to cap off a week at home with lots of general home todo stuff (laundry, bills, voting, etc.), prep for upcoming travel and the holidays (the rest of the year is ridiculous), a trip out to the impressive Gallo Center for the Arts to see (and more importantly listen to) Joshua Bell, and dealing with the final punch-lists for the kitchen (almost done!).

Final Inspection (fingers crossed) is Monday.

Overall, the week was low-drama.  Lots of work, laundry, easy miles, etc.  Following the World Series (Go Giants!) including being guests at Giants-fan-friends who sent us home with 3 nights worth of microwaveable lasagna leftovers (HUGE THANKS! -- also, there appears to be a correlation with the wins, more lasagna is clearly needed).

On the running front, it was a fine week.  My knees are completely recovered from Chicago.  I managed 30.55 miles total including *much* walking. Today, I woke early, and, since we were staying the night in the East Bay near the trail, headed for an out and back along the new span of the Bay Bridge for 9+ miles of one last long run before NYC.  It was cool, beautiful, and overall, a great way to spend the morning:

View of the Oakland Port Cranes (AT-ATs) under the old bay bridge span.

Good side-by-side showing the new pedestrian portion and bike path vs. the old bridge span.

What remains of the old Treasure Island touchdown (from the new pedestrian trail).

The gap of the removed old span from the current pedestrian turn-around point.

In other news, thanks to the YTWTIW East Bay Wine excursion, we learned all about the East Bay Vinters Alliance, which is so cool.  Who knew there were so many wine tasting venues you could visit in the greater Oakland metropolitan region?   Makes perfect sense, really.  There are way more people in the actual bay area than up in NorCal wine country, why not source the grapes, make the wine, and have a tasting room and wine experience close to the people, instead of requiring them to get themselves all the way up to where some subset of the grapes are grown.

We visited two wineries -- Urban Legend (AT-AT logo alert!), where the owners were so welcoming and willing to chat about anything and everything related to their wine business; and Cerruti Cellars who blew us away with the phenomenal space and huge back table/room that they gave to our group solely in exchange for the tasting fee (which was waived w/purchase).

All-in-all, it was a great bay area week.  We even held our own in the World Series and got some (minimal) rain! Now all we need is for the Giants to kick some booty in Kansas City...

Love NYC

In one of my alternate lives, I definitely lived for quite some time in New York.  I fit there.

I *really* liked my visit to Chicago -- in discussions with E, F&P, I even compared it favorably to New York, referring to it as cleaner, more planned, and more civilized.  I sincerely believed these things when I said them.

And yet, despite the identified "betterness" of Chicago against the big apple, per the usual, upon arrival and every day of my visit, something (or many things) about Manhattan struck a chord of pure joy with me.

There's so much humanity.  So many people.  With so many very different lives.  I can't help but notice the obvious variety and differences between the individuals in the masses, and as such, as my own particular brand of weirdo in the walking crowds, I feel less alone.

We're all so different.  But together, in the same physical space and doing the same basic breathing, eating, walking, ducking to avoid the rain -- I feel a part of something so much bigger than myself, with so much energy.  And it's wonderful.

Our hotel for this stay was on 36th street, just outside of Korea Town.  So, after checking in, we went to dinner and started the meal with a table full of delicious Banchan.

This is my favorite thing about Korean food!  Mmmm... pickled and delicious side dishes.

 E had Bibimbop and I had delicious Soondooboo jiggae.

So Delicious!

The rest of the trip was a welcome combo of work, food, and socializing.  Day 1, I worked from the hotel until Nish arrived, and we headed out for a short mid-day run in Central Park.  So iconic.  After we cleaned up, and worked some more, we headed to Kura for one of the best omakase sushi meals I've ever had.

Day 2, I woke early, worked 3-4 hours, and then Nish and I did a quick fast 5K each at the hotel gym (we're doing the NYC marathon together, and one benefit of dropping out of Chicago is that I was in decent shape to join her on some runs this week).  From there, we headed to a spa for massages, lunch at Babbo with her hubby & babe (yeah, that's right, their not quite 2 year old was well behaved enough to join us for a fancy lunch at Babbo. He's a rock star.)

On our way back to the spa to take advantage of the hot tubs, sauna, etc., we walked through Washington Square.  The rain from the AM had completely burnt off and it was gloriously beautiful for an indulgent half day off work with an old friend.

After our water treatments, we walked most of the way back to our hotel, worked, and then walked together to my evening obligations in Times Square.  Because of this, in less than 30 hours, a good friend and I jointly visited Central Park, Washington Square, Union Square, Madison Square Garden, Bryant Park, and Times Square (the last one was more of a hassle, whereas the previous ones were each a pleasure) -- How cool is that?

Lego Statue of Liberty in Madison Square Garden

Day 3, I worked, headed to a lunch with a professional colleague with whom I've worked for almost a year and had not yet met.  We had a fun chatty lunch at Taralluci e Vino in the Flatiron district.  I walked to and from the lunch, worked before and after it, and E&I met up with D at Inakaya -- they did a good job of transporting the concept we loved from Tokyo into midtown Manhattan and we had a very enjoyable meal and experience.

Day 4, E&I woke, packed and headed to the airport.

And now, finally, after 8 packed days away, I am thrilled to be home.

Bonus -- since I didn't actually do a marathon in Chicago and my knee seems to have recovered after a few easy days and some icing, I'm excited to get up early and fit in a long run tomorrow. 

Chicago Marathon DNF weekend (Complete with Snarky MD Commentary)

The title says all you need to know about the short version. But the long version is that this weekend was super enjoyable, despite the disappointment.

The "Bean" -- so cool.

I came into the race very confident that I could meet my goals, which were relatively simple:  Finish healthy in a time that shows that I've rebuilt my fitness.

I'd gotten over my cold.  The data showed that I'd done a total of 592.97 miles in 18 weeks for an average weekly mileage of 33.2.  Some of those miles were slow jogs, some were run walks, and some, especially early on, were walks.  But I I'd given myself permission to do whatever I needed to do to get the mileage done during the 18 week cycle.  When I looked at the volume I had completed despite my work, travel, and life obstacles, it was clear that my plan had worked.  So, I felt confident that I had done a good job of getting myself at least halfway back to where I'd historically been and I knew the marathon was going to be fun since I didn't have the pressure of a time goal.

Riverwalk across the river from the race hotel.

Friday, I flew, worked, dealt with ORD delays (the ATC fire is still wreaking havoc), and ate room service/worked/slept at an airport hotel.  Saturday, I woke, cabbed into town through the massive traffic jam of arriving folks, and checked in to my race hotel.

Gigantic Expo at the McCormick Place

From there, the remainder of the day was dedicated to pre-marathon logistics.  This may be (simultaneously) one of my favorite and least-favorite things about huge races.  It took an entire day to catch the shuttles to and from the expo, pick up the necessary stuff at the expo, wait in line for lunch near the hotels where all the runners were staying, walk to the start from the hotel for reference so I'd know how to get there, relax in bed and take the blissful indulgent pre-race nap, eat dinner at the hotel restaurant, greet E at his arrival and finally turn out the lights and fall asleep.  On one hand -- a total waste of a day.  On the other hand, such a luxurious letting go and just going with the oh-so-slow-flow that is 45,000 people trying to prepare for any big event in the same location.  I think the day before a marathon is one of the only times when I feel justified in just doing almost nothing for a full day.

Obligatory Tourist experience?  Us and several hundred other runners?  Check.

It was almost a 2 hour wait for this bad boy.  But it was worth it.

Sunday AM went well.  I woke 5 minutes before my alarms, turned them off so as to not wake E, had my coffee & athletic-food-bar, got dressed, and all went according to plan (which is a blessing my runner peeps will understand).  I was out the door into high 40s F weather with plenty of time to spare, but encountered some unpleasantness when the gates started closing earlier than the scheduled times.  There was no communication between the volunteers, so gates were closing in very unpredictable ways.  For example, Gate 2 closed before 7:30 AM, and those of us in wave 2 were told to run to Gate 3 (note, running before a marathon in an unplanned manner is not exactly my favorite thing on marathon morning).  We did.  Gate 3 let us through, but then the G corral was closed in front of us as we arrived (all of the Gate 2 folks were F corral), and they told us to run *back* out Gate 3 and back in Gate 4 for H or I *or* we could wait 'til after all of the corrals in wave 2 had left and then they'd let us in.

Such a gorgeous day for a marathon through the beautiful Chicago Skyline.

At this point, I opened my Gatorade, started my late-stage hydrating, and walked forward, locked out of the corrals, but headed towards the actual start gate.  I figured at some point after Wave 2 started they would open the side gates and I'd rather be as close to the start as possible when they did so.  I arrived at the F corral to find the gates completely open (as in the Gate 2 closure was not coupled to the F corral closure) so I flashed my bib and calmly walked in.  10 minutes later, the body heat of the crowd was warm enough that I ditched my long sleeve shirt and my mittens about 4 minutes before the Wave 2 start.  And then we were off (with me crossing the start line approximately 3 minutes after the official wave 2 start horn).

Somewhere in the middle of the race, below the "El" train.

The weather was cool.  Shade was abundant (thank you architectural high rises!).  The crowd support was unlike anything I've ever encountered.  It was so inspiring that I never even considered putting in my headphones.  I just ran, occasionally checking my Garmin to ensure I wasn't going faster than I could handle.  Despite my best efforts, I clocked 3 miles in the 9:50 range (and my goal was 10:15 - 10:40 with an assumption that 10:40 was closer to appropriate).  What I did well, however, is that I walked through all the aid stations.  I took in Water, Gatorade, and Gus as scheduled.  My original plan had been to head out with the 4:40 pace group but I couldn't find then.  I did, however, cross the half at 2:19:38 and felt the best I've ever felt at a half on a marathon course.  Until, a few hundred meters later, as I slowed a bit after the half timing mat, I didn't.  I realized that my left knee was *very* cranky.

Underneath the bean.

I pushed on a few more miles, but the pain was increasing.  I pulled off at an aid station around mile 15.  I saw an MD.  We had a hilarious exchange:

Me: Hi. Ummm... my knee hurts and I'm wondering if I'm going to do any serious damage if I continue.

Doctor: Hard to say. Probably you already have. Have you injured this knee before?

 Me: Yes.

Doctor: Do you want to injure it again?
     
Me: Ummm...No. (Making a bit of a face, as in Seriously???)

Him: Did you take anything for the pain today?

Me: I thought taking NSAIDS before long distance running was bad for your liver.

Him: It is.  Did you?

Me: No.  It didn't hurt before.

Him:  But it hurts when I do this?  (Doing the annoying thing he'd done earlier to establish some likelihood of injury.)

Me: Yes.  (We already established this!)

Him:  Well, you've got 11 more miles.  Probably not a good idea.  But, I guess we could give you some tylenol and ice and you could head out in half an hour.

Me:  What?  I'm not a professional runner.  If I'm icing, doesn't that mean I'm pretty much done, as an amateur?  Why would I take 30 minutes off in the middle of a marathon?

Him:  You make a good point.  You probably should be done.  (Obviously not impressed with the average runner's response to his feedback.)
 
Me:  Okay.  So, if I drop out.   What happens?

Him:  We have vans.  Ours isn't here right now.  But it will come back and take you to the finish.  I guess you could try to walk it off to the next medical aid station, it's only 3/4 of a mile.  They have more vans...

Me:  Okay, I'm gonna take that as a sign. [He shrugged.] (This is where I jogged slowly to the next medical aid station, which did have the benefit of getting me across the 25K mat, which was a nice consolation prize.)

In addition to the doctor's feedback (which confirmed for me that most runners are not very protective of their own bodies vis-a-vis running), I had a couple of additional thought-provoking moments.

A little past mile 7, I ran through some intense cheering into a silent zone.  Cops were parting traffic and someone was doing chest compressions on a runner on the ground.  Two runners near me as we ran by were obviously medical professionals as I heard them say, "Oh shit.  Cardiac."  And, "Should we stop?"  And finally, "Looks like it's under control."

I was very pleased to later learn that he came to and was communicative at the hospital.

The second scare I had was being part of the medical tent and van of the wounded after I dropped out.  Oh wow.  In the second tent (which was a larger aid transfer station) most of those folks were in *horrid* shape.  Pale.  Complaining of heart palpitations.  Puking.  Shaking. Being evaluated for hospital transfers.  (And it wasn't even that hot.).  Me, I'd played it relatively safe.  I was running very evenly and felt very confident that I could have finished somewhat on pace at the medium-hard, but not-super-hard pace I'd been keeping, which included walking fuel breaks every time there was an aid station.
 
So, overall, I'd like to say that despite DNFing, my Chicago weekend was a complete success.  I was reminded that marathon running is my hobby.  And that's it.  It takes back seat to so many things in my life, and I'm totally okay with that.

The Little Goat Diner

Little Goat

But, it's still a great hobby even when I DNF, because I get to go to and learn about beautiful places, cheer on friends who also run, spend time with E, and eat some GREAT FOOD (huge thanks to F&P who did the behind the scenes efforts to get us food/reservations at Giordano's, Takashi & The Little Goat.) It's good to have diligent food-oriented friends!

F&P are foodies.

Apparently Takashi Yagihashi is a big deal.

They found a Groupon (Chicago--Holla!) for Takashi.

So we did the 9 course omakase.

The fried course alone was worth it.

Embarrasingly, even post marathon, I couldn't finish the 7th course of pork belly.

(In my defense, I'd splurged on a post DNF cheeseburger and fries, but I could still put down this salmon.)

But, not this Udon dish.  It was delicious, but too much for me.

Dessert was amazing in that I thought I was completely unable to eat anymore, but I was wrong 1+ bite of each, and it was worth it.

 

CHI week -1

Let's be clear.  This week sucked on the running front.

I got a nasty (NASTY) cold from our trip to Colorado.  It may have been the infection that was making the rounds at all of my clients that I'd avoided (Which E had for 10 days of serious infectious-disease-security in our home where I didn't get it).  Or, perhaps it was something from the flight, exascerbated by the dry air and altitude, or perhaps the wedding with tons of little children and hand-shaking and hugging and whiskey tasting (but shouldn't the whiskey kill it?).

Regardless of the source of infection, I spent the week a snotty mess. Coughing all night (no good sleep).  Clearing all mucus and coughing in the AM and throughout the day, trying not to disgust clients (duh-- runs had to be modified).

In short, I'm still a bit sick and questioning what this means for Chicago.  But, I know that I'm in the home stretch, so I'm trying to be positive.

Obviously, I cut short several runs this week, but still managed 33.01 miles including 3 at my psuedo-target marathon pace (I'm thinking 10:15-10:45???), plus some low 9ish intervals and lots of long slow miles in the heat (did I mention that we had a heat wave this week?  yeah, today's 10 miles with the head cold in the 80+ gave me permission to just get it done -- 12:49 AVG (including walking with lemonade purchase and sipping breaks)).

All in all, I'm very happy to be healthy enough to hit the start line at Chicago next weekend.  I know I'll be able to finish and I'm looking forward to the experience.  I think I'll start with the 4:40 pace group (assuming they are in my corral) and hang with them 'til I know if I'm whipped or (hopefully) have way more to give).

Other than that, I have nothing to report, except, of course, that a running headlamp is hugely beneficial when doing a kitchen remodel and unable to cook dinner at night.  When you can't cook, making sandwiches or other composed meals to be picked up by hand is very handy.  To do so, at a minimum, you require ingredients and light.

Sometimes, our hobbies do serious double duty.