Ice Breaker Challenge

I ran today for a loved one.  Actually, for the loved one of a loved one, which I guess is loved-one-once-removed, but these particular loved ones aren't going anywhere.  They will not be removed.  

The run today was a benefit for the Albany Rowing Center, ARC.  This club promotes and supports rowing and  I have some familiarity with it as a once-upon-a-time recreational rower and a spectator to those who were bitten by the rowing bug.   A million years ago, I was a rowing widow and I got to know some of those hardy rowing types. (If I ever witnessed my-then husband checking out girls it was in admiration of their potential to row.  True story.) One of the men I met through ARC died yesterday from cancer.  And today I ran.

Although I only knew Rex Babin casually on a personal level, his professional work said a lot about who he was.  Smart, daring, and strong.  He came, on my request, to a school I worked in many years ago,  to speak to the students about his work.  It was a pretty far drive, about 40 miles round trip, which is a lot to ask, but he was agreeable and did a wonderful job sharing his perspective and talent with a bunch of teenagers in Greene County.  I think I sent him a thank you letter.

And back to the run this morning.  I ran a path that would have been familiar to Rex Babin from his ARC days, surrounded by determined people stretching their muscles. There was a pink ribbon pinned to my UnderArmor for protection and inspiration.  My head was filled with thoughts of cancer and soft tissue and bones and being a warrior.  I improved my personal record today on this ice breaker, heartbreaker course.  

And then I came home and ate these waffles, with my boys.  FU, cancer.

                    

Mayor of Simpleton

image from: http://web.me.com

Sometimes I'm convinced that I'm a complete simpleton. I hear people talking about deep thoughts and intellectual pursuits and my eyes have a tendency to glaze over a bit. I'm not shallow or vapid, I just am more inclined to exercise my body these days than I am to stretch my brain. I'm interested in current events and history and the world's wonders, but I'm definitely not staying up late at night to debate these topics. I'm kind of living in the moment, enjoying my boys and imagining a future with love and happiness. I know people who are very concerned with material items and the "right" house in the "right" neighborhood, but I'm just not concerned with stuff like that. I guess I don't need much to be satisfied.  I like nice things, please don't misunderstand me, but I just don't need them. If I can be with the people I love, pay my bills, live a comfortable life, then I'm happy. It's that simple to me.

Running the other day, on a gorgeous day made to celebrate being alive, I was thinking about my home where I've lived longer than anywhere else before. I love my home, my neighborhood, my familiar possessions, but without them I'd still be at peace. As I ran past a field of raised ranches, a style of home I've always looked at with disdain, I knew in that moment that I could live there as long as I was with the people I love. Without a doubt, I knew I could, in fact, reside anywhere and be contented.  In the country, in a city, in a house in an apartment - anywhere. Because I'm truly happy on the inside.  And it really is true that if you're happy internally, fulfilled, then it is possible to live anywhere.  How liberating!  What amazing freedom!

In recent weeks I've been feeling a bit overwhelmed by social demands. It seems that each weekend (and often weeknights as well) arrives with obligations and opportunities and looking at my calendar is something that has been inspiring more dread than excitement. I am really looking forward to the upcoming spring break from school to recharge my batteries and I have been consciously leaving that week open, an exercise in saying "no" that I am sincerely working on. It's really difficult, though, to complain about a life that offers so many opportunities for fun and new experiences.

A home that I can take with me, loved ones, physical well being, adventures... Laura Ingalls Wilder was absolutely right: “It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.”

* No, not this guy!

It's All Good

I finally had a chance Saturday morning to get to All Good Bakers in their new DelSo location.  The space looks great - tidy, warm and inviting with the awesome aroma of baking bread. I poked around a little and was impressed with the variety of offerings - loaves of different shapes in varying shades of golden brown. I left with a couple of traditional white waxed bakery bags with bialys, cookies, rolls and a 2-day old loaf ($2!) of yummy bread that screamed French toast.  My overall impression was that this is staff of life bread - simple, wholesome, baked with care and quality ingredients, bread.  Not fussy or overwrought, but an essential, basic part of life.  Yeah, it's all good.

wholesome goodness

olive loaves

rolls, bialys, DelSo cookies

$2 deal of the day

French toast with All Good Bakers bread @chez Silvia

Meeting and Meat

I got up to Falvo's recently to pick up my corned beef along with some beef short ribs.  I've never bought a corned beef that was prepared "in-house" and I was curious to see if there would be a discernible difference between the more commercially, vacuum-packed variety.  And the short ribs?  They were on sale and the butchers at Falvo's do such a beautiful job trimming them that I couldn't resist.

I shop sales.  It's the only way I know to maximize my dollars and the Lilly boys do enjoy eating like princes.  I've gotten more savvy during this past year of being solely responsible for the grocery shopping and I don't mind making the effort to stop at the butcher every few weeks to stock up the freezer.  I find it particularly efficient to call ahead with my order so that it is prepared and packaged when I arrive.  I figure it saves me time and also allows the folks at the butcher to work at their preferred pace.  

When I arrived to pick up my items, I couldn't resist peeking at the beautiful meat in the deli cases.  The steaks looked great, as did the array of house made sausages.  But then my eye was drawn to a two-page print out of a blog posting from the Times Union.  A blog post from Vinoteca, the blog I contribute to a few times a month.  A blog post that I wrote!  I'm smiling as I type this because it really was one of the coolest things to come from my writing...

I introduced myself to the gentleman I perceive to be the owner, as the writer of that piece and we made a connection.  It turns out he had fielded my phone call when I called that afternoon from BJ's looking for rack of lamb.  We chatted a bit about the rack of lamb and the importance of supporting local independent businesses and the increase in the amount of lamb he is selling to those who read the piece as they shop.  Very, very cool. 

And the corned beef?  It was tender and flavorful and lean almost to a fault.  The salt content was a bit intense for me but I think I should have asked for some cooking instructions.  I ended up tossing it in the crockpot overnight in a pool of beef stock, but next time will use a combination of beer and plain water, maybe adding a peeled potato to absorb a bit of the salt from the brine.  It was a quality piece of beef for sure and I'll be happy to buy Falvo's corned beef in the future. 

Incredibly well adjusted

The first time I went to a chiropractor I was in a bad way.  Although I can't recall the exact nature of my complaint, I'm sure it originated in my lower back because that was where things used to hurt.  I remember being a bit hesitant about having my back "cracked" and feeling awkward about the process. I was skeptical about what the results would be, too. I mean, after all, it wasn't real medicine, right?

Lee Masterson, at Delmar Chiropractic at 204 Delaware Avenue, has been my go to guy since the practice opened in 1999, the year my middle son was born.  I was committed to having a natural childbirth experience and felt that it was important that my body be in alignment to facilitate this process. What I hadn't correctly anticipated was my need for regular adjusting post-birth.  I can't imagine I was alone in "bumping" my hip out to provide the perfect straddle spot to support my infant, yet my body took it personally.  And revolted.  

One of the things I most appreciate about Lee is his respect for the integrity of the body.  He works in concert with my spine, my muscles and my lifestyle to help me maintain my good health.  During the years when I struggled with back discomfort, he taught me to recognize and address my body's complaints and I feel much more confident in my ability to assess my state of wellness.  I make it a habit, particularly these days as I approach 20 miles of running per week, to check my posture and eyeball the levelness of my shoulder and hips.  When things don't feel or look right, I call Lee's office and arrange for a maintenance appointment.

I'm really fortunate to have health insurance which covers chiropractic care and a visit costs only a co-pay.  My oldest son as a toddler had an issue with a slightly inverted foot and Lee saw him for $3 a visit, his age at the time.  How's that for commitment to your practice?  On occasion over the years, I've seen other providers in the DC office and I have been consistently impressed by the care I've received. I certainly can't claim to be completely balanced in a life filled with boys, work and exercise, but I can say with complete confidence that my skeleton at least is very well adjusted.

The luck of the Irish

What a day I had on St. Patrick's Day! I mean how can a colleen complain about a day that included a flat 4 mile run, a creamy pint of Guinness and a vivid voice from the past reminding me who I am?

My day started with The Running of the Green (Island). I remember signing up for the race shortly after I participated in a 3.5 mile New Year's Day run and thinking that 4 miles seemed an awfully long way to run without stopping. Yesterday, though, between the camaraderie of a contingent of green-clad runners, the mild temperature, and the sun breaking through the clouds, it really wasn't too far to go. And that was before Karen and I had decided to celebrate our efforts with a pint.

On a day which typically means excess, particularly in Albany, Karen and I knew we were only having one. Seriously, it wasn't even noon - who the hell did we think we were? Our car pool rendezvous point had been the Corning Preserve parking lot so we headed over to the nearby Olde English thinking (correctly) that we would beat the overindulgent crowd. This was the maiden visit for both of us and we couldn't have been happier. Well, maybe if Matt had been there, but, that aside, it was the ideal spot and I very much look forward to returning on an occasion when I can sample a few more of the offerings.

And - that voice from the past? As is often the case, it came from the most unexpected place. I was tossing some crap out of my basement as I work towards being fully responsible for the condition of my home. There was a box of books that had been residing in the dankness of the cellar for a decade and a half and it was time to "discard"* them. As I removed one, a green envelope slipped out from between the swollen pages. Oddly enough it was a St. Patrick's Day card I received in 1992, my senior year of college. I had spent the first three weeks of that particular year in Ireland getting to know my father's family and was feeling very connected to my heritage. I returned to Albany with a new sense of self and an inner peace that I have done my best to nourish in the 20 years which have passed. The man who gave me the card had included some thoughtful words about my roots and my new found identity. While his words continued to touch me despite all the years which have gone by, what made the largest impact was my forced recollection of who I was then and who I want to be now.

The relationship I shared with that long ago man was romantic and passionate and filled with intensity. And doomed. There was no future in it and an observer to it once characterized it as creating more heat than light. She was right. But, as is consistent with all the human interactions we have, I learned from it and wouldn't be the person I am today without that experience. On a day of firsts, a reminder from the past seemed oddly appropriate and I'll be considering the message far longer than that delicious pint lasted.

*librarian talk for get rid of

The sharing of the green

image: albanysigns.com

Spending winter skiing at Albany Muni Capital Hills has been one of my favorite outdoor activities for many years.  The quiet beauty of the Normanskill, the cardinals and bluebirds, the sense of isolation in the midst of a residential neighborhood in a small city...it is a special place.

This winter, there wasn't a single day's worth of skiing there, for me.  The right conditions never arrived this year to entice me out to ski those hills and paths, yet,  I probably spent more time on those greens than ever before.  Running.

The coincidental timing of lack of snow and my excess of interest in running was perfect. The consolation was an easy one to swallow during the most mild winter I can recall and, as the almost anticlimactic seasons shift, I am struggling with giving the course exclusively back to the golfers.  With the date of the course opening moved ahead to today, St. Patrick's Day, I'm wondering if there isn't a way runners and golfers could share this wonderful jewel.

From what I understand (total hearsay), runners are not permitted on the course during posted hours.  The rationale I've heard involves the perils of golf balls and the distraction of Lycra clad joggers.  I understand how these may be dangerous to both those with the clubs and those with the Nikes, but are the risks to a runner greater than the dangers of riding in one of those golf carts?  Wouldn't the odds of a rider being hit by an errant golf ball be similar to those of a runner?  Has this been studied?  Damn it, is there empirical evidence?!?

I don't play golf but imagine there is a certain focus required to be an exceptional golfer. Seems to me that professional golfers hit the ball with thousands of people surrounding them.  The only behavior of the crowd that I've seen (on television when absolutely nothing else was on or I couldn't find the remote) corrected was their volume.  I mean, I've seen some shushing.  When I run, I don't really talk, so that wouldn't be a concern at all.  Promise.

With some creativity, mutual respect and a wee bit of luck I am certain golfers and runners could share the green.  No malarkey.