The last week, post-marathon, has been mild torture. Worse than taper because I’m not able to run at all. My coach, Kris, forbade me from running for 2 weeks after the Newport Marathon so that my legs can recover properly.
The last time I went 2 weeks without running was when I was injured. It sucks not running right now because (1) I love running, (2) I am a more pleasant person to be around when I run, and (3) my legs feel great and like they can handle running just fine.
Despite this, I’m listening to Kris and following her advice, which was dispensed because I went all-out for Newport, and I really do need to recover before I jump back into training for my next marathon.
So what have I been doing these last 10 days? Not blogging much, as you can tell from my infrequent posts.
I returned to eating crap and drinking beer and wine. Not much crap, although tortilla chips and I are back together in a big way. Reunited and it feels so good… Also not drinking much ETOH although I have enjoyed a beer or two or a glass of wine with friends.
I’ve spent a lot of time over the last 48 hours processing strawberries.
Yes, you read that correctly. I bought 2 full flats of the best strawberries in the world–local, organic strawberries–from the Olympia Farmers Market. These strawberries are the real deal. I wouldn’t sacrifice my baby-soft hands to wash, hull, and slice 24 F*ing pints of strawberries if they weren’t worth it. [Note: My hands are not baby-soft. However, post-processing of 24 mother-loving pints of strawberries, I feel like I had the first lizard-to-human claws transplant.]
So far I’ve frozen some of the strawberries for future use (such as smoothies), made a raspberry-strawberry crisp, and made a bunch of strawberry compote. I am also making strawberry-infused vodka.
That last one is the best use for these strawberries, if you ask me. The vodka, when finished, is bright red and tastes just like real, ripe strawberries (unlike that yucky flavored Absolut and Skyy crap)… except totally alcoholic, of course. It’s so good, I can’t even put it into words. I especially like it with soda and a little bit of mint. Mmmm. The recipe is here. Try it! You’ll thank me (and chef David Lebovitz, the creator).
When not eating, drinking, or preparing things to eat or drink, I’ve been reading a great book, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice in Love and Life from Dear Sugar, by Cheryl Strayed. Did you read Wild? That was Cheryl Strayed. I enjoyed Wild a lot more than I expected to, and I’m enjoying this book–a collection of letters seeking advice, and the responsive advice–a great deal more than I expected to, as well.
I’m not the kind of person who reads advice columns. Well, not anymore.
I read them when I was younger, just like I read horoscopes. I guess I feel that at my advanced age I’m not going to learn how to resolve certain things, or have any revelations, by reading advice columns.
I appreciate Tiny Beautiful Things, though, because Sugar (the pen name for advice maven Strayed) is blunt, honest, and sassy, yet compassionate and wise as hell. Even letters from people with vastly different situations than mine receive responses from Sugar that are so universal and deeply true that they apply to aspects of my own life. If you’re looking for a book and want to take a a break from fiction or traditional non-fiction, try Tiny Beautiful Things.
So, let’s see: what else have I been doing in addition to the above? Oh, hmmm, not much. Just working. A whole hell of a lot. I’m really busy at work, and that’s good because being busy at work is good, right? Plus it’s keeping my mind off of running.
How do you keep yourself from going looney tunes when you can’t run or do what you love to do?