A runner’s dilemma

With each passing year I slowly discover more and more as to why running is so right for me. Starting this training season over two months ago I’ve maintained a consistent schedule and between January and February, increased my mileage by fifty percent! My pace is improving in ways I never thought it could (and that has only been in the last week). When I start to see improvements like these I get even more energized about my capabilities and the possibilities that lie before me. Some new changes are about to make keeping energized a bit more complicated.

For several reasons I had a food intolerance test completed and recently received the results back. The test is designed to inform you what foods that you have a difficult time digesting, or do not digest at all. Often there are food combinations that can also have this same effect. My naturopath presented me with the findings with a warning that I might not like her shortly thereafter. My main intolerance is FRUIT. Simply put, I cannot digest it. Sad news. Especially when you start to think about what it all means. Fruit was a main staple of my diet. Breakfast, snacks, snacks, and more snacks. Post-run, I’d whip up a smoothie with bananas, whey protein powder, kale, blueberries, almond milk and flax seeds.

i will miss you most of all

Okay so blueberries and bananas.. But there was more. I have a hard time digesting grains and dairy within 8 hours of each other. That also meant my smoothie was really doing a doozy on me. Whey protein = dairy and flax seeds are considered grains. I needed to find a new after run alternative, but more importantly I had to find a way to replace what fruit used to do, give me the strength to run. Fruit is baked into just about every granola bar and a participant in nearly ever energy gel… except the Chocolate and Mocha Clif Shots! Bonus? They taste like Duncan Hines frosting. Yes! Get some. I’ve also been able to find a few other Clif bars that are acceptable (Trail Mix Bar and Clif Builders Vanilla Almond).

So you may think, fruit, okay so that’s not that hard, just don’t eat things with fruit in them. But besides the fruit and grain/dairy combo there are a few other things wreaking havoc on my digestive system.

• WINE!, Olives, olive oil, cashews, regular honey, most vinegars, coconut, nutmeg, palm oil, citric acid, and acetic acid.

FYI, citric acid is in EVERYTHING. Now, I spend a lot more time (than I did before) reading labels, getting a little frustrated, but resting assured I just need to work a little harder to find the foods that work for me. I’ve just begun a six-week strict regimen of keeping all the anti-foods out of my system to see if I regain energy and eliminate some of the symptoms I’ve been having.

There are many silver linings to my new-found food life. I get to experience foods that I wouldn’t normally eat or even try. MELONS!, tomatoes and avocados are all okay for me, despite their official fruit status. Win. I’m looking at this change as a modification of the next weeks of my life. If I experience the changes I hope to see these will become permanent changes to keep me healthy for years to come.

If you have any food tips on what is fruit-free I’d love to hear them! I’m so tired of snacking on veggies!

 

Home fry

I love music. I spend most of my day listening to the radio, humming along. I don’t get a lot of range as the radio finds itself plagued with monotony, but occasionally I will stumble upon a new act and instantly I’m hooked.

A few years ago I discovered a new guy named Mat Kearney. He was doing a free show for a local radio station alongside a new band named Augustana. I figured free meant these unknowns weren’t going to be very good, but I was amazed at the shows they put on. I was stoked to learn that Mat grew up in Oregon. Talent does find its way out of Oregon and onto the main stage.

Since then, Mat has put out three albums. A self titled release, City of Black and White, and Young Love. Friday night was the long overdue stop home near the end of his tour. Months ago I alerted my concert going pal (she was also with me at his first show) about his impending arrival and she was immediately on board.

The last few years the number of shows we’ve found ourselves attending have diminished, and our ability to hang at each of them has dwindled significantly. We keep telling each other we are getting old. This show was being held at one of the scummiest venues in Portland, The Roseland. The place is dark, dank, and violating several fire codes I am almost certain. It’s a place where you’d see Metallica or Korn, leaving you feeling defiled upon departure. A guy out front of the venue asked us if we had $100 bill that we wanted to give him. Just because.

The opener was a guy I’d ever heard of named Robert Francis from LA, and I still have no clue. I was not impressed. I couldn’t tell if he was a hippie, stoner, or punk. Maybe all three. I guess he’s practically at home here. Mat’s set was amazing and probably the best show I’ve seen in ages. He made a call out to the crowd to see how many musicians were amongst us, and found a drummer he brought up on stage to help play a song. Great stuff.

We surprised ourselves by staying for the entire show. A first in years.
As we slowly filed out of the cramped theatre, we snickered at the mostly drunk, wobbly patrons who zig zagged down the steep staircases and onto the awaiting drug dealers that lurked on the sidewalks. On our jaunt back to the car a homeless man panhandling for his next 40oz tried to compliment some coin out of us by saying we were hotter than the Kardashian sisters. Bless his heart.

I already knew that.

 

Friends? maybe. lovers? no.

Racism. Of all the things we’ve overcome as a society, racism is one of those things that will forever be. There. Lingering. As much as I’d like to think that we can all live in harmonious bliss and love each other for all of our differences, the color of your skin will not be something we see beyond. True. We’re a long way from segregated bathrooms, supermarkets, and schools, but too many people possess an uneasy feeling when it comes to people of another race not their own.

With each generation I believe we become more accepting of each other. We’re making progress. As kids in my generation learned about slavery of yesteryear and the riots in the 60′s, most of what we learned in history books was deeply antiquated and out of touch. Some of what we heard (and may have adopted as our own) were our parents or even grandparents personal beliefs where people of other races were concerned. Words describing non-whites were often heard as ‘blacks’, ‘coloreds’, ‘spics’, ‘negroes’, ‘oriental’, and so on. Social stigmas and stereotypes were perpetuated by jokes and the way characters were cast (and played out) in television and movies. We grew up as a generation on the border, teetering on the edge of clinging to old ideals or choosing to make our own decisions.

I’ve been in earshot of many racist and/or stereotyped jokes in my years and have always shrugged them off and felt a sense of uneasiness when they were told. They weren’t aimed at me, but I have never believed that I could change someone’s opinion where ignorance was concerned and didn’t find wasting the energy to do so a worthy task. Perhaps I’m guilty of perpetuating the problem by ‘checking out’.

I recently finished Diane Farr‘s latest book Kissing Outside the Lines about interracial dating, marriage, and procreation. It’s a hilarious, poignant, informative, eye-opening read on the joy, laughter, pain, and fighting courage it takes to be in a relationship of mixed races. Diane tells her story of meeting her future husband, their families, and the journey it took to become accepted as a whole person. She also shares the ups and downs of many other couples who have dealt with the ignorance of family members’ resistance in accepting their relationships, mate(s), and children. The challenges presented to these couples were vast and when some people might simply give up at the sheer difficulty, many of them forged through and remained a bonded unit.

It was somewhat surprising to read about these couples and how many grew up being told by their parents (and other family members) that they could not date outside of their race, religion, or belief system. Many were okay to be ‘friends’ with but never be someone you could choose as a spouse. In some instances the once outcast suitor became accepted by the shunning family once they got to know that person, and for some acceptance never came.

As a nation we have indeed made leaps and bounds in the past fifty years in an attempt to eradicate racism, but just because there isn’t a sign next to the drinking fountain that says COLORED, doesn’t mean ignorance doesn’t exist. Sadly, for many it still does. I hope books like ‘Kissing..’ help to inform people about mixed race relationships and that more novels are published dealing with human interaction of all shapes, colors, and creeds.

 

Houseguest(s)

Did you ever see the movie Houseguest starring Sinbad and Phil Hartman? What. A. Riot. I’ve probably see the movie a handful of times but the comedy still resonates. One word. Shenanigans. Although I’ve never had a house guest like Sinbad, I love when I get to play hostess.

Yesterday a friend posted this on Facebook,

For me? Sad, but true. I keep a tidy house, but I disdain the little things. Dusting, dusting, and okay just dusting. If I could get myself to hire someone to come dust my house once a month, I would. Shouldn’t I feel like a lazy asshole for not doing it myself? It seems like a waste of money, but it would be one thing I wouldn’t be stressing over. Yes, I stress about a clean space. I don’t accumulate a lot of knickknacks for the very reason that I do not like to dust.. More items, means more things to stop and touch up. No thanks.

I LOVE when people come to stay. As much as I could never have a roommate (that wasn’t a boyfriend) I do enjoy when there is more than one person under the roof. Makes the place feel a bit more lived in, homey. Tis the time where I kick up my heels and get this house in guest-worthy order. I’ve had friends tell me in the past that my house is always so clean, but it’s not usually clean enough for me. My next guests (Carly and Kevin) arrive from the North on Wednesday for a short stay and Kevin’s first time to Portland! I have no idea what we’ll do while they’re here but I’m just thrilled to have company.

Now, where did I put that dusting stuff?

 

Friends help friends skate safely.