First race of the year: Done.

First podium of the year: Check

First race with the love of my life: Yup

Saturday morning, I geared up for the most anticipated race of the year (yep, most anticipated race is over and done with in January).  Ironmen are boring.  Marathons suck.  And duathlons, just too much running.  So what was I getting ready for? Brennan’s very first race.  Much like his mother’s, his training has been spotty the last few months.  But unlike his mother, he has an intensely high pain threshold and a natural tenacity, necessary to survive being chained to a tree for the first 8 mos. of your life and getting dumped on the side of a rural road with ears full of ticks.

I had been waiting for this race since its creation and first running last year (I missed it). Brennan and I have been talking about it.  Dreaming about it: Augusta’s Doggone Cold 5K to benefit the Hopeful Hounds Rescue.

So Saturday we woke up to mud and rain.  And 2 miles of the race were on a dirt road.  And I knew they would be a mud pit.  But I went out with the Bubs, so excited to be spending my Saturday doing something I love with someone I love (this must be what normal humans feel when racing with significant others…it’s a shame I’m not normal).  Before the gun went off, I was already soaked and knew that I (by myself) could run a sub 22min 5K.  But I had no idea what what Brennan could do.  So, I let him dictate the pace.  The gun went off…and so did we.

Mile 1: sub 7min…easy peasy, happy puppy.

Mile 2: pooping and puppy is getting tired, he forces a brief walk break (I welcome it).

Mile 3: we pick it back up and run on into the finish, passing all the people that passed us in mile 2.

You know all those sad maudlin posts I’ve been posting?  Well, this ain’t one of ‘em folks…because let me tell you, this was the most fun and happiest I’ve been in a year.  Even now, days later, my soul smiles thinking about how much fun I had.  I guess it really is amazing getting to enjoy a happy fun day with the one you love.  It’s a shame dogs aren’t allowed in a lot of other places. I have a feeling that I would be a lot happier if Brennan was omnipresent in my day to day dealings.

Lessons learned about running with pups? Have no real plans; you are not in control of this race.  Make sure the pup poops before the race.  Keep close to another dog ahead…it will encourage the desire to sniff that dog’s butt, thus increasing your dog’s speed.

Stats (ok, 5K race reports are weirdly hard to write…):

• Time: 22:53
• Splits: 6:55/7:55 (pooping)/7:14/?
• B’s placing: 2nd dog w/ female, 4th OA dog
• My placing: 6/201 females, 2nd AG

Upcoming (for me)…A return to Miami, the Miami half marathon, and Leanne! YAY!

Next up for Brenny: Atlanta Dog Jog 2-miler in May.

Well, hello 2012! Two weeks in, already?

Actually, time is not flying…in fact, on Saturday night when I skyped with my parents and I realized that it was only two weeks into the year,I started crying.  I really did…actually started crying.  This may be a sign of me being emotionally unhinged.  Or it may be a sign of how bad the year has been so far…and what it looks like ahead (oh, did I tell you I have specially set murder trials for the next three months?).

When I made the move here and upended my life in 2009, I had literally never been happier.  Over the last year that’s shifted some (a lot).  It started shifting with my health problems and declining athletic performance in the end of 2010, and rapidly plummeted with increased job stress (see e.g. and e.g.).  And I’m realizing that I need to figure out a way to get out out of this burned out funk.

It is pretty clear that I’m not happy with my life right now; but what is unfortunately not clear, is how to make myself happy.

So, I have some simple goals for the year ahead:

1. Get back my peace and happiness…which really requires figuring out what I want in my life and then going after it.
2. Figure out who I want to be…and become it.
3. Blog more…if I want to and if it helps.

Ok, they are super lofty goals.  And  really amorphous.  And, really go against all the goal setting rules.  But, I need a change.  But, I’m not sure what the change needs to be yet–just that a change is needed.  So, I guess this year is about figuring me and my life out.

Game on.

Hopefully, this means that I can move on and have a better 2012.

And finally a brief 2011 recap:

• Marathons run: 2
• Half-Marathons run: 2
• Ultramarathons started: 1
• Ultramarathons finished: 0
• Triathlons finished: 0 (what?! seriously)
• Personal Bests: 0
• Personal Worsts: 2
• Best Placement: 3OA female, Mistletoe Duathlon
• Number of races I was happy with: 1/3 (supremely happy with the bike portion of Augusta HIM)
• DNFs: 3
• DNSs: 4

Such a successful year…right?

End sappiness.  On to food.  Now that the weather is finally turning here in Augusta, I’m seeking out warm and belly-filling foods.  And fortunately, it just so happens that a dish from a few Thursday Night Dinners (or as I will now call them: TNDs) ago just about hits that spot.  Always.

ParmPolenta and Greens

• 1 tbps Olive Oil
• 2 White Onions, chopped
• 3 cloves of garlic, minced
• 3-4 small bunches of Greens, chopped
• 1 c. Polenta (or corn meal)
• 1 c. Milk
• Grated Parmesan
• 2 tbps Butter
• Salt to taste

1. In a pan over medium high heat, sauté onions and garlic until soft.
2. Add greens, sautéing until wilted and salt to taste.  Set aside.
3. In a medium saucepan, warm milk and butter.  Stir in polenta.  Continue stirring and adjusting polenta/milk ratio as needed until the polenta begins to slightly thicken (but not too thick) and soften, about 15-20 minutes.
4. Begin to stir in the greens and add parmesan cheese, stir until cheese and greens are full incorporated.
5. Eat!  No, seriously.  Eat.  You. Wont. Be. Able. To. Stop.

Now tell me, what good stick to your belly foods do you like when it starts getting cold?

So, for those of you who don’t remember, let me refresh your memory on my last year and a half of racing:

• Running sick into a bonk at GA ING Marathon (look at the pics at the end where it looks like I was punched in the eyes from being sick)
• A swealtery, pukey DNF at Eagleman 70.3,
• An undiagnosed-endocrine-problem-laden miserable race at IM Wisconsin.

Needless to say, I’d had a bad year.  I was starting to think the racing gods hated me.  So I backed off.

I was tired of shitty races.  I needed a break, and a break I had.  I haven’t really raced since the Ironman last year (save a little 26.2 jog through Boston in April) and have been gearing up for my poorly planned fall of races:

• 9/25 Augusta 70.3
• 10/2 Twin Cities Marathon
• 10/15 NF Endurance Challenge 50K
• 11/4 Savannah RnR 13.1
• 11/24 Atlanta Half Marathon
• 11/26 Zooma Atlanta Half Marathon

Yep, I planned 6 long races in the span of 8 weeks.  Not my best planning, but I was excited to hop on the fun race train again.  I mean, my racing had to be an improvement on last year?  Right? Right.

But anyway, I was feeling good about my 70.3.  I was feeling strong and ready.  And I felt a little throat scratchy yesterday.  And then this morning, I woke up ear-achey, throat-hurty, head-throbby, woozy, exhausty, fevery, miserable.

WTF.

Dear racing gods, what have I done to piss you off?  Why do you hate me so?

Anyway, I’ve spent the day in bed, sucking down water, gatorade, vitamin C, and tylenol.  I’m going to race tomorrow because I already ate the race entry fee for Eagleman 70.3 in June due to my continuing burnout and endocrine problems.  And gosh darnnit, I’m not eating another $270+ race entry fee that could have instead been spent on puppies and vacations and books.

Coach says if I have a fever tomorrow, no racing.

I say, what he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.

Seriously, has anyone else gotten sick right before a big race?  With all these horrible races, I’m starting to have a crisis of faith…maybe it’s not worth it.  Maybe I should just give up forever like I almost did after Ironman Wisconsin.  Has anyone been here before?  If so, how do I fix it?  Help!

Ok, to bed.

ps. totally don’t judge me if it is a horrible race for me.  I promise I’m not as slow as I’ve been the last year…or am I?

Needless to say I’ve had a little rough racing season.

I’m not sure where all the motivation in my life has gone.

Like, it’s hard for me to get through even a 30-minute workout. Not because I’m tired.  But just cause I don’t feel like it.

Working two jobs is exhausting.  And I don’t have time to cook good food.  And I don’t do yoga anymore.  And most days, the poor neglected puppy doesn’t get a walk.  Most days, I come home from work and sleepwalk until I have to get up and head out to the jail again.  And I hate this.  And I hate what my life has become.  It’s been months since there has been any kind of joy in my life.  It’s been months since I’ve lived my life.  Things need to change.

The sad thing is I’m at a loss for how to change it.  I’m standing here, with a, for all intents and purposes, wonderful life and yet I’m just so unhappy.  It’s moderately amusing that I’ve ended up here because I was miserable in my last job.  And the layoff and move to Augusta saved me. It saved me and for the first two years of my lfie here I was happy.  I was carefree and happy.

And yet, since the two year mark, when I got a promotion, my happiness has been on a steady decline.  I’m not sure that it can go any lower at this point.  We’re not talking “pull the covers over my head and not coming out of bed” depressed (and believe me, I know what that’s like.  Been there, done that.  A lot.).  But, I have no zest for life.  Nothing makes me happy.  Nothing inspires me.  Nothing allows me to relax or smile just a little bit.  Except alcohol.

And that’s not good.  So, I’ve stopped drinking much.

The moral of this story?  How do I figure this shit out?  I HAVE NO IDEA.

All I know is I WANT to live again. But right now there is just a lot of apathy because apathy, while miserable, is easy.

In September, and starting tomorrow, I have to start figuring this shit out.  I don’t know how I will do it.  But, I have some ideas.  Like blogging again…because then I will stay more on track.  It’s like food blogging for weight loss…but with happiness.

I want to start blogging again.  I WANT to WANT to blog like I did when I started two years ago.  I WANT to WANT to run like I did when I was in good shape.  I WANT to WANT to walk the bubs like when I first got the boy.  I WANT to WANT to cook like when I first started experimenting in the kitchen. I want to feel like me again.

I want and need to wake up in the morning and WANT to get out of bed.  To not dread the upcoming day.  Part of that will be changing things in my life.  Part of that will be savoring things in my life.

I need my zen, my zest, my joviality back.  I NEED MY PEACE.

And if I work at it, I think I can do it before the year is out.

It’s that time of the year again.  That time when, as a single girl, you regret having planted 25+ different tomato plants in your garden because your fridge is filled with at least 750X more than you could ever eat in a year or two.

Fortunately, there is canning and freezing…but honestly, sometimes canning is a bigger pain in the rear than I want to deal with.  Oh yea, and canning stewed tomatoes and tomato sauce involves the stove.  And I live in Georgia.  And it’s 80bagillion degrees here already and my AC bill is already almost as much as my mortgage.  So, that’s where this comes in.

Artichoke and Avocado Gazpacho

tomatoey, check.  cold, check. super easy, check.

Ingredients:

• 5 cups chopped tomatoes (any kind…I used a combo of different heirlooms and a beefsteak or two)
• 2 peeled, chopped cucumbers
• 2 roasted red or yellow peppers, peeled, seeded, and chopped.
• 3 cups tomato juice
• 1/3 c. red wine vinegar
• 1/3 c. lemon juice
• 3 tbsp. chili sauce
• 2 handfuls of chopped cilantro
• 2 handfuls of chopped parsley
• 1.5 c. quartered artichokes
• 1 avocado, chopped
• salt and pepper to taste

1. Mix together all ingredients and let sit for an hour to let all flavors meld.
2. There is no step 2.
3. Eat.

Ok guys (if there are any of you still out there reading this blog…), give me more tomato ideas!

I spend a lot of time video skyping with my wonderful, beautiful, brilliant friend Ariela.  She also happens to be the uber talented graphic designer who designed my blog.  I often promise her that I will start updating my blog again.

And I do.  For two days.

And then I fall off the face of the earth.

And, as always, I have excuses.  This time it isn’t an Ironman.  This time it’s a “promotion.”  It’s in quotations because what passes as a promotion in my office is getting the same pay, same title, with added stress, heightened consequences, and boatloads more work.  I’ve been wanting this for a while.  But the grass is greener, people.  It is fucking always greener on that mother-fucking other side.

Since starting this new position, I’ve spent many hours crying, many hours obsessing over clients, many hours at the bar with coworkers.

My job is not all flowers and puppy dogs.  Ok, it’s not flowers and puppy dogs at all.  And when I come home after dealing with horrible, depressing things like murder and people drop-kicking kittens (true story) and clients dying in prison, I feel weird and guilty to turn my sights to cooking and eating and blogging about delicious food.  Because it seems so inconsequential and shallow.  Because I feel like with the job that I have, with people’s lives in my hands, I should be spending every minute working.  I feel guilty for every minute spent on myself because that is one less minute spent researching a case, investigating witnesses, talking to the DAs, prepping for trial.

Don’t get me wrong, this doesn’t mean that I spend 24 hours a day in the office.  Or even 12 hours for that matter.  It just means that when I come home, work is with me, and I can’t enjoy my life.  I can’t enjoy my life because everything is tinged with guilt for having a life.  I may go for a run, but I feel guilty because in the grand scheme of things I should be working.  I may cook my self a delicious dinner, but I feel guilty because in the grand scheme of things, I should be working.  I end up numbing out and sleepwalking through life because I can’t handle the constant and overwhelming barrage of guilt.

I’ve always had a hyper sense of “laziness.”  Heck, in law school when I decided to get a master’s in addition to my law degree, I still felt like I was being lazy.  So, I overcompensate by working myself until I collapse.

But, it always ends the same way: a burned out, emotionally exhausted, mess of a Pen.  I’d like to say that I’m “headed in that direction.”  But I’m not headed there.  I’m smack dab in the middle of that shit. You know it’s bad when people ask you how you like your new position and you burst out in tears.  Or you spend every second of every day dreaming of a day off.

It’s not so much the position, even.  It’s the fact that I’ve neglected to care about my life nearly as much as I care about my clients’. So, begins the taking care of myself.  I honestly am no good to my clients when I’m like this because I’m tired and angry and short-tempered and oh so apathetic (but not so apathetic that I don’t feel guilty about being apathetic…note: if you ever want to know someway to feel guilty about EVERYTHING in your life, come to me.  I’m an expert.).  I wish I could write more about my job on here, I think the venting would help…but we all know what happens with that .

So, instead, I’m just going to move on and enjoy that I get to enjoy flowers and sunshine and puppy dogs and cupcakes in my non-work life.

As a little Greek girl, there is nothing better than delicious, buttery, flaky phyllo dough prepped to perfection.  I was fortunate enough to grow up with a phyllo-master father and my belly was often treated to scrummy baklava, spanakopita and tiropitas.  To this day, my comfort food is good spanakopita.

So, when I was informed by my doctor that my body was producing gluten antibodies and told that I needed start a gluten-free diet, I knew I had to have one last hurrah before saying goodbye forever, and that’s when I pulled out my pastry brushes and went on a search for decent phyllo in Augusta (btdubs, it doesn’t exist…there is only “ok phyllo” and “crappy phyllo”).

Yiayia’s Spanikopita

Ingredients:

• 3 packages of frozen spinach, chopped
• 2 large onions, chopped
• olive oil
• 1/2 c. feta cheese
• 6 oz. cottage cheese
• 5 eggs, separated
• dill & mint (fresh if possible)
• salt and pepper
• phyllo dough (thawed)
• butter.  lots.

1. Thaw spinach and drain thoroughly. (You’ll want to squeeze out the spinach and handful by handful.  It helps if the spinach is not hot.  That burns your hands like a bitch.)
2. In a large skillet, saute the onions in olive oil until soft.
3. Add spinach and saute a few minutes longer, allowing any additional water to evaporate.
4. Remove from heat, and mix in feta, cottage cheese, dill, mint, salt and pepper.
5. Fold in egg yolks.
6. Beat egg whites until soft peaks form.  Fold whites into spinach mixture.
7. In a 9X13in dish, line bottom with 10-15 sheets of phyllo, generously buttering each sheet.
8. Top phyllo with spinach mixture.
9. Top the spinach with the remaining phyllo, buttering each sheet.*

*The key to good phyllo cooking is LOTS of butter and moving quickly so the phyllo doesn’t dry out.

After filling my belly…and consuming the entire 9X13 dish (over a few days)…I have settled in to what will be some of the hardest few months of my life.  I embark on a journey of a lactose-free, fructose-reduced, gluten-free, vegetarian diet.  And then I get to add things back in, bit by bit, to see what it is that is making my belly swell up like a beach ball when I eat a meal.  Yay.

Goodbye gluten, I will always love you.  But, it’s me, not you.  I’m sorry.  We’ve had a good run.  And you’ve been a good friend.  Kinda.

*yes.  I know this isn’t a word.

Many of my clients have probation revocation hearings, either because they haven’t reported to probation in 5 years or because they catch a new (or many new) charge(s).  They always tell me they don’t want to be revocated.  Not revoked.  Revocated.  Ladies and gents, just in case you didn’t know, revocated is not a word. But, if they can use that, I can use resolvations.  (In a slightly related note, I recently heard a client say he had a “revokeshun hearing…” Yep.  Revoke.Shun.)

Anyway, every year, I make resolutions that are vague and broad and nearly impossible to meet.  And every year, I never meet those goals.  This year, however, I’m going to make just ONE big vague goal.  And break it down from there, Gretchen Ruben-style.  Each month I’ll pick little things that add up to my big goal to focus on and track my progress with a resolution chart. But instead of Ruben’s Happiness Project, this will be my Year of Growing Up.

This year’s resolution: Become the Grown-Up I want to be.

I turned the big 2-7 or 3 to the 3rd late last year.  It was relatively uneventful until I realized that I had entered the period known as my late twenties.  When I was 15 or 17 or 21, if you had asked me what I thought I would be doing in my late twenties, I would have spewed typical stuff in a grown-up life.  Married, maybe a child on the way, big grown-up job, house with a white picket fence.  And, if we’re honest, I do do grown-up stuff, just minus the husband and kids.  I own my own house, I’m a lawyer, I take care of two incredibly needy animals, one of which is terminally ill.  I cook, I garden, I read way more than I watch tv.  There’s no question, I’m a grown-up.  An adult.  It sneaks up on you, but, it happens.  And I’m ok with that.  I have no problem being an adult.  Heck, I think it is WAY better than being a teenager or a student.  I may grumble about getting up at 7am every morning.  But I like having a steady income and the predictability of gowing to work everyday.  But, there is still room for me to grow into my big kid shoes.

I’m still not the grown-up I want to be.  When I was a kid, it was so evident that my friends’ parents idiosyncrasies shaped who my friends had become.  No doubt, it was a mix of nature and nurture; but, parents’ personalities determine certain things in their child’s life.  I would imagine what kind of adult I would be and I definitely had an ideal in mind.  My childhood adult-ideal was certainly a superficial idea of what I thought was cool and over the years, I have steadily and slowly turned into my parents.  In a good way.  But, in my mind, the grown-up that I want to be hasn’t yet been fully formed.  The grown-up who reads and doesn’t watch tv.  The grown-up who wakes up and enjoys the morning on a run.  The grown-up who keeps a clean house and clutter-free existence.  The grown-up who gives to those she loves and has time to volunteer.  The grown-up who doesn’t eat goldfish crackers and red wine for dinner because she is too lazy to cook.

January Mini Goals: The Grown-Up Basics

• Make Bed Every Day
• Spend 1hr a day solely devoted to Brennan
• Clean 15 minutes a day
• Yoga or Meditation for 15 minutes a day
• Out of the bed when I get up (no more hour long snooze button sessions)
  
• Keep a gratitude journal
• Update Quicken budget everyday

Most of these are short goals that can be accomplished in 15 minutes or less.  Except the hour devoted to Brennan.  But that will be fun and great for Brennan.  I might even reward myself with a gold star if I complete all my mini-goals in a day.  And no, I don’t think the gold-star takes away from the growing-up I’m trying to do.  Grown-ups like gold stars.

Today?  Well, does it count if you are sick and you don’t do things?  Because, really, I stayed in bed all weekend.  And my entire weekend was spent sleeping and occasionally waking up to watch an episode of Pysch on Netflix.  I think even grown-ups get sick days.  Right? Right.

Happy New Years, Folks!  What are y’all’s resolutions?