Monday, March 24, 2008

I'm running the distance ... and running for speed


This past weekend brought another race - the Pirates Cove Trail Run - at 20k this was my longest run in years, and probably the most painful. The race started with a 1,000 foot climb for the first mile, then, running atop the crest of the headlands and overlooking the Bay, coasted for about 3miles. Down into Tennessee Valley, back up another 1k feet, down and up again until I could no longer feel my feet.

I finished in under 2hours coming in 30th place (5th woman) and now utterly hooked on trail races. The good news is all the SF hills have prepared me for the trail runs.

Next up, either B2B or the San Diego Rock 'n Roll marathon - I can't decide. The problem with runner's high is I keep signing up for longer and longer races.

Monday, March 17, 2008

Green with Irish


It's St. Patrick's Day and the streets are packed. Walking home I enjoyed a chuckle seeing throngs of people migrating to the English pub in the financial district. Confused? No - the Irish pubs were all so full that police were manning the fronts.


Fun SF fact:

Watching the history channel this evening we learned that the Buena Vista restaurant down the street is the #1 whiskey restaurant in the US selling nearly 2,000 Irish coffees ... daily. Yes, daily. In a tourist city I guess every day is a weekend day. It doesn't hurt that the Buena Vista is at the tail end of the trolley line and parked near Ghirardelli Square.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Another 12k kinda day


This morning I woke at the inappropriate (for a Sunday) hour of 6am for the Emerald Nuts 12k "the race across the Bay." While tying on my shoes I had the momentary 'what am I doing here when I could still be in there' argument thinking wistfully of my soft bed. But no, I paid the $35 so game on. It's a bit sick that my best motivation is paying to do something - oh, that and the shirt. But I do like adding to my collection of running shirts.


Jamie and I met up on Bay St. and made our way to Acquatic park. There were thousands of runners stretching and shivering - while it wasn't raining, which had been in the forecast, it was freezing cold with the wind taking the chill off the top of the water and directing it on us. After getting my number, we boarded big yellow school buses and made our way over to Sausolito.


Side note - school buses have come a long way - they have seat belts now and the seats are taller than they used to be (likely an attempt to make it impossible for kids to climb over (which I'm sure they still find a way to do)).


Once in Sausalito we waited, and waited, and waited. By the time the race was actually supposed to start, I couldn't feel my legs - literally! My feet were so cold I wasn't even sure if I was walking to the start line or not - the only way I actually knew was that the scenery was changing. After the mile two mark my legs started the thaw a bit - I had a Forrest Gump moment of running with my (ice) bindings flying off and being free of the chill. The problem with this glorious FG moment was that through the rest of the race I had a southern drawl voice stuck in my head saying "and I was ru-u-unning!"


I finished the race in under an hour putting me at 8.5min miles.


Next up, Bay to Breakers!

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

(Read with weird throaty music sound in background) - bmm chck bmm chck

For the past four years off and on we've had a "Taco Tuesday" ritual at Nick's Crispy Tacos up the street. It used to be the perfect ism setting with pinatas, sombreros, reggae, and great Mexican (that inevitably left my stomach reeling due to the mass quantities of oily hot sauce).

After letting our ritual lapse for a month (the work thing got in the way), Linz, Steve, Matt and I made our way back to our friendly jaunt. It seems we've either aged 50years in the past month, or the crowd has somewhat declothed and dropped inhibitions. There's still the great food, and the odd ambiance (did I mention the red mirrored walls, chandeliers, and painted women mixed in with the Mexican garb)? Only now the music is club beat, the other diners are half clothed and jirating (instead of eating ... the ones eating trying so hard to look cool but dropping bean burrito down their shirts), and the flirts flying.

I wonder if Nick's has an early bird special?

Monday, March 10, 2008

Don't judge a cover...


We've all heard the saying "don't judge a book by it's cover," and we all know it's petty and wrong to judge a person by their cover.


I recently bought Thoreau's Walden to (re)expand my creative side (it seems all the great lit and history I studied as an English minor in college has been replaced with Us Weekly and PerezHilton.com). The cover is pretty bleak...so are the contents so in this one the judgement is allowed. This afternoon I bought Skinny Bitch - a recommendation by a co-worker (not sure what he was hinting at - some lesson?), so my philosophy-filled-soul-searching is evened out.


So on the people note ... this morning when I was walking to work (carefully avoiding strangers leaning over mailboxes), I saw a short wizened man with a huge gray fro, a pink beach wrap (the kind you buy for $9.99 in Mexico), a button up shirt, wool socks, and tan moccasins taking all the free newspapers out of the paper bin. To sell? To use as a city-wide-liner (like a bird cage)? To read, take notes, read again? I had a fleeting moment of judgment, I'll admit.


This afternoon after Bar Method, I realized I did not come prepared with walk home clothes. Instead of sneakers or proper sweats, I was covered with spandex, a red jacket, white socks, and black shoes - very Michael Jackson meets guy-in-tree from Pretty in Pink meets Little Red Riding Hood. Half way home while weaving through the streets of China Town I experienced yet another karmic reprieve - a Chinese family was pointing and laughing. I was judged. Oy vey. Live, and learn.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

And we were ruuuning (insert Forest Gump voice here)


This morning we woke at the treacherously early (for a Saturday anyhow) hour of 7am and suited up. I did my usual running routine - left the clothes out last night with a candle burning for good luck (something I learned from Aunt Elsa when I was a kid), and somehow convinced Matt to come with me for the China Camp race. Upon arriving at the race grounds, I found some fellow running groupers and was quickly put to shame as they were all gearing up for a 20k and I was nervous about my whopping 10k.


The event started with hundreds of people singing the national anthem, and then the kickoff of the 20k. After the uber sporters took off, Matt got a running bug (nutter) and decided to race! He ran over and signed up, and 5min later he was standing beside me with a race number on.


We ran together most of the race and Matt let me take off in the end bringing my mile average down to 8:30. Raddness, pure raddness. Now I have the bug and I just signed up for a marathon...could be the run, could be the bloody mary I'm drinking while being serenaded by Rob, Emily, and Matt as they practice playing guitar (and some other stringed instruments) for their wedding.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

I am so grossed out

Sometimes with this city I’m walking on clouds Mary Tyler Moore style feeling so lucky to live here. Other times, I’m trying to control my gag reflex.

Last night Ryan and I made it through another kick ass (literally – we had to kick our bums) Bar Method class. After class we walked our shakey bodies to the wine bar nearby where seated ourselves at the bar (hoodies, yoga pants, and all). The night was a true ism … all I have to say is don’t sit in the one booth in the bar. Just trust me on this one. OK, I’ll give you a hint – it seems that certain SFites have made this their personal hotel. Enough said. The weird part is it’s a really really nice wine bar and we can’t wait to go back.

The grossness continues – this morning walking to work I saw a homeless man leaning over the mailbox. I couldn’t figure out what he could be mailing, so I looked closer. Not mailing a thing. Just peeing. All over the mailbox and street. I couldn’t jump fast enough and stepped in it causing me to nearly loose this morning’s breakfast and last night’s cheese plate. I think my feet are wet now and I want to disinfect my entire body. Ew. Yuck. I could vomit if I keep talking about this so I’ll stop.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

I'm a winner baby

Sunday's I run with a group in Chrissy Field (and beyond ... not in the Toy Story sense). Today we started off with a short run (~5.5mi) and then "enjoyed" the "feats of strength" session hosted by a trainer, and the wife of one of the star runners. I can barely walk now - but I'm a winner! I've never been able to do pushups, but today, for some odd reason (or maybe just my uber competitive nature) I won the pushup session! Rad. R-a-d Rad.

Saturday, March 1, 2008

The great pickup

Tonight Matt and I donned one of our usual jaunts - Pesce - up the street for dinner. We sat at the bar (our favorite - best service and more stories) and enjoyed oysters, tuna, pork, and wine. A (short but amazingly loud for her height) woman came in and sat two seats down. Then a group of cougars. An hour or so later (we like to luxuriate in our dinners - heck, expensive enough, why not?) a man in his 40s or 50s. The rest was the usual crowd.

Just as we were wrapping up dinner I eavesdropped on an excellent conversation:
Man: I'll have two oyster shots without the vodka and a pink-drink-I-don't-remember-the-name-of. (commentary - why order the shot when you get the exact same thing but in a do-it-yourself style for half the price).
Woman: Oh, that sounds good (the drink), what's it called again?
--time passes--
Man: This drink is quite good ... but not made right.
Woman: Send it back. Hey Lis, can you take a look at this? (The woman obviously knew her peeps here).
Man: I love this place, I come here all the time. In fact, I never cook - I only cook once a month and it's for a dinner party but other than that I eat out every single meal. (commentary - nasty. Grow up. Gross.)
Woman: I own this place (!!!) and come here occasionally - it's one of the three I own. Where else do you go?
Man: Wow...well, I've been on a Thai kick, and have tried x ... y ... z ...
Woman: Oh, z is the third place I own. I see.
Man: Well, then I need to try it again. Anyhow, I'm organizing a dinner and need help - what would you suggest?
Woman: Tell me the invitees, I'll tell you the menu (amazing).
(muffled talk I couldn't understand).
Man: You know, once a friend of mine went to a restaurant and met the owner, and he was such an amazing cook, they talked about food and what he could could all night. Then he brought her home to show her his kitchen and...um...talk about food.

Lamest pickup line I've ever hear.

Rad.