{ lindsay's lens }

Running Resolutions, or, What I've Learned from Being (Kind of) Injured. Part One.

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Wed, 01 Jun 2011 19:28:00 +0000

The last three weeks have been, in a word, hard.

After the Nashville ½, I had some discomfort in the outside of my upper calf. It went away in time for me to run in Wisconsin, but I had some pretty disconcerting pain following that race--a sharp twinge when I stepped down and twisted at all. A week off, and no better, my massage therapist noted that I was a smidge swollen near my ankle. A light went off-I’d been reading enough to know that swelling is usually present in the case of a stress fracture, and that they often happen near the ankle. When I tried to run the next day, I had pain from outside of my ankle up to my upper calf—also classic stress fracture. I got off the treadmill at ½ mile, went home, and made an appointment with an orthopedist. Two weeks and one MRI later, the pain was still bad.

The day before my results appointment, Memorial Day, I wallowed in self-pity. For one thing, I was in pain. My leg was achy and I was trying to stay off it as much as possible. I was not allowed to wear cute shoes. Further, I was confident that the next morning the doctor would say “You have not one, but two stress fractures. Take 8-12 weeks off running. You may swim (barf) or bike. When you start back to running, you can walk 4 minutes and run 1.”

At that rate, I’d be looking at 5k’s in the fall, not the two ½ marathons I have had my eye on--then 10k’s in the winter, and possibly a ½ next spring. NEXT SPRING. I got pretty low. At this point I’d been 3 weeks without a run (save that painful ½ mile) and not only was I missing my endorphins, I was also staring down the barrel of MONTHS of not running.

Tuesday morning, I walked into the doctor’s office to get the results. It was far different than what I’d steeled myself for.

“Shin splints.”

“Huh?”

“Shin splints. That’s all I could find on the MRI. They’re just not presenting normally. Two more weeks of bike and swim to get it calmed down. More naproxen. Whatever shoes you want. And some PT to learn some stretches.”

“Huh?”

“This is a good thing. Smile.”

So I did. I smiled A LOT. And then I texted everyone I've been whining to for the last three weeks.

I’ve heard that with injuries like these (stress fractures, stress reactions, shin splints, other overuse injuries) that you will be in pain for a good long while. Then, when you turn the corner, it is sharp and swift. Well, for whatever reason, I think I also turned the corner yesterday (3 weeks and 3 days since the Wisconsin Marathon). Psychosomatic? Maybe, but my leg is decidedly better today. And I’m beyond thrilled.

But in all that non-running time, I had a lot to think about, and grappled pretty early on with what could be learned from this injury. And I’ll share those in a couple of posts, starting with the most important one…

DON’T DISCOUNT YOUR ACCOMPLISHMENTS.

It took me a LONG time to say “I’m a runner.” I started running in 2007. I ran several 5k’s and a 4-mile race in 2008 and a 10k in 2009. But I didn’t feel like a runner then, nor after my first slow, painful ½ marathon in 2010. It was slow and painful! They were all slow and painful! Runners aren’t the ones who have the slow, painful runs, right? Even after my much improved time for my 2^nd half, I didn’t really embrace it. A month later, when I started my first real training plan, I was finally ready to say that.

The danger, in not saying what you are, is that you don’t heed the warnings that come with your ‘title.’ I didn’t listen to some very important warnings for runners, because I didn’t consider myself one. Much less an athlete. The real runners, the real athletes, are my buddies on Daily Mile and Twitter who are having 50-mile weeks, right? WRONG. All the warnings about rest, nutrition, and over-use applied to me. And I ignored them. I don’t know when one should start considering oneself those things, but I should have a long time ago.

My particular regret is that I didn’t follow the 10% rule—to not up your mileage by more than 10% per week. There was a time, two to three weeks prior to Nashville, where my kids stopped napping and it became a lot easier to get to the gym earlier in the afternoon. With that extra time, I could hop on the treadmill for a couple of extra miles or plan a 3-miler with a friend. Those few, easy miles bumped me up from about 22 miles/week to more than 30. WAY more than the 10% rule. But it felt easy… and I’d been running so long… and I wasn’t a real athlete, so what did it matter?

It mattered a lot, as I’m certain that this is why I have a very classic overuse injury. I’m just lucky it wasn’t worse.

The lesson, for me, is: listen to the ones who have gone before you, to the experts. They know a little something. Just because you CAN doesn’t mean you should. And all of that.

I have some very real Running Resolutions that I need to make, and it wasn’t my idea to start them on National Running Day, but I’ll roll with it. Here’s to happier, healthier running (starting next week, when I know these shin splints are under control).

More lessons to come...

Lindsay

Cheese-a-rific: The Wisconsin Marathon Half

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Fri, 13 May 2011 17:44:00 +0000

Back in December, when I was planning my race calendar for the year, I was very torn when I saw the dates of the Country Music Half Marathon and the Wisconsin Marathon. Both fit my two main criteria: not a Sunday race, and near people who can watch my kiddos while I run. But, so close together... I wasn't sure if it was wise to do back-to-back races. But, because I like a challenge, and because Nashville is 1/3 of the way to Chicago (so it would make a certain amount of sense to go straight from there to see my parents), I decided to go for it anyway. I figured it was a great opportunity to spend the week between with my family and friends in the Upper Midwest.

And then the best-laid plans, well, you know.

About two months before Wisconsin--and about two months AFTER I registered for the race--my dad (who, along with my mom, would be watching the kids for me) told me that he had to speak in California in the week I was supposed to be there. So my beautiful plan crumbled. I wasn't sure what to do. Forget about Wisconsin and just eat the race fee? Take the kids up and see my friends but not my parents? Buy a plane ticket and have a little run-cation?

In the end, run-cation won out. I left Atlanta Friday afternoon, happily carb-loading at the Hartsfield-Jackson Smoothie King, and flew into Milwaukee. The plan: stay with friends in Racine, run the race Saturday in Kenosha, and still have enough energy to play afterward.

Who wouldn't want to run for a medal shaped like cheese? Who, I say?

First, I'll talk about my recovery from Nashville. I slept a lot the week in between. I did go to my Body Pump and core classes on Monday, as per usual. But I was already a little freaked out over my right knee, which was not only achy from the hills, but making a strange noise when I went up stairs. Weird. So I went easy on squats and lunges, and talked to my wonderful instructor Lisa (who is a runner and triathlete and trainer). Here's what she said: "Don't have any expecations in Wisconsin." That was sobering for me to hear. I have expectations for EVERYTHING. But she was serious. She reiterated to me the importance of doing NOTHING that week. And I listened. I do not do rest well, but I also didn't want to fly to Wisconsin for nothing but disappointment. I basically spent the week shopping (luckily, not buying much other than a throwaway jacket and gloves for the race, at Goodwill).

The only other thing I did that week was a three-mile shakeout run on Thursday. And really the main point of that was to test out the new hydration belt I got last week. I didn't want to run a race with untried equipment, but I wanted the kind of belt that has more, smaller bottles on it, so that the strain from one larger bottle was not entirely on one spot. When you have the kind of whacked-out, scoliosis-twisted spine I have, little things like that can make a big difference. I felt like it was a go, so into the suitcase it went.

Speaking of suitcases: Flying to races is stressful. I really did not want to check a bag, but had all the usual toiletries to take, plus GU and little peanut butter packets (which I think are technically supposed to go in the pint-sized bag, but which I got through in my purse). After a smooth flight into Milwaukee, it was off to Kenosha to pick up the race packet. I am really, really impressed with the Wisconsin Marathon--super organized, and incredible participant communication through email and their Facebook page. We went to get coffee at a place FREQUENTED BY MARK RUFFALO. I has a little crush on him, but alas, he did not show up to have a latte with me. But I did get a chance to see the downtown area as well as the start and finish line areas.

On the way back to Racine and my friend Judi's house, we drove most of the north side of the course. It was right by the lake and I could tell it was going to be gorgeous. There were also a couple of really adorable, baby hills. One of the reasons I wanted this race was because the flatness seemed like a nice way to reward myself after training in Atlanta and running races on MOUNT Berry and all-hills Nashville. I was thrilled it was proving to be as-advertised.

Dinner that night: roasted chicken, baked potato, and salad. Oh, and cheese curds. 'Cause hey, it's Wisconsin.

RACE DAY:

For some ridiculous reason I was up at 3:30 AM, when my alarm wasn't set until 4:20. I got out of bed around 4:15 and got ready. Judi was up and she prayed with me for the race, and I was truly touched. Hey, how can any day be bad when it starts out like that? The wonderful Angie Herzog picked me up at 4:45. She's a friend of my WI friends, and graciously came to get me and take me back to her house, where a group of nearly 10 women were meeting to go to the race. The ride to the race was dominated by weather talk. The forecast was for rain, but without a specific time attached to it. There was a band to the west, but it was moving so slowly and toward the south, that I started to feel confident we might not get wet. When we got to Kenosha, there was absolutely no wind, and I felt even better. Temp was right at 50 degrees, so it was nearly perfect. Race day attire: capris, tee shirt, DIY arm warmers, gloves. Jacket pitched at start line.

Pre-race activities: portapotty line, find a place to meet, portapotty line again. I was determined not to let happen what had happened in Nashville, so I self-seeded with the 11 min/mile folks.

And off we went. The first two miles we headed south, the lake to the left, houses on the right side. Truly beautiful. I tried to take in the moment, the expanse of the lake, while also managing to look at the road and the other runners enough so as not to log my first running fall. The houses are large and have huge lawns, and every little bit there would be kids and parents out cheering us on. It felt like running through a movie set, actually. A really flat movie set.

Miles 3-4 go back north through downtown, and there was lots of crowd support here. I ditched the arm warmers with a huge throw-like-a-girl action that sent them sailing onto the sidewalk way over the trash can. Sorry for the litter, Kenosha. I saw a sign cheering on the Daily Mile-ers, which was nice to see. I was keeping my pace (9:55) easily, and not rushing, despite the flat course. Mind control. Good mind.

Miles 5-7 found us on the north side of Kenosha, lakeside. Parks on the left, lake on the right. Gloves got pitched neatly into a trash can--while running. Guess my aim had improved. This is where the sweet baby hills were, and on one of these I caught sight of the leaders zooming by us as they headed home. I was struck by how different the body types were of the first five or so male leaders. Some were very lean, but a couple of them were really not. Interesting. Then along come the female leaders, and they are just all these lean sinewy things. Shortly after the leaders, along came Angie, and we waved at each other. She looked great--very strong.

By mile 8 we had made way onto the campus of Carthage College. Not my favorite part of the race, but it was still flat, and I got to see my Twitter buddy and Daily Mile-er Laura Scholz. Laura and I comprised 2/3 of the Georgia contingency in this race. ;)

It was around mile 9 that I realized I was pretty cold. I wanted my arm warmers back. But I still felt good, not overdoing it, and was on pace to beat my Nashville time. Back we went into downtown, across hill number 3 (a short bridge, a mere speed bump really) and back to a lot of crowd support. Nice. Miles 11-13 were along the initial southbound route, with a turnaround to head back to the finish. The run to that turnaround felt really long, finally but there it was, and then it was off to the finish. Rounding the last turn and booking it straight toward the lake, I had a bit of kick left and managed to finish strong.

Final time: 2:10:01
Pace: 9:55
That's 30 minutes faster than my first half-marathon, 53 weeks prior. I WILL TAKE IT. Bonus points for me having enough energy to walk several miles around Milwaukee later that night.

Polka Band The Polkaholics, me, and my cheese medal.

Angie post-race--6th in our age group and a huge PR for her. Thank you Angie for everything, and thank you Becky for getting me in touch with her!

Next up: The Peachtree Road Race, July 4. Not sure what my goals here are, as it is summer in Atlanta. I'm also feeling a twinge of what I think is tendinitis, so getting rid of that is priority 1. Fall race possibilities include Chicago's Monster Dash 1/2, Atlanta's Thanksgiving Day 1/2, and the Rock-N-Roll series' nighttime 1/2 down the Vegas strip in December. We will see.

Oh, and coming soon: My answer to the question, "When will you run a full marathon?"

Me on race night, with The Bronze Fonz, in Milwaukee. Wish I'd brought my cheese medal. It would've looked good on him.

--Lindsay

Running Nashville (again): The 2011 Country Music 1/2 Marathon

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Mon, 02 May 2011 18:35:00 +0000

Saturday marked my return to Nashville--where I ran my first 1/2 marathon last year. I was sorely disappointed with my time last year (2:39:35). Everyone told me to be happy I'd finished, but I wasn't happy and so I just didn't say a whole lot about it. Instead, I promised myself I'd become a better runner. I continued running and weight training and saw the first major gains in Atlanta at the Thanksgiving half (2:19:55). I give the credit there to losing a lot of weight and to BodyPump for toning and strengthening, as I HATE running from June-September in Atlanta and didn't really start training seriously again until October.

Starting in January, I did some speed training and cut nearly 7 more minutes off my time (2:13:05 at Berry College 7 weeks ago). Since then, I've bumped my mileage up significantly (from about 21 miles a week to 27-29). I also recently decided to add another day of speedwork in (fartlek runs mostly, because enjoy them and they keep me from being bored).

Enter Nashville. I have a love-hate relationship with this race. It fits my two big criteria (Saturday race, and near someone who can watch the kiddos). It is also BIG (25,000 runners) and put on by the Rock-n-Roll series. That means there's a lot of money behind it, and a lot of crowd and band support. But it also means a big, crowded expo, a super-early wake up call in order to make the shuttle, lots of traffic, and big waits for packets, shuttles, and bathrooms. I've yet to see the RnR series be particularly good about runner interaction, or even take care of some of the basics like crowd control for shuttles and for parking post-race (I mean really--the finish line is at LP field, which handles crowds ALL THE TIME. Why is it so hard to move people for a race?)

Waiting for the shuttle to the start line. There was pushing and shoving. Not thrilled, and not necessary--the series needs to figure out a plan to move people without chaos.

Plus, Nashville is hilly. Check out this guy's take on the elevation of the course (it's for the full, but you get the idea). Moreover, Nashville can get HOT in late April--especially if you are in a later start wave (which I was last year).

But it still makes sense for me to do this race. I was jump-up-and-down-ing-ly pleased that my sister and brother-in-law decided to join us for this one this year.

Anyway, we made it to the race and even, as you can see, had some fun. My proudest pre-race moment was my split second decision to get us off the interstate way early and take side streets to get to LP field. The interstate was a sea of traffic lights and thanks to my trusty sidekick IPhone, we found a far better way and got there in just a few minutes.

I love where the start line is--right by the Parthenon. That's my with my DIY arm warmers on--my brother-in-law's idea--Men's dress socks with the toe cut off. Thanks to my husband for donating to the Keep Lindsay Warm cause!

Now, to the race. I was in corral 9 this year... a far cry from 27 last year. That meant I got to start more than 30 minutes earlier. And, I had a plan. I was utterly obsessed with doing a negative split for this race. The plan: go out for the first half at 10:05, then kick it up to 9:50-9:55 for the last half.

That's not how it went. And that is where my disappointment with this race comes in.
I think the late addition of the speedwork, without the time to work in some tempo runs, was a mistake of sorts. The first 4 miles, I knew I was going faster-much faster (about 9:30) than I intended. But I could not wrap my head around how to slow down. And I didn't want to, to be honest. I was enjoying how good it felt to be kicking along with the 2:00 pace group just to my left.

I also have to add, I had GI issues on this run for the first time in a while. And to add to it, it was the opposite of the GI issues I normally have. I won't go into detail, but I need to watch the race-week nutrition more closely, especially when there is travel involved.

Miles 4-8 were where I first started to feel the fade. Last year, this part was an out-and-back, which I find to be incredibly energizing. I'm a true extrovert--and get energy from a crowd. This year, they split this between two parallel streets. Without a packed road, I may have had more room to move, but it felt like there was a lack of energy to me.

I read recently that your race-day wall will be the length of your last long training run. My last long run was 10.2 miles. And at 10 miles, I felt pretty much through. I hated the race. I hated the people running the race. I saw the people on a different street who were at about mile 3 and felt nothing but great pity for them. I hated everyone who has ever suggested I do a full marathon because HELLO THAT WOULD MEAN I WOULD STILL HAVE 16 MORE MILES TO GO. That, my friends, would be me hitting the wall.

And my pace just slid from there. I lost all my motivation to keep going, started taking walk breaks... and being pre-disappointed in myself with my time.

Which, in the end, was 2:12:11.

Which is a PR by almost a minute. On a course that was just unforgiving. It is also nearly a full 28 minutes faster than my time at the same race, one year prior.

Other stats:
Overall: 7173 out of 21944
Division: 641 out of 2447
Gender: 3311 out of 13966

I know I should be happy with that--and I am pleased with the overall result. But I'm sorely disappointed in myself for not sticking with my plan--a plan that would almost certainly have helped me reach my goal for this race--2:10. But I'm looking at it this way--now I definitely have some goals, some things to change, and some new challenges to tackle.

Did I mention that I'll be tackling some of them on Saturday? Yes, in 5 days? In Wisconsin? On a flat, fast course? And 50 degree temps? I'm strategizing now, in all the time I'd normally be running, and I'll report back next week. :)

-- Lindsay

Berry College Half-Marathon Race Recap

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Tue, 08 Mar 2011 03:06:00 +0000

Saturday I had the opportunity to go to my sweet, beloved, Berry College and run my third half-marathon. I initially signed up for the race because it was cheap, local-ish, and I had friends who were interested in running in either the 5k, 10k, and 1/2. What never really entered my mind is how amazing it would be to run the gorgeous landscape of a campus I have been in love with since I first stepped foot on it in 1995.

The forecast 10 days out called for rain. How unthrilling. I kept willing it to change, but the only thing that changed was the amount of rain Rome would get that day (at one point 2 inches were forecast) and how bad any associated storms might be.

So, race day dawned with a drizzle. I decided to try a technique I had toyed with last year in Nashville, when the race had a similar forecast. I wrapped my shoes, up to my ankles, with Glad Press-N-Seal. My nurse mother-in-law had suggested it, as they apparently use it in the rehab center where she worked, to stick to their skin when cleaning up messes (or for some similar use). In Nashville, the rain stopped by start time, so I had never run before with it, but my thought was... even if it only lasts a couple of miles before I shed it, that's a couple of miles more of dry shoes. So here's what I looked like from the calf down:

The Race, Miles 1-4
For race course pictures, click here.
The start was near the Ford complex, an incredibly gorgeous set of buildings that also served as the site of my wedding reception. The first mile took us through the main campus, where I saw the Comm building where I spent a majority of my Berry time, as well as Evans Hall, which has the words "Whether At Work or Play, Always Do Your Best." I must admit, I kicked it up a bit when I saw that.

I started the race in a skirt, a sleeveless tank, a long-sleeve technical shirt and a warm headband. The headband went in the jacket pocket at the 1/2 mile mark. Not long after, we crossed back near where the 5k was about to start and I saw a couple of my Berry friends there. It was nice to get a little cheer from them.

Miles 2-4 were along what is called Stretch Road--just a long stretch of road from main campus to mountain campus. The rain was still coming down. Because of the weather, I had switched from my usual IPhone configuration of music and RunKeeper app to my old Ipod Shuffle and Garmin watch. I haven't used the Garmin in so long that I'd forgotten where things were on the display. I kept looking down and thinking I was doing 8:10-8:30 miles, not unheard of for a good day with lots of adrenaline. Sweet! I was pretty excited until around mile 3, when I realized I was looking at the time and not the pace. Yar! But that stupid mistake actually made me run harder in those first few miles, thinking I was a real hotshot. Heh.

Here's a great thing about Berry: It is truly a magical wonderland where good things happen. Not that it's perfect, but it's a place of generally fine people and so, when the race info said we could drop clothing along the course and they'd get it back to Lost & Found, I knew it was a pretty good gamble to take. At the 4 mile mark, off came my very nice Gap technical, water-repelling jacket.

Miles 5-9

At this point we arrived at Mountain Campus, and that's where it got hilly (thought it's called mountain campus, it's actually a foothill, but comes with it's own steep elevation gains). I quickly came upon Swan Lake (complete with swans), Frost Chapel, and the Elementary School (where my friend Tucker teaches, and the beneficiary for this race). Tucker and his Ukelele Band were on the porch playing for the runners, and the students were cheering us through the race and handing out water. I love Berry.

This part of the race took us on a muddy out-and-back past the old Mill (Georgia's most photographed place, I hear). I actually like a good out-and-back, as long as it's not too long. Seeing the other runners energizes the extrovert in me. It's like, "What's up, faster people?" and then "Why hello, people who may soon pass me!"

Mile 7 brought us to my highlight of the race--running through the Winshape Retreat. In my day, it was known as the dairy-'cause it was a dairy, complete with cows. The cows are gone, but on Saturday the rain had stopped and I got a view of the Appalachian foothills that was much like this one, only more sweeping. It was breathtaking. Have I mentioned I love Berry?

Then a steeeeeeep, knee-killing descent around another pond and another very very rocky out-and-back to Possum Trot. I didn't actually see Possum Trot, and never have (I didn't spend much time on Mountain Campus as a student), but I just looked at the picture in that link and I'll have to go back.

Miles 9-13
This part of the race was a real yawn, to be honest. A really hard yawn. It goes back down stretch road a bit and then runs parallel on a paved trail through a flat field. Yawwwwn. But it's easy running. I ditched my long-sleeve t-shirt at Mile 9 and that little change was good for a pick-me-up (at this point it was about 52 and overcast--really perfect running weather). Also a good pick-me-up was the random dude in the truck blasting Taio Cruz around Mile 10. This was around the time my back started hurting me (did I mention I was in a minor wreck two days pre-race? No? That's because I'd rather forget it). I stopped a couple of times to bend over and stretch, but didn't feel like getting asked by another runner if I was going to puke, as I'm sure that's what it looked like. So I pressed on. I was also starting to realize that I was in danger of not making my time goal, so I kicked it up a bit when I could, as I'd lost time to stretch.

Mile 12 was difficult for me. I was really done, but running harder than I had the whole race. I thought about my friend Cris, who was marathoning for the first time that day in a different race. I thought about going through 28 hours of drug-free labor. I thought about the sign I saw that said "You can either throw in the towel, or use it to wipe the sweat off your face." And most importantly, I just kept running. I think I did manage to make a not-pained face for the last photographer on the route. My number was on my last layer, so any pics of me before mile 9 I'll never get to see. So I tried to make this one count. We'll see when they post pics later.

The last quarter-mile-- uphill to the finish. Yeesh. As I made the final turn I saw my dear friend, running mate, and main motivator Kristiana with her phone out for a picture of me. I whipped off my fuel belt and threw it at her because I just needed to do SOMETHING to get through those last yards. And it did. I was so wiped at the finish that I almost didn't grab my medal, and then I nearly puked. I still haven't decided if that would make me awesome (I ran till I puked! Just like the stories I used to hear of the UK players after a session with Pitino!) or not, but I'm glad I didn't.

Bottom line: this was an awesome race, with a beautiful course and a great atmosphere that I'd recommend to anyone. I'm sure the 5k and 10k were lovely, but you really get the Berry beauty and experience doing the half. The Press-N-Seal stayed on the entire race, and my shoes were dry and fine the whole time. I definitely recommend trying it next time you've got rain in your running forecast.
Official time: 2:13:05. I took another 7 minutes off my personal record (that's down 25 minutes from my first half-marathon 10 months ago). To be honest, I'd hoped to cut another two minutes off, but I've been told by some wise people to shove it and be happy. So, there's that.

And, those two minutes better watch out: Nashville is 8 weeks away.

-- Lindsay

It's The Great Pumpkin...Shortage?

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Thu, 30 Sep 2010 21:11:00 +0000

If you know me in real life, you know that no matter what the temperature, once the calendar hits September, I'm in full-on pumpkin mode. I'm generally either holding a Pumpkin Spice Latte in my hand or I'm baking pumpkin bread in my kitchen. I've toyed with making my own PSL, I regularly whip up pumpkin pancakes for breakfast, and I'm about to make a new pumpkin smoothie I found the recipe for in Runner's World.

Things were cruising along great this year... Starbucks released the PSL a few days early (If you want to see how I celebrate that event, you can watch here) and I was ready for more. So I set off to the grocery store to buy a few cans of pumpkin, only to discover there were none in the usual spot, the baking aisle. I checked the canned vegetable and fruit aisle, and found nothing. "Oh," I thought. "Of course, they've moved it into the seasonal items. A little early, but it makes sense." But no. It was all, decked out with, like, chili and cheese dip for football season, or something equally asinine in light of the fact that, clearly, it was pumpkin season. Clearly. I asked the manager, who then delivered the terrible news. A shortage. Of canned pumpkin. Everywhere. Surely not. I went home. I looked online, and to my dismay, what that hateful manager said was true. See? I figured I'd outsmart the universe and get some on Amazon. Denied. Totally out. I did find some organic pumpkin, which I nixed, until I saw that regular cans of Libby's were going for as much as $5 on Ebay. So I bought a case of 12 of the organic for $24.

I put out a call on Facebook. I got reports from Texas, Ohio, Florida... no pumpkin. I even got a few cans donated from friends here in Atlanta, with a promise that they'd get a pumpkin treat in return. My organic pumpkin arrived, but I was ambivalent, having read it has a runnier consistency that makes baking difficult. I found some pumpkin pie mix in the freezer and turned it into a loaf of bread that just felt like a tease, really.

I was bummed. And here's why. My first child was born 5 years ago next week, and becoming a mother really rocked my world. In those first few weeks, when sleep was a memory and chaos was becoming our new reality, our friends and family really came through with us. They came and cooed over the baby, but more importantly, they brought food. David and I ate and ate and ate, and still had enough in the freezer that we didn't get through it all until after Christmas. I was basically consuming love and care in a time when I was trying to figure out how to care and love this little babe who was so new to us, and so unknown. I remember that love--in the form of my mom's sloppy joe casserole, Casey's chicken tetrazzini, Toni's ham and potatoes au gratin, Paula's pecan pie, and Dianne's chicken noodle soup so fondly.

But most of all, I remember Dawn's pumpkin bread. She makes it constantly, year-round, to eat and to give away, but I'd never had it before. I remember one night, the dead of night, perhaps 3 a.m. or so, when I'd just nursed Ada and gotten her to sleep for the 3rd or 4th time that night. I was hungry and I was a little scared, and I wandered into the kitchen. And I remember leaning over the counter and slicing a thick piece of that pumpkin bread and just... relishing it. It was so lush and full of flavor, and it somehow made that little moment perfect. I went back to sleep satisfied, for that instant, that everything would be okay.

Ever since then, me and pumpkin, we tight.

So you'll be glad to know that, about 10 days ago, I started hearing from friends, "I found pumpkin here." And "they had a few cans there." And then one magnificent day, I found 12 cans at Publix. I bought eight--four for me, four for Dawn. I left four for some other lucky soul. You'll also be glad to know that this past weekend I read that yes, the pumpkin shortage is over.

Still, every time I'm back at Publix, I check the shelf, and, finding a few cans of pumpkin, I slide one or two into my cart, just because I want to be sure I can re-live that perfect moment again. Just in case.

My current stash of pumpkin... minus the 12 cans of organic that I got off Amazon.com.

Lindsay's Modified Version of Dawn's Pumpkin Bread
I cut the sugar down from 3C to 2C. I tried cutting it more, but it's not as good. If you want to be truly decadent, use three cups. And I add a little lemon extract to all pumpkin baked goods; it makes it taste light and fresh.

Whisk together:

2 C sugar
3 1/2 C all-purpose flour
2 t. baking soda
1 1/2 t. salt
1 t. cinnamon
1 t. nutmeg (I grate mine fresh)
1/4 t. ground ginger
1/4 t. ground cloves

Mix the above dry ingredients and make a well, then add:

1 C vegetable or canola oil
4 eggs
2/3 C water
1 15 oz. can pumpkin
1 t lemon extract

Mix well and pour into two greased and floured loaf pans.
Bake at 350 for 70 -75 minutes.

--Lindsay

Pink Flower Party

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Tue, 28 Sep 2010 19:32:00 +0000

My sweet baby Roxy turns three tomorrow. We celebrated Saturday with her Pink Flower Party. I had a ton of fun taking her theme-of-choice and turning it into a party. She invited just a few little kids--the majority of her guest list was middle- and high-school girls and adults. Roxy knows what she wants, and I appreciate that about her. Here are a few pictures of the party.

Flower Pot Cake with Pink Blooms. Cake and frosting are the Magnolia Bakery Recipe. (Thanks to my friend Sharon, a custom cake baker, for support and inspiration to do this cake.)

The setup.

In lieu of a craft (no attention span for that yet), we planted pink tulip bulbs and sent them home to go in the ground there.

She liked having a special chair just for her, and posed for a portrait.

Then she got a little goofy. My Roxy.

Big sister Ada knew just what to do...

Pink Flower Pinata.

Expert candle blower.

Opening presents (including those pink boots from our dear friend Dr. Caroline. She made Roxy feel super-stylish).

Happy birthday my sweet R.
--Mama

Simply Beautiful

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Tue, 20 Jul 2010 01:39:00 +0000

Is there a more beautiful color combination than that found inside a ripe summer peach? I'm thrilled at the simple gifts of beauty God gives us, if only we take time to notice them.

-- Lindsay
Posted From My iPhone

I came. I saw. I ran.

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Tue, 27 Apr 2010 20:55:00 +0000

As you may or may not know (since I haven't updated this here blog in four months), I ran a half-marathon this past Saturday. Perhaps I can blame Training for Months in Order to Run 13 Miles without Dying on the lack of blog communication? Or perhaps not.

I'll start with the backstory... About a year ago I actually wrote a Facebook note in which I said I was a very happy 5k (3.1 mile) runner and that I never wanted to be more than that. So what changed? I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I think at some point I realized I enjoyed running enough to want to do it in some form the rest of my life, and so I started exploring and hearing about other kinds of races. The half-marathon seemed like a challenge, but also something I could do. When my friend Kristiana said she planned to do the Country Music Marathon in Nashville, I rather grudgingly agreed to train with her. That was followed by months of more short runs, my first long runs, and my cross training salvation, a weight-lifting class called BodyPump to which I may or may not be addicted. Yesssssssss...

Anyway, last Wednesday night I traveled to Nashville with Kristiana and the girls. David and our friend Daniel would follow Thursday night. Rain was in the forecast for Saturday and I was tired. I was not pleased with the way my week was shaping up--the girls got sick the week prior with some ridiculous, hacking-cough-producing virus that I then picked up as well. Tired as all get out and with that nasty cough to boot, I was, frankly, worried about being able to run at all.

Then on Thursday, the weather forecast took a turn for the worse. Thunderstorms turned into straight line winds, hail, and possible tornadoes. My spirit was definitely down. The race organizers were determined to have this race go off, but as a mom, I had to start thinking, "If they don't call it off, and the weather is that bad, at what point do I have to make the call to not run, since I don't want a tornado ripping through downtown and orphaning my children?" Okay, maybe I didn't HAVE to start thinking that way, but I did.

Thursday was still nice--I took a 2-mile spin around my in-laws neighborhood since being sick had kept me out of my running shoes for nearly a week. I was definitely tired. But I rested and then headed to the West End area of Nashville to meet my old friend Michelle, who I've known since camp in middle school. Really cute area, and also the starting line for the race.

Friday: head to race expo, park in very old garage and have David take this pic of me, which I like very much:

pick up number, shop the booths, buy cute shirt that says "My sport is your sport's punishment." Get intimidated by sheer size of crowd running race next day. See this guy, who happened to be carrying his own harmonica at the race expo, cause really, shouldn't we all?

Nap. Carb load at Buca di Beppo:

Roxy loving on Kristiana, David loving on Ada (who was eating straight parmesan cheese... grossssss).

Kristiana and Daniel, me and Ada.

Daniel, Kristiana and I then headed to WalMart to buy ponchos and such for race day. As soon as we left Buca, the weather forecast got so bad, that we just convinced ourselves there would be no race the next day. It was just full-on red through the whole middle part of the country, and headed straight for Nashville right at race time. Sigh.

We went to bed thinking that we'd get up at 4:15 for nothing. But when we woke up, the race was still on and off we went, in the rain. We covered up with ponchos and even used Glad Press-N-Seal to wrap around our ankles and shoes--this worked GREAT, and I would definitely recommend it to anyone devising a race day stay-dry plan.

Much to our delight, by the time we caught the shuttle bus to Centennial Park, the skies had cleared and as the sun rose, the sky looked gorgeous and... blue! We did the porta-potty waiting ritual and then headed to the start. The race started about 15 minutes early to try and give people time to finish before the really bad stuff rolled in, so the start was a bit hairy. We sent Daniel (fast) to the start, then David (slightly less fast), and then Kristiana and I brought up the rear. It's what we do best. Heh heh.

By 7:30 we were racing. I had read a Nashville course description here that had gotten me excited about the course. I've trained hills, of course, at home--intown Atlanta has got some serious hills! This description said, basically, that there were two major hills, and the rest was described as 'rolling.'

Thus, I was mentally unprepared, as that person was clearly ON GLUE when they wrote that description. Like, serious amounts of glue. The Nashville race is hills. Not rolling hills. Hills. Hills and hills and hills. Hills the whole way. By mile 4, I was thinking really ugly thoughts about the writer of that description. In fact, three days later, I'm still thinking really ugly thoughts about them.

BUT. The race re-confirmed what I love about distance running. It's like taking a very intimate tour of a city or area and really getting to know it. My mother's family is from Middle Tennessee and I spent some time in Nashville back when I produced a red-carpet show for the CMA awards in '04. But it was totally different to run past the honky tonks, past the recording studios and past the recording labels where so much country music is made and marketed. There were bands every mile or so, which was very cool too. And the Nashvillians who cheered us on --thank you! You definitely helped.

I over-exerted a bit on the out-and-back--the extrovert in me got energized watching all the people going the other way, plus I was hoping to see David, so I was pretty spent by mile 9. There was also all the bobbing and weaving I had to do to get around the yakking women who run/walk or entirely walk the race together, four abreast, apparently so they can just talk the whole time without any regard for those of us who might need to break through. I hear this is a problem no matter what pace group you start with, but I can only imagine it is worse the further back you start, like I did. Someone remind me this when I am complaining about speed training next time. "Lindsay, it will get you in front of the yakkers."

But, onward! It was about this time that the storm clouds rolled in. There was already word that race organizers were diverting marathoners off the course early, and I didn't want to get caught not finishing should they do the same with the half-ers. So on I went. I learned that, as much as I hate my big legs, they come in handy to power up hills. Strong. Even after 11 miles, still strong. And that the Black Eyed Peas can lift you out of any running-induced energy suck.

Heading over the bridge back to LP field and the finish was pretty cool. Not as cool: seeing people collapsed on the side, so close to the finish, but not making it. Also not cool: the 17 turns between mile 12 and the finish--every one, such a tease when you are expecting the finish line and then not seeing it.

And then, there it was. Almost anti-climactic at that point, due to all the turns. But I crossed it. And I got bullhorned with the message that "Severe Weather with Thunder and Lightning is 10 MINUTES AWAY. Get your things and GO HOME."

And I got my medal.

Isn't it pretty?

Then it started raining, hard. I grabbed some food, made for a tent and managed to find Dave. Then I almost fainted. David made me sit on his feet cause I didn't want to sit on the wet ground. Then I stopped caring about the wet ground and just sat on it. (The pic above, I took while sitting on the ground. Which is why you see everyone else's legs.) But I ate and drank and ate and drank and got to feeling better. Then it was gather the friends, get in the car, and marvel at how the Nashville PD had apparently all gone home and left 36,000 runners to sit in their cars and try and get out of LP field with no direction. Apparently there were folks who sat there for 2 hours without moving. Us, we jumped a curb and got outta there. Yeah!

Tired but clean.

So what's my take? Will I do it again?

Yes. Yes I will, Lord willing. I was very disappointed with my time and I'd like to cut my per mile time waaaay down. So I have some speedwork to do. I'm looking at either the Atlanta 1/2 on Thanksgiving or possibly the Phoenix 1/2 in January. Who's in? (Insert cheerleader kick here.)

And now I'd like to give a shoutout to people who inspired me during the race (as in, these people actually crossed my thoughts when I wanted to quit): My sister Lesley, who has done a full marathon before; my wonderful husband David, cause he's... wonderful; Jenny, who had a VBAC baby the day before the race; Rachel, who completed a 4 year nursing program in 20 months and graduated the night before the race; Drew, who invented a cool product and has been doggedly marketing the thing with admirable dedication; Kristiana, who has lost 85 pounds and went after this 1/2 marathon like it was her job. So thanks to you! Y'all made my feet keep going! Oh, and shout out to the Black Eyed Peas--pretty sure they deserve some credit too. Infectious dance pop that keeps even the most tired runner racing.

And a special special thanks to my mother-in-law for taking care of us before and after the race, and for watching the girls while we actually ran the race, too.

Gotta run! (Get it? Wow, I'm funny)

Lindsay

Chocolate Monsters

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Thu, 24 Dec 2009 12:26:00 +0000

Back from Chicago, yesterday was a semi-mad rush to get back to normal AND to get ready to welcome my in-laws--and Santa--for Christmas. That included a trip to Dr. Caroline, my friend and chiropractor. Her practice is a busy one, but we landed during a relatively quiet time. She and I wanted to chat so we made the oh-so-responsible decision to give Ada and Roxy the office bowl of chocolate. Yeah, the entire bowl. They dug in while we talked. Well, Roxy did. Ada decided she wanted to save her pieces until after her adjustment and at one point expressed some concern about the amount of cocoa-based goodness being imbibed by her sister. Dr. Caroline grabbed her video camera and interviewed Ada about what was going on.

Here it is. Please note Ada's fabulous hand gestures (Holla! Future speech and debate champion!), her unbuttoned jeans (Dr. Caroline calls them her skinny jeans) and Roxy's declaration of joy at at the end.
"

I hope everyone's stockings are filled with chocolate and other goodies tomorrow!
Lindsay

My Heart's in the Heartland (for now)

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 16:45:00 +0000

Last Thursday we started our Christmas vacation early in the morning at Hartsfield-Jackson, hopping a flight to Chicago to visit my parents. I have to say that flying with these kids has gotten infinitely easier since I flew solo with them last April. Thanks, Ada and Roxy, for being good travelers. You make my wanderlust a bit easier to handle.

A DVD player and a Biscoff for Ada

Sesame Street Podcasts and a Biscoff for Roxy=

Relative peace and quiet for the 2 hour flight.

When we arrived, there was lots of rejoicing by the kids as they happily reunited with their Nana and Papa. At this point in the game, they practically push me away and focus on the grandparents and the copius amounts of candy, presents and TV-watching that comes with that territory.

Which is fine with me. That's why they call it vacation, right?

We settled in Thursday, with small excitments for me, like: noting how flat the land is here, and how good it would be for long runs if it weren't for all the snow on the ground... being randomly accosted by fresh faced midwestern strangers telling me "Merry Christmas" (seriously, I thought southerners were friendly but they ain't got nothing on these suburban Chicagoans) and viewing the fabulously unpretentious light displays.

Then on Friday we went for it, taking the kids into Chicago to see the Museum of Science and Industry. I hadn't been there since I was in college, when the speech team happily footed the bill to send me traipsing around the globe to speak competitively. Speech tournaments always allowed us a bit of time to see the places we were visiting and I have happy memories of hanging out with a number of fun people from both my school and others while we were here last time.

And now I have new memories that I made with small people Ada and Roxy. We saw hatching chickens and the old-timey movie theater, ate ice cream and spun in the atrium where Christmas trees from around the world were on display. It felt like magic.

Then for me, it was off to be social. I have a couple of friends from college who live in the area. I added a state to my list of places I've been by heading to Wisconsin to see my friend Drew. He likes his Blackberry.

It snowed a bit that night, so there was fun to be had for the girls the next day. They got their first pairs of snow boots and out we went.

I have to say, it's kinda hard to sled in the midwest. The general lack of hills in the backyard where we are staying meant Dave did a lot of pushing the girls around on this. Well, Ada, anyway. She was much more into the snow play than her sister.

"You want me to go out in this cold and do WHAT?"

Roxy, being a bigger fan of indoor play, wears her funny glasses. Or, as she says, "funty glasses." Funty indeed.

Sunday brought church and a movie date with David. (I got to see two while we were here--"Everybody's Fine" with me mum. Lots of weeping in that one. Hello, puffy eyes. Also saw "Up in the Air" with David. I loved it--it's simply and beautifully shot and I thought the story was complex and real. I am a Clooney fan, and I also like Anna Kendrick, who is about the only Twilighters who can act. Hilarious.)

Sunday night my friend Chris, his wife and their two adorable daughters came to church with us and then came over for dinner. Roxy took to Chris and deemed him "my friend." So we had to get a shot of the lovebirds.

My girls and Chris' older daughter Sophia got along great and posed so sweetly for a snapshot. (Chris' other daughter is just 4 months old, so she didn't pose for the picture. Next time, Bella, next time.)

What else? Ah yes, a Christmasy Chicago date with David that included a chat with the lovely volunteer Milt Levin about Sue the TRex at Field Museum, shopping at Macy's, and a visit to the German wonderland that is ChristKindl Mart. Ask me if I took pictures. NO I didn't. I was on a date, thankyouverymuch.

Oh my Chicago, I do love you. Even if you are so cold you make my face hurt. You are magic and you make my heart swell. I feel both grand and insignificant when I visit you. I leave a little piece of my heart here until I come back... preferably in the spring... when I regain feeling in my limbs.

xoxo
Lindsay

Dear Santa, Love Ada

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 13:13:00 +0000

Ada practices her cookie decorating skills for Santa.

Ada made her Christmas list the other day, dictating it to my sister, who wrote it down word for word. I thought it was so cute and wanted to share.

Dear Santa,
I have been a good girl this year. I help my mommy, my daddy and my sister all the time.
Please bring me:
1. A big mushroom house. With Dollies.

The aforementioned mushroom house. Santa has informed that he will not be delivering on this one--the square footage of the thing is way to big for Ada's playroom. I'm trying to prep her for the idea that Santa may just bring a 'playhouse.' Found a much more small-house-friendly one at Target. Sorry, A.

2. A dolly just like Roxy's.
3. Clothes and a diaper for the dolly.
4. More clothes for Sandy (that would be an existing dolly-lm)
5. Another big stroller for babies, with a hood on it.
6. My own picture frame. That is real.
7. New books, including a flower book.
8. My own water cup for the baby like Roxy's. With milk in it.
9. My own toothpaste and toothbrush for my baby.
10. My own Diet Coke, but I don't want it to be real. But I want it to be good.

I promise to leave cookies and milk for you.
Love, Ada

So, um, dollies. And Diet Coke. I wish my list were so simple.
Lindsay

Me and Ree, Best Friends Forever

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 11:36:00 +0000

It all started with the cinnamon rolls. These cinnamon rolls. Last year, about this time, my friend Blair and I were discussing our Christmas menus. She mentioned she might make these apparently bodacious cinnamon rolls. As soon as I saw that picture, I was hooked. I had to have those cinnamon rolls.

Things have come between me and those cinnamon rolls. Things like the intimidation factor of making 50 cinnamon rolls at once. Things like a Christmas menu that was already set last year--one that did not include cinnamon rolls. Things like my fear of all those cinnamon accompanying me and my thighs on the rest of my journey through life.

But as I went back to visit those rolls on The Pioneer Woman's website I got more and more into the entire site. If you haven't already been exposed to her soul-pleasing recipes, love of family and friends, or tale of how she went from big-city girl to ranch wife, do yourself a favor and check out her website. And definitely buy her book. She's so funny and clearly knows her way around a kitchen. But the thing I love the most about her is the priority she places on her husband, her children and her friends. Her cooking is one way she strengthens those relationships, and I think anyone can relate to that.

She was in Atlanta last night to sign the book and oh what fun we had at the signing. My dear, dear friend Kristiana got there at 4:30 to get us wristbands for the event. That was three hours before it was supposed to start. She was #200 in line. Bless you, Kristiana. I couldn't get there until nearly 7:00. Kristiana, Blair, our friend Hannah and I all stood in line with a lot of women. I mean A LOT of women. And the occasional baby. And the even more occasional man. Some had come from as far away as Kentucky. (Go Wildcats!)

Anyway, Ree (her real name) was so lovely and, I'm sure, so very tired of people fawning over her (or not). But when we got to the front of the line to have our books signed and pictures taken, she was so very sweet. I brought her a loaf of pumpkin bread, cause I can only imagine how a slice of something comfy in your mouth would feel after lots of travel and meeting people you don't know. And I mumbled something about making her pico de gallo earlier in the day and then--and this came out of nowhere--I thanked her for making people's lives a little brighter. Which was kind of really dorky. But I think she does. Just knowing that there is someone out there who values many of the same things I do, who loves her husband unfailingly, who delights in the quirks of her children, and who likes nothing more than abundant, good food on a table surrounded by great friends--well, it certainly brightens my world a bit.

Me and PW. Can you feel the love tonight?

For those of you who follow her blog, her sister Betsy and friend Hyacinth were there too and I got them to sign my book on their recipe pages. Betsy liked my necklace, and, being a sucker for a compliment, I liked Betsy. I also imagined a book tour of my own (not that I have such aspirations, so maybe just some crazy road trip) with my sister and my best friend. I can see it now--Lesley would have every good bed mapped out for the entire tour, while Amanda's nose for good vintage shopping would be sniffing out the cutest cake plates and milk glass within a 20 mile radius. And oh the food. We would come rolling home at the end of the trip so big. And so, so happy. And with so much kitsch.

I'll say it again, Pioneer Woman... thanks for being a bright spot! And just so you know... I have a firm date with your cinnamon rolls, for next week. I'll let you know how it goes.
Lindsay

Arugula. Aruuuuuuugula.

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 19:49:00 +0000

So, if you've run into me in the last week or so, you've probably heard me crowing over my new favorite sustenance. But now that I think about it, you probably haven't run into me in the last week, as some ridiculous cold has moved in and refused to leave. Therefore, I take to the interwebs to tell you about it.

For most of the summer, I lived on a salad of baby field greens, blackberries, strawberries, goat cheese and a thick gooey balsamic vinaigrette. I nearly cried when I bought the last of the truly in-season berries. But little did I know that I would soon be experiencing winter salad splendor.

It all started with a visit to Souper Jenny. Oh, Souper Jenny. It's where any self-respecting soup-loving Atlantan heads for incredible soup, plus creative sandwiches and salads. It's also where my friend Marcie works. Hi Marcie! Anyway, one day last month, I found myself enjoying an arugula, red pear and brie sandwich on their patio. I could not stop thinking about that sandwich. But I had no success recreating it at home. Instead, it began to take on another life in my head and ultimately, in my salad bowl.

So here it is, my winter salad. Try it. You'll like it.

Start with some arugula,maybe 2-3 cups. Say it. Arugula. Aruuuuuugula. Fun, huh? Just a little side entertainment while you make the salad. Arugula.Add some sliced brie, maybe an ounce, maybe a little more. I like brie, so I lean toward the little more. I add this first, cause I like it to soften just a bit before I eat it.

Add half to three-quarters of a just-ripened red pear, sliced, and about 2 T of pecans. Finish with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and a drizzle of olive oil, plus a little sea salt--not much, the brie and pecans already added some good saltiness of their own.

Enjoy solo, with some soup or just a slice of hearty bread.

Then say it again... Aruuuuuugula.
Lindsay

Escape

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Mon, 16 Nov 2009 13:35:00 +0000

Last week I was able to escape with the girls for a couple of days to my friends Amy and Vinnie's house. I have known them since long, long before any of us were married, and the home they've built together is truly one of my favorite places on the planet. They are now the proud parents of three girls, plus they are caretakers to their house and a small piece of property on which they have been known to raise chickens, rabbits, bees and as many vegetables as they can. Here's what our little retreat looked like.

This is one of my favorite doors. Amy and Vinnie used to have two wonderful dogs, and I miss their noses being pressed up against the glass:
Some of Amy's front porch decorations. Eat your heart out, Martha Stewart.

We roasted smarshmallows, as Ada calls them:

One of Amy and Vinnie's girls.
Chicken V. Roxy.

I love their breakfast table. The girls love hamming for my camera. It works out.
Baby Claire. We decided she and Roxy are kindred spirits. They look alike, but they are also very similar in temperament and, for lack of a better word, spirit. Even one of the older girls asked why Roxy looks like an older version of Claire.
Dress Up. And Playing.
Okay kids! Smile!

Thank you thank you thank you Amy and Vinnie for all the delicious meals and good talks and years of friendship! It was JUST what I needed!
Lindsay

Halloween Recap

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 20:03:00 +0000

I have been busy, busy, busy with family sessions and traveling and such (more on those later), but wanted to quickly post a few pictures from our Halloween marauding. This Halloween was actually the first that David has been able to spend with us. November sweeps (an all-hands-on-deck situation in TVLand) always starts the last week in October, and since he doesn't get home until 7... it's been no dice the last three years. This year, since it was on Saturday, and with a lot of events the weekend before, we were able to make up for any fun he may have missed in the past. Here's what we did:

First up, a trip to Zoo Atlanta for Boo at the Zoo. Both girls were butterflies. Roxy's sheep costume had not yet been completed by her custom seamstresses (that would be my sister and I), so she had to make do as a butterfly. Since I was too lazy to give them antennae or anything, everyone thought they were fairies. They got candy, so they didn't care what people thought they were.
Doesn't Roxy look like a big girl here?
Carousel happiness:
ANGELIC carousel happiness:
Train happiness:

Oooooooo scary!

Now, for the main event. Roxy's seamstresses worked for a good long while to sheep-ify her, only to have her repeatedly refuse to wear it. Only when we agreed to leave the bottom unfastened and told her she had to wear it to get candy (not really true; who's going to refuse candy to a two-year-old, even if she is only wearing a black leotard and sheep ears?) did she consent to putting it on. And isn't she a dear in it? Baaaaaaa...

Ada as a butterfly. She did have antennae when we left our house, but somewhere between the trip to our friends' house, playing with all the other goblins, and decorating a Halloween gingerbread house, they got lost. She also had pretty makeup on, but it got all smudged. So this is what she looked like and it suited her just fine:

Our motley crew of trick-or-treaters:

All in all, a smashing success. Thank you to Lesley for her mad sheep costume skills!
Lindsay

Pumpkin Pancakes: The Recipe

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 13:06:00 +0000

This morning we started to go out to our fave breakfast place, RiseNDine, but the cold chill outside and some last-minute work got the best of us and we stayed in. I fried up some bacon and made up a new pumpkin pancake recipe. It turned out so good I had to share. As you can see by the serving plate below, it was quite popular here. About 2.3 seconds after I took this picture, that plate was empty. Recipe below.

Tastes Like Fall Pancakes

Mix Dry Ingredients in a large bowl:
1 1/2 C all-purpose flour (if you want do do 1/2 WW flour, that's fine)
3 T Brown Sugar
1 1/2 t baking powder
1 t salt
1/2 t baking soda
1 t cinnamon
1 t nutmeg
1/4 t cloves
1/4 t ginger

In a separate bowl, mix wet ingredients:
1 1/2 C buttermilk
1 C pumpkin
3 T unsalted butter, melted, or 3 T Canola oil
2 large eggs
1/2 t lemon extract

Pour wet ingredients over dry ingredients and mix just until moistened. Spoon 1/4 C spoonfuls onto hot griddle, turn when top is bubbly.

Serve with butter and heated pure maple syrup. A little bacon and some coffee won't hurt anyone's feelings either.

-- Lindsay

The Brain Cells are Dropping Like Flies

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Sat, 17 Oct 2009 02:11:00 +0000

My kids brain cells were dropping like flies last night. Took them to Disney on Ice last night and brought along the Flip. Note the dazed look on their faces. The sheen of popcorn butter on their cheeks. And their ability to both hyperfocus while zoning out. Creepy.

Here, Roxy is fascinated with the flaming luau scene. Then her thoughts turn to water.

Then, Ada sees Tinkerbell, then gets perplexed at...something. It's hard to tell when there are 25 costumed skaters on the ice. Maybe that's why she's disturbed.

Anyway, we survived the trip inside the bowels of the Disney marketing machine without giving The Mouse one cent. Not even for the tickets. What it cost my children in dead brain cells... well, who knows. At least they had fun!

Lindsay

SATURDAY SESSIONS NOW AVAILABLE--The a-MAZE-ing SweetSnaps Portrait Event

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 17:57:00 +0000

Jessica and I are psyched that we have worked with Bucks to secure sessions for SweetSnaps customers on a SATURDAY!!! We had tons of people interested in out event, but wanted the whole family to be able to make it up. So. We will be there next Saturday, October 24th. Join us! And tell your friends!
Lindsay

MORE INFO HERE!

The Butterfly (Party) Effect

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 17:23:00 +0000

Saturday was probably one of the most exciting days of Ada's life, ifidosaysomyself. I am seeing more and more that four is just a wonderful age... out of the cranky uncertainty of toddlerhood, but still young enough to think life is magical. We celebrated her fourth birthday with her requested butterfly party. I baked the magnolia cake as usual and decorated it with butterflies. Made a butterfly pinata. Add Chick-fil-a nuggets and kids and poof! instant party. It was awfully soggy that morning, so we stuffed 23 people into our tee-niny house. The more, the merrier, say I.

Here's what it looked like.

Flutterby Cake!

Butterfly Girl

Blowing out her candles. Note determined Allie in the background, wondering when she'll get her slice. "Hurry it up, already, Ada!"

Yes, I have a BlowPop in my hand...

But I just can't resist...

delicious butter & sugar concoctions.... nom nom nom... (note Ada's hand in the background,not able to resist, either).

Allie takes a swing at the butterfly pinata. And yes, dirty minds, I know what the pinata looks like. Give a girl a break, would you? There's only so much I can do when I forget to start working on it till 36 hours before the party.

David gives Roxy a lesson in pinata-bashing.

Manning is a ham.

Roxy contemplates a chip.

Happy birthday to my Ada! Here's to keeping the magic in your childhood for as long as possible!
Lindsay

The Sweetest Thing

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 14:09:00 +0000

I like to think I'm not a particularly materialistic person. I love beautiful things, it's true. I like to hold them, feel them, even own them. But I'm pretty okay with letting them go, too. I have two kids. Dishes get broken. Sweaters get pulled. Major appliances get crayon-ed upon. I've learned to grieve it for a reasonable amount of time, and let it go.

But Friday night my sweet husband bestowed upon my a thing of beauty that I adore. I can't remember the last time I got something new, and wanted to wear it to bed, or at the very least stow it under my pillow so it was nearby.

See, it turns out, my husband was very, very busy in the weeks leading up to my birthday. He knew I've had my eyes set on an Elva Fields necklace for a long, long time now. I just couldn't bear to treat myself to one. Well, that, and it seems like no matter how often I stalk the website, the necklaces that catch my eye are always sold out. I feared I was destined to never belong to the club. The Elva club. Okay, there's no Elva club. I made that up. But you get the point.

Anyway, David, though I never subjected him to my Elva-stalking, knew I was falling hard for designer & owner Emily Maynard's work. See, I've known Emily since we were kids. I used to drive her to school sometimes. I even profiled her on the SweetSnaps blog. David broke into my Facebook account to get her email, then asked her to do something huge.

She designed a necklace for me. It's true. I'm wearing it right now. It's called "Sweet Thing." She worked with David, sent him some ideas. He conspired with my sister Lesley and my like-a-sister friend Amanda to find the perfect one. He's showed me the other ideas. But the one that Emily, from the start, thought would be the right fit for my li'l neck, is the one that they agreed upon. She finished it, wrapped it in the loveliest of boxes, and mailed it to me in time for my birthday date with David.

I don't know if I've ever felt so special.

And so please, if ever there's a fire in my house, and all the people are out safely, and you can save something, grab my Elva, would ya? I want to pass it on to the girls one day. Here's what it looks like, so you'll know (this was prior to her finishing it with the clasp and all, but it's pretty much what I'm sporting now):

Thank you thank you David for doing something so special for me.

And Emily, thank you so much for working with David. It is truly one of the best gifts I've ever received. I will pass it on to my girls one day and it means so much that an old friend is responsible for it.

Lindsay

Birthday Eve

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 11:09:00 +0000

Okay, so it was really like, Birthday Eve-Eve-Eve. But whatever. My parents were in town, and that's when we could get away.

Friday night, David took me to Dogwood for my birthday date. Dogwood is a modern southern restaurant in Midtown Atlanta, right near the architecture and engineering firm where I worked when we first moved here--the same firm that hired me on my birthday, 9 years ago tomorrow.

Did you know that? I worked for an A&E firm called Rosser from 2000 to 2002. CNN hired David to work there, and while I loved my reporting gig at WYMT-TV, I couldn't really argue with CNN. We were engaged and I figured it would help to live in the same state if we wanted to get married. So I moved down here with no real job prospects, and after two weeks waiting tables at Olive Garden, I was hired as an administrative/marketing assistant at Rosser. Emphasis on the administrative part.

It was such an exciting time! I moved into the townhome David and I would live in together after the wedding. It was in Avondale Estates, and I took Marta in to work every day. I felt so urban and loved reading my book and smirking smugly as we passed over the sea of rage known as the downtown connector.

Rosser is located in an extremely nondescript building on West Peachtree Street, but it always makes me happy to remember that time in my life. So many new things--new jobs for both of us, new city, new marriage, new future...together. Since we had a bit of time to kill Friday before our reservation, we strolled over to see if all was the same.

On the way over, and as we stood outside and admired how the building hasn't changed in 9 years, we talked about how in love we were back when I worked there. The conversation turned to now, and I told David I am more in love with him now than I was then. We agreed--that there is all the feeling we had back then, plus so much more because of all we've experienced since.

So, when all is said and done, you can have the great food we ate that night. You can even have my gorgeous birthday gift he got me (which, btw, merits it's own seperate blog post, so come back for that). Because right there? In that little walk, and that little talk? That is the best birthday gift I could ever, ever have asked for.

David. Making My Life Better Since 1998.

Happily looking forward to my real birthday...and lots of happy days beyond, making David happy right back,
Lindsay

Ada: Then and Now

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 19:58:00 +0000

Four years ago today I was blessed with a little bundle called Ada. I realize I have never properly recorded her birth story, so why not do it now, on the interwebs, for all to see?

I was so over being pregnant by 37 weeks. I was ready for a baby! Or, at least, I thought I was ready. David and I started going on our "Last Dates" before the baby at this point. Because Ada was born 8 days past her due date, we went on about 20 of these last dates. But they were great--fried chicken at Watershed, countless bad movies, Starbucks whenever we wanted... we had a blast.

Three days past her due date, on a Monday, I went to the doctor. Wonderful midwife Wendy confirmed what I feared... that this baby was not coming any time soon. I was crushed and couldn't bear to go to work that day. I called in, dropped David off, and immediately got on the phone with my sister. She had her suitcase all packed for when this stinker finally decided to show, so she called her work, told them she was leaving to be with me, and headed for Atlanta. That, too, was such a blessing. She stayed with me for three days, and we shopped, slept, played and hung out. We had new windows put in the house (want to scare a workman? tell him your baby was due 5 days ago. they were very, very quiet putting those windows in).

She left on Thursday, and of course about 12 hours later, about 1:30 in the morning, I woke up and thought "Huh. That's a different feeling." I rested as much as I could but of course I was excited. About 3:30, I nudged David and I said, "No need to get up, but just lettin' you know we might be sitting on go." By 8 I was more certain, and called the midwives to tell them I was not coming in that morning to discuss induction (which I had no intention of letting happen anyway). They said to come in that afternoon, as it was Friday and they wanted to know what was going on. I agreed and we went about our day. Called in to work and started building some of our furniture we'd recently gotten from IKEA (we had moved into our house just two months earlier). This would be nesting.

I wanted to walk to make sure this baby would come out. So we headed to the mall. I walked and contracted, walked and contracted. David got some new jeans. I know, how random. We got lunch from Chick Fil A and went home to eat and watch a movie. It was during that movie that I started to really feel like this was going to happen. Read as: It. Hurt. I hated that movie. It was some movie about a dog, and Dave Matthews did the music for it. It was awful and even more awful in my uncomfortable state.

Around 3:30 we headed to the midwives. We live in Decatur and the midwives practice at Piedmont Hospital. Kids, North Druid Hills Road is an old thoroughfare with lots of bumps. LOTS of bumps. I pray no one in labor ever has to drive it. When we got there they said yes it's labor but you're not far along. You can go into the hospital now or go home. I'm sure we'd have made our Bradley instructor proud and said "We'll head home."

Picture this: Friday. Atlanta. Rush hour. RAIN. I've never had a worse ride, anywhere. Again with the bumpy road. And oh, the traffic. The miserable, miserable traffic. I laid the seat back and I had a pillow. I REALLY pray no one in labor ever has to drive North Druid Hills road in Friday afternoon traffic in the rain.

Home again. At this point it was tough to get from the car to the house. We went in and I got in the bathtub. Water=laboring woman's best friend. Really. They don't call it nature's epidural for nothing. We lit candles and stuff cause I thought that's what you're supposed to do, but it didn't do much for it. I'm actually a terrible candidate for natural childbirth as I don't so much like to give up control, but I was determined.

Things moved along, but I really did not want to be back on that road again when I was in transition or, worse, wanting to push, so we went to the hospital around 11. And I made David take the interstate. That was a MUCH smoother ride, thankyouverymuch. We got there, got into the room, and headed again for the bathtub. Then we walked. Then I laid around (precisely what you're not supposed to do, but they put me on a non-mobile fetal monitor, against my wishes. I was too in the throes of things to say anything. Stupid medical model for childbirth).

The midwife (my least favorite in appointments, her attitude was very much like "Natural childbirth, yeah good luck with that." Turned out to be just the person to motivate me in the end.) came in now and then but mostly left us to our own devices. At one point, I think directly after I growled at David (Me: You can't make me do thiiiiiiiiis. David: (Chuckle) I'm not making you do anything.) I did ask her what my options were for pain medication. She looked me square in the eye and said "You're doing really good." That was all I needed. Soon after I was in transition and soon after that I was ready to push this baby out. 20 minutes later I was holding this tiny, tender chunk of love. 5 AM. A Saturday. October 8th. A girl.

We named her Ada.

I didn't take these first pictures, just for the record. Don't remember who did. But I love them. So tiny and sweet.

That was then...

Sleeping. This baby needed more sleep than any other baby I've ever heard of. Fine by me!

She still looks serious like that a lot of the time. Trying to figure it all out.

Meeting the dog. Yawn.

This is now...

Pink cake for birthday breakfast. What more could a 4 year old girl want?

I love you, my Ada bug.

--Lindsay. Also known as Mommy.

DIY Pumpkin Spice Latte. Oh Yeah.

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Sun, 04 Oct 2009 23:09:00 +0000

Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear. I can't decide if this is the best or worst thing to happen to me in recent weeks. As you may know, I have a bit of a love affair with the Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks. "Bit of a love affair" being code for "total and complete and sometimes destructive obsession."

Anyway.

I was browsing Etsy the other day when I came across a woman who makes upcycled coffee sleeves, you know to save the environment and such, one corrugated coffee sleeve at a time. She mentioned having a recipe for a make-at-home Pumpkin Spice Latte. My tastebuds perked up at the thought. About 3 seconds later I was in the kitchen, hard at work on this recipe. (Incidentally, I didn't like the looks of the recipe that the Etsy lady linked to, so I poked around and found an alternate).

First, I made pumpkin pie spice, using this recipe. I ground the nutmeg myself, and probably did a bit too much. I think freshly ground nutmeg is stronger than the alternative, and I was probably a bit too heavy handed with it. It was fine, just a little nutmeg-y.

I could definitely see this recipe actually being a bit spendy for a DIY, mainly because it calls for two full tablespoonfuls of vanilla extract. I think perhaps if you use vanilla flavored coffee it helps and you might be able to cut back a bit.

Anyway, a little milk, sugar, pumpkin, coffee (I did the strong brewed coffee option, using my Senseo), spice and vanilla extract later and I was sipping on sweet goodness, in less time than it would have taken me to drive to Starbucks and have a barista do it. I'm guessing this cost about 1.25 to make. Maybe. And it made waaaaay more than you might think--I'd say I got two grande sized lattes out of this. So at $4 a pop for a grande... I saved about $6.75 today. That's some real money, honey.

Here is my finished product. I didn't do whipped cream on it but I'm open to it. I just didn't have any cream in the house. Little bit more cinnamon or pumpkin pie spice on top and... as Roxy says... Sluuuuuuuurp! Pop!

Starbucks Who?

Here's the recipe. Thank you Kathryn Hill and Apartment Therapy:

Pumpkin Spice Latte
makes 1-2 servings

Ingredients:
2 cups milk
2 tablespoons canned pumpkin OR 1 teaspoon of Torani Pumpkin Spice Syrup (your choice)
2 tablespoons sugar or sugar substitute - you can halve this amount
2 tablespoons vanilla extract
1/2 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
1-2 shots espresso (about 1/4 cup of espresso or 1/2 cup of strong brewed coffee if you don't have an espresso machine.)

Directions:
In a saucepan combine milk, pumpkin and sugar and cook on medium heat, stirring, until steaming. Remove from heat, stir in vanilla and spice, transfer to a blender and process for 15 seconds until foamy. If you don't have a blender, don't worry about it - just whisk the mixture really well with a wire whisk.

Pour into a large mug or two mugs. Add the espresso on top.

Optional: Top with whipped cream and sprinkle pumpkin pie spice, nutmeg, or cinnamon on top.

-- Lindsay
Posted From My iPhone

Caption Contest

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 21:06:00 +0000

My favorites

noreply@blogger.com (Lindsay Mast) — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 03:03:00 +0000

My birthday is in under two weeks! Start planning now, people! You haven't much tiiiiiiiiiiime...

STUFF I LIKE.