Molly's Musings

Hello Again!

2021-09-23T14:52:00.001-04:00

Hello there! I haven't written a blog entry in almost four years; my last post was the text of my graduation speech from nursing school in 2017. Time to bring everyone up to speed.

For the last four years, I have been working full-time plus at Syracuse Home, a five-star longterm care facility in Baldwinsville, NY. I love my job as an LPN, and I feel very fortunate to work there. The juxtaposition of name and location may seem odd, but there is a valid reason for it. In fact, you can read all about the history of Syracuse Home here: mcharrielife.org/about/history.

I am proud to work at a place with roots of helping indigent women and children (before government-funded social safety nets).

I also have started an Etsy shop where I sell items made on the fantastic sewing machine my husband bought me a few years ago for Christmas. My inventory is low, however, as I would rather be outside when the weather is warm than inside sewing. Colder days lie ahead, so it will back to the sewing machine to see what I can whip up. Until then, check out a few of my creations.

I have enjoyed some success with my shop, and am making it a goal for 2022 to be more proactive with it. Visit it at etsy.com/shop/MollysSewingCircle?ref=seller-platform-mcna

I am open to creating items to order as well. Visit my shop and shoot me a message. Or leave a message in the comments section of this blog. Then we can discuss fabric, a design and a price. I'll make it happen.

I continue competing in road races and triathlons, but annus horribilis 2020 placed a hold on competitions that is slowly easing. I look forward to a fuller slate of events in 2022.

That's all for now. Have a wonderful early fall, everyone; see you soon!

Graduation Speech

2017-04-02T07:17:00.002-04:00

On March 30, 2017, I graduated from LPN school at OCM-BOCES in Liverpool, NY. My classmates selected me to give the graduation speech, and I was honored to do so.

I consulted other speeches I found on the Internet for ideas and inspiration. I am posting my speech for the benefit of others who may need some ideas.

What follows is the text of that speech.

Good evening. First I'd like to thank my classmates for choosing me to speak tonight. It's quite an honor.
Today is a momentous day! Almost a year ago, on April 11, more than 25 of us gathered for our first day of LPN school. A number of our classmates dropped out for a variety of reasons. Nineteen of us remain, and here we are!
Other than the first year of motherhood, this has been the most intense 12 months of my life. I felt especially overwhelmed for two reasons—I hadn't been inside a classroom for 30 years and I had no experience in the medical field.
And much like that first year nurturing an infant, nursing school became all consuming. Ms. Badore warned us that life would be put on hold and, except for studying, attending classes and our clinical training, it was; but life always finds a way....
We celebrated births and a marriage. We tended to sick family members. We mourned as loved ones passed away. We missed children's school events, birthdays and other milestones.
Through it all, we learned about each other: why we want to be nurses, our individual plans for the future, who has the cutest dog, cat or guinea pig, that sort of thing.
Graduation marks the end of our time together and the beginning of our nursing careers, after passing our boards, of course. We will be pursuing the most trusted profession in America, as named by Gallup for the 15^th straight year.
Remember that as you struggle with working nights, as you tend to patients who are on palliative care, as you feel exhausted, physically and mentally. Everything you do as a nurse matters, and matters deeply. Be proud of that.
I offer huge thanks to our friends and families for their patience and love during this challenging year. Thank you for giving us the space and quiet we needed to study, for understanding when we couldn't attend a family event, for honoring our desire to become nurses.
I offer huge thanks to our instructors for their wisdom and guidance while we learned about and practiced giving a bed bath, administering medications and reporting unusual vital signs, among the myriad skills a nurse must learn.
We wouldn't be here without any of you.
In closing, I wish all the luck to my classmates as they either look for an LPN job or decide to pursue their RN. I am certain all of you will find success. No matter in which direction your career takes you, you will never stop learning.
Consider these words of Florence Nightingale, the founder of modern nursing: “Let us never consider ourselves finished nurses....we must be learning all of our lives.”
Thank you.

Liverpool Library Holds Trip Down Memory Lane

2015-11-02T08:37:00.000-05:00

Abandoned Oswego Canal, June 22, 1932.

Liverpool will forever be linked with Syracuse, not only as a major suburb, but also as another center of the salt industry and the canals that connected both to the outside world. Around Liverpool, by Dorianne Elitharp Gutierrez and Joyce M. Mills (Arcadia Publishing, Charleston, S.C.; 127 pages/softcover), released in June, aims to bring that history to your coffee table through photos and extended captions.

What's inside the book and even more information that couldn't fit are the subject of Around Liverpool, a presentation Thursday, Nov. 12, 7 p.m. at the Liverpool Public Library, 310 Tulip St. There the co-authors will speak about the village's salty past, as well as other industries, prominent early settlers, how the Onondaga Lake shore has morphed over the years and noteworthy architecture, some of which still stands.

A wagon load of woven willow baskets, Nov. 15, 1926.


Intersection of Old Liverpool Road and Onondaga Lake Parkway.

The two will also take part in the library's Local Author Meet and Greet on Sunday, Nov. 8, from noon to 2 p.m.

Gutierrez has worked as the Liverpool Village Historian since 1991, while Mills retired as a media specialist from the Liverpool Public Library and now volunteers at the Liverpool Village Museum.

Founded in 2014, Arcadia has published more than 12,000 local history books, notable by their format of heavy on the photographs with captions, not chapters. "We had been approached by Arcadia for a couple years and finally found time to do it," says Gutierrez. "It turned out to be labor-intensive, and took us a year to complete, a little less. I tend to be verbal, and Joyce is excellent with images. We are two halves of one brain."

And while Arcadia has strict guidelines, the co-authors strove to improve upon them. "Arcadia sent us some samples," Gutierrez says, "and we looked at others. We thought we could do better. We intended to tell a story, and that is why the organization ended up like it did."

The chapters are organized somewhat chronologically, starting with the burgeoning salt industry and moving next into basketmaking, and on through the sixth and final chapter, the village's growth into a bustling suburb of Syracuse. Liverpool retained its small-village charm, however, and that's evident in the photographs the co-authors selected.

Finalizing the book likely would have taken more time if not for the access the authors had to the Liverpool Public Library's scanned photos; they also used Liverpool Village Museum photos. "We were fortunate in being able to utilize the library's collection that was already scanned," Gutierrez says. "Otherwise, it would have been a different book and it would have taken it a lot longer."

For the library presentation, expect about 45 minutes covering the book but also bonus content of photos and captions that didn't fit into the book. Gutierrez calls it “But Wait, There's More!"

"People can expect the tone of the book," she says, "but with more--more stories, and some other images and pictures of objects. There's something for everyone in this book."

Also at the presentation, Russ Tarby Jr. will sell books for a $20 donation to the Historical Association of Greater Liverpool. The authors will autograph them upon request.

For more information, call the library at 457-0310 or visit www.lpl.org.

Chicago Marathon: Urban Legend

2015-10-19T18:10:00.000-04:00

The Chicago Marathon Oct. 11 delivered the spectacle that it touted. More than 46,000 of us, along 26.2 miles of the Second City, with an estimated 1.7 million spectators lining nearly every inch of Chicago sidewalk and roadway. What a sight they were.

At various points in the race I saw:

A group of men dressed like the Statue of Liberty but in rainbow/pride colors.
Another group of men dressed in all black and cheering us on with red metallic pompons.
A Vegas Elvis impersonator (couldn't run away from him fast enough!).
Many inventive signs urging us on to the finish line.
Two large papier-mache puppets dancing in the city's Mexican neighborhood. I apologize that I don't know what that neighborhood is called, but it was my favorite for the crowd support, the music, the kids handing us food and drink.
Children (not officially volunteers) handing out pretzels, orange slices and small bottles of water.
Thousands of hard-charging, dedicated runners pushing toward the finish line in Grant Park.
More spectators wearing Green Bay Packers garb than Chicago Bears clothing. I could have finished five minutes faster if I hadn't stopped to talk to/high five all of them.

This was my first big-city marathon, and likely my last. Not because I didn't enjoy it, but races of such magnitude bring with them increased expenses, logistical planning and a lot of waiting around to cross the starting line. The expo was huge, too, but the bus ride there was especially enjoyable with a jovial, friendly, inquisitive driver ("So, who's from the farthest away?" Iceland trumped Syracuse, I'm afraid.)

On the other hand, I felt a huge sense of camaraderie running with so many others. I enjoyed the "countdown" from mile 25.2--banners with "1 Mile to go," "800 meters," "400 meters," "200 meters" and then the finish. I enjoyed running through the neighborhoods of Chicago. I liked being asked hours afterwards if I had "run the marathon." Unlike many other finishers, I didn't wear my medal into the restaurant I walked to afterwards--Lou Malnati's--but I wouldn't exactly call my perambulation "walking." My hobbling must have given it away.

And what a revelation Chicago was to me! Big, bustling and full of life, but cleaner and friendlier than New York City. The only vehicles with beeping horns were taxi cabs. I took the Red Line to the race ($3!) and marveled at how clean and urine-free the station was.

My finish time is a disappointment, but, as with all marathons, that time hints at improvements I can make while training for the next one. Still, I finished at approximately 29,000 out of the 46,000, not even close to last.

And now for my minor suggestions for improving the race:


It's "The Bean."

Could you please get the rights to more songs than "Right Now" by Van Halen, which played over and over and over again as we stood in the starting corral? Since we were in there for 30 minutes, that's a lot of time hearing one song.
The medal underwhelmed me. I understand the race organizers wanting to feature a Chicago landmark on the medal. But, not being from Chicago, I had no idea what I was seeing. Was it a big cloud hovering over the runners? Was it the Mothership disgorging aliens into Grant Park? Take a look for yourself (at right).

I am grateful to have had this opportunity, and urge anyone who wants to run a major marathon to do this one. Even though I never saw them, it was cool knowing that big-time runners led the way and finished hours before so many of us. But the spectators treated everyone like he or she was a speedy Kenyan, and at the end of the day, that's this race's biggest charm.

My New Favorite Race

2015-09-24T08:35:00.002-04:00

I don't really know how many races I have run. The number must be between 100 and 200. When I began racing in my 20s there were events out there that no longer exist. I seem to recall a Frog Hollow 5K run along the main street in Fabius way back in the mid-1980s. Then there was the beloved Grunt Run in Geddes, where I always placed well because the prime runners were in New York for the marathon.

Kudos to that woman wearing a tutu.

It's always an adventure to run a race that is brand new, or that isn't new but has been rerouted to a new course. Such was the case with the Rochester Half Marathon, September 20. I have done that half for several years--in fact, my 13.1-mile PR was run there, 1:42:49, and I placed third in my age group in 2007 (that will never happen again, but I don't care). The course was nice, but it was getting old, and the race organizers must have recognized that as well. They mapped out something entirely new and different and challenging for 2015, and I can't wait to go back and run it again.

They promised a few hills, they promised neighborhoods many of us who don't live in Rochester have never even heard of, they promised four bridge crossings spanning the Genesee River (though I counted five), and they promised two waterfalls. After a challenging incline at mile 11.5, we got a slight downhill finish that brought us through the High Falls District and the breweries there, straight across the river and into the chute for the finish. No turns, as in past years, just a mad dash to cross that line.

I loved nearly everything about this race (except that hubby wasn't there at the finish). We traveled with the youngest child and the dog, and logistics weren't in our favor. Next year. . .

Crowd support seemed heartier and more populous than in years past, despite the 7:30 (on the nose) starting time. Rochesterians really came out to support this race, and those runners I was keeping pace with all noticed. The shuttle bus driver who took us from the finish line a few miles to the start was amazingly perky and friendly at 6 a.m., wishing us all good luck.

River Boardwalk over the Genesee River.

A factor out of everyone's control but that everyone talked about was the weather--absolutely perfect conditions for a long-distance race. Mid-50s to start, some clouds, minimal wind. Those factors were the exclamation point on an already perfect day.

My one criticism--I have never enjoyed pizza after a race. I am never hungry for a good hour afterwards, but I do force down a banana, or a yogurt, or a granola bar. But pizza just never sits well with me. I couldn't imagine even wanting to think about pizza had I run the full 26.2. So, maybe something different afterwards? I could be the only one, but since this is my forum, I'm bringing it up.

Speaking of sustenance, I have never run a race that offered four different flavors of Gu. Four! And they had my latest favorite, Salty Caramel. Oh, and I don't know what flavor electolytes were out there, but when I sipped, I smelled and tasted flowers. Ew.

Anyway, a huge shout-out to the crew at Fleet Feet Rochester and Yellow Jacket Racing for an amazing morning spent in Rochester. I enjoyed the half marathon you folks put on in April, as well, taking us through a different set of Rochester neighborhoods and a different finish line.

I intend to return next fall, and I hope to run faster than 2:09!

Impressionists in Utica

2015-07-09T13:20:00.000-04:00

At the time it was emerging, Impressionism was laughed at by the art critics of the late 19th century. It was no compliment to call a painter an "impressionist." In fact, in 1874, labeling an artist as such meant the painter had no skill and lacked the common sense to finish a painting before selling it. Well, considering the enduring legacies of Claude Monet, Mary Cassatt, Berthe Marisot, Camille Pissarro and Alfred Sisley, it appears the artists got the last laugh.

A tidy exhibit currently at Utica's Munson-Williams-Proctor Arts Institute offers an overview of the Impressionist movement with 60 artworks, mostly paintings. Titled Monet to Matisse: The Age of French Impressionism, the display brings the observer closer to the at-the-time revolutionary style--at its zenith from 1874 to 1929--while teasing you as well. Despite its name, there are but one Matisse and two Monets. And don't expect any expansive paintings of Monet's gardens at Giverny or still lifes or nudes from Matisse; the only large work here, at nearly 7 feet tall by 9.4 feet wide, is The Joyous Festival, an oil on canvas by French painter Gaston La Touche. And the Monets are downright gloomy. Still, Monet to Matisse is not to be missed.


"Peasant Girl Among Tulips," 1890, oil on canvas by Berthe Merisot.

Rooted in rebellion, Impressionism formally launched in 1874, when Monet, Edgar Degas, Pissarro, Paul Cezanne, Auguste Renoir, Sisley and Morisot joined 23 other artists in a group show outside the recognized art exhibits called the Salon de Paris. The Impressionists exhibited together eight times between 1874 and 1886, each time likely ticking off the Salon, who could do nothing to stop them.

As a rule, Impressionists discovered art-worthy subjects in everyday, middle class people; they found poetry in everyday life. The interplay of light marks the common denominator in what defines Impressionism, and the landscapes featured in Monet to Matisse display that to great effect--incredible skies of blues, grays and whites are blanketed by cloud formations, for instance. To appreciate the entire canvas, start at the top of these paintings before moving down to then look at the entire scene.

The exhibit occupies five galleries on the second floor, and children's activities can be fun and educational for adults as well. Posters in an adjacent hallway explain who the artists were and why their work was important. Two iPad-like tablets contain greater details of the life and work of Camille Pissarro and, in a separate room, Marc Chagall. Both artists' work is displayed here as well, with Chagall's famous painted goat especially delightful.

"The Joyous Festival," ca. 1906, oil on canvas by Gaston La Touche.

You'll get a slight glimpse at the genius of Degas, through his "Dancer Adjusting Her Shoe" charcoal and pastel on paper, as well as that of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec with "Dancer Seated on a Pink Divan," an oil on canvas.

Adjacent to some paintings, a separate information sheet explains the clothing styles represented on the canvas, many showing ordinary people. Some subjects were more famous, as in "Portrait of Eugenia Huici Arguedas de Errázuriz," 1890, a pastel on canvas by Jacques-Emile Blanche overlooking a smaller gallery. The subject of this large, vertical painting was a Paris fashion icon in her day, and the dress she wears here shows why. It's a shimmering silver-blue tea gown standing out from the grays and greens of the background.

This exhibit shows why the Impressionists were so important to the transition between the 19th and 20th centuries, both in culture and in art, and may leave you wondering why they were ever ridiculed in the first place.

Monet to Matisse continues through Nov. 29. Admission is $10; $5 for students; free for children under 12. You'll find Munson-Williams-Proctor Arts Institute at 310 Genesee St., Utica. For more information, call (315) 797-0000 or visit mwpai.org.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

2015-06-29T10:55:00.000-04:00

First things first: I want to congratulate the female winner of the June 27 Yellow Brick Road 8K in Chittenango. I don't know if it was an oversight, but when awards time came, the race director mentioned male overall winner Andrew Foxenberg, but not Hillary Stratton. I sure hope it was an oversight. So, kudos to her!

This is yogic squat.

This is my Garmin.

And I'm pleased with my race time. Last year I ran this race in 47:35; this year, 45:56. To actually have run faster at a year older makes me happy. Even better, I ran the hills: no stopping and walking.

In addition, I tried something new during my warmup--knowing that tight hips contribute
to my odd stride and inefficient running form, I sat in a yogic squat for a few minutes to open those hips up. I think it worked, and I will continue to do this before every race. And race conditions were just about ideal--60 degrees, cloud cover, no wind and minimal humidity. I felt comfortable the entire time.

That aside, a few observations about this race:

This is the Cowardly Lion.

An 8K is a rarity in this 5K-dominated world. For those who don't have a calculator, that equals 4.97 miles. My Garmin registered 5.04 miles, possibly because I didn't cut the tangents tight enough.
I enjoy how this race mixes up terrains. It starts our flat before heading west on the Old Erie Canal trail for 1 mile. Then it's back to the roads and some challenging hills.
This race features one of the best finishes I've experienced--a fast downhill before enough of a flat to pick up steam as you cross the finish line.
Considering that it isn't chip timed (no complaints; it's a small enough crowd that results still come pretty quickly, and no chip means a more affordable race fee of $20.)
They offer some out-of-the ordinary door prizes, with winners selected during the race. When you get back, you see if you've won. Last year, I won a miniature tool kit.
Thank you for the whole banana, not one cut in two. And for the yogurt. And for the water and Gatorade. They also served pizza, but my stomach could never, uh, stomach pizza after a race.

Now, about that awards ceremony. Most races announce the top three winners, male and female, before heading into age group winners. Those overall winners are then removed from their respective age group, so that everyone bumps up a place. I know I can be a purist, but it was odd not knowing who actually scored the top three finishes for both genders.

I had planned on racing Tinman on June 27, a 70.3 triathlon in Tupper Lake with, I just realized, another The Wizard of Oz reference. Since I was laid off May 8 I couldn't justify the expense of driving to and staying two nights in the Adirondacks. A shout-out to that race director for allowing me to defer my race registration until 2016. That's a rarity these days, and I greatly appreciate it.

I was happy to have this run to sort of substitute for that tri. It's a quirky, hidden gem featuring a costumed cowardly lion to further the Yellow Brick Road theme.

A New Way to Explore Downtown

2015-06-10T17:16:00.000-04:00

Downtown Syracuse is the heart of the city, the cultural hub of Onondaga County, and a place where those who work actually spend little time exploring.

The group waits for the historical tour to begin.

A new joint initiative involving the Downtown Committee of Syracuse, SUNY Oswego Metro Center, Cornell Cooperative Extension, the American Heart Association, Metro Fitness, the YMCA of Greater Syracuse and Fleet Feet Sports aims to get folks out and about, exploring different facets of downtown during a 45-minute stroll.

It's called Wednesday Walk, and the group meets at Clinton Square at noon. Participants will be asked to sign a waiver, not only for liability purposes but also granting any of the sponsoring groups the right to use their photo in supporting literature.

The June 10 walk was a Historical Tour, and it highlighted the impressive structures scattered throughout downtown. Walk leader Bethany Holbrook, an Economic Development and Marketing Specialist at the Downtown Committee, brought up interesting historical factoids along the way.

For instance, did you know the Syracuse Savings Bank building, 1 Clinton Square, was at one time the tallest in the city? And it had the city's first elevator for which you could pay 10 cents per ride? Then there's the Courier Building, across Montgomery Street from City Hall. While most of the structure has been renovated into luxury apartments, a balcony remains on the eastern side (it is pictured below, with flowers on it). It was from this balcony that Daniel Webster gave his famous “Syracuse Speech” on May 26, 1851. Webster warned local abolitionists that aiding and abetting fugitive slaves would be considered treasonous, an interesting tactic considering Syracuse was known as a hotbed of abolition. Remember when the restaurant space inside this building was called "Daniel Webster's?" Yeah, me neither.

The impetus for Wednesday Walk came from the various sponsors listed above. "We have pockets of wellness initiatives combined with the revitalization of downtown," said Holbrook. "We want to show people that downtown is a great place, it's safe. We want to expose it to employees who are here during the week to work; we'll take them places perhaps they didn't know existed."

The Downtown Committee of Syracuse has published a booklet, "Historic Downtown Walking Tour," providing a more comprehensive tour of the city center. This was the source of the abbreviated Historical Tour of June 10. The glossy piece features photos of each site, as well as writeup explaining why each is included in the book in the first place. A map will guide you, or help you break the walk into smaller segments. You can find the same information online at http://syracusetour.herokuapp.com/.

In addition to learning something new and different about downtown Syracuse, the series also offers prizes as incentives for participating. The Stinky Sneaker Award goes to the participant who attends the most walks. The prize is a free pair of sneakers and a fitting from Fleet Feet. Soles of Downtown will go to the downtown company with the most employee participation. The winner receives a catered lunch for the Wednesday Walk participants.

Wednesday Walk sessions continue until October.

Mark Your Calendar
Participants in Wednesday Walk will want to wear comfortable shoes, apply sunscreen and wear a hat since at noon the sun beats down. The walk will be canceled only in the event of extreme weather--a rain shower means you should bring your umbrella; a downpour means no walk that day. This is the lineup for the remainder of the series:

June 24: Downtown Parks
July 8: Murals
July 22: Downtown Parks
July 29: Downtown Parks (this walk will be geared toward more elderly participants, so it will feature a leisurely pace)
Aug. 5: Murals
Aug. 19: Parking Garages
Sept. 2: Meeting Spaces
Sept. 16: Architecture Tour
Sept. 30: Meeting Spaces
Oct. 14: Parking Garages

I Can Work it Out

2015-06-04T13:46:00.000-04:00

Since my first job at age 14, washing dishes at the Charlebois in Vernon for $15 cold hard cash, I have rarely stopped. Back then $15 bought a Beatles album and enough to pay the bus fare to and from Utica where the record store was.

I tried to be a stay-at-home mother after the birth of my first child; after 8 months I was freelance writing, and after 14 months back in the workplace full-time. And that child is just as hard-working as her mother, so no damage done. Of course, it helps if you have quality child care you can trust, which I did. For those of you who have eaten at the Lady Bug Lunch Box food truck parked at State and Fayette, the proprietor, Pam Dwyer, watched both my children in her Eastwood home. Pammy was the best; she still is!

After the publisher at my long-term job (at which I had won awards for myself and the staff, but never mind that) didn't like my style and terminated my employment, I fortunately landed at a new place less than two weeks later. This time around, with a layoff from that job as of May 8, it hasn't been so easy. In a mere two years, the job market has changed, and not for the better, in my view.

As soon as I was told about the layoff (I had several days' warning), I began the search. I've gotten a few bites and two interviews, but both jobs were not quite right, and I wasn't quite right for the two jobs. Every day I make a list of things to do. Item #1 is "apply to 2-3 jobs." And, even if it was a part-time bank teller job that wouldn't be my first choice, I still apply. Like interviewing, the art of writing cover letters is just that, an art, and I continue to perfect both.

I have registered at indeed.com, elance.com, powertofly.com, upwork.com, jobsforjournalists.com, etc., etc. You get the idea. While the job of looking for a job can be a job some days, the Internet has simplified the task. Specialized searches entered at websites deliver new jobs to my email account every day; they greet me in the morning, and I look through every one of the listings.

Creativity is a plus, too. One job I am looking at would like someone with development experience. I always thought that to mean straight fund-raising, but an acquaintance just this morning explained that it could also be the actual development of a project or an idea. "Think of ideas you developed at The New Times that you could use as examples," she said. A-ha! I have a few of those.

Then there is the skill of "working your contacts." It's on my list to write down who I know and where they work and then setting up a meeting with them. Committing my skill set to paper is a big part of this, if only to gain confidence that you actually are quite capable.

Equally important is to really think about what you do on a daily basis, how you spend your free time. My passion is racing--running and triathlons. I would race every weekend if my body could handle it and I had the financial means. I would enjoy coaching other women toward their triathlon goals. I have a friend who works hard promoting the fitness lifestyle--she holds boot camps at a local park, welcomes others on training runs, has an impressive website--but those don't make her money.

What can I do with what works for me? How can I make that information relevant to others? And, most importantly, how can I make money doing those things?

And perhaps the toughest job is to remember that, while losing two jobs in three years is a huge blow to my confidence, I still must to project confidence in interviews. That's a job in itself!

Now, money has never meant that much to me--witness working for 13 years at a small alternatively newsweekly. But not having money is another story entirely. The goal is to make enough to pay the bills, give yourself or your family a bonus now and then, not worry about finances and save some every week.

After working for so long at a job I loved, but at which I was shamefully underpaid, it's difficult for me to quantify how much is my time worth, what is my value. I know how much it isn't worth--I saw a freelance job recently that pays $6 an hour. Less than minimum wage. Now that's shameful.

I also keep in mind what Michelle Obama and Sheryl Sandberg write and speak about. Mrs. Obama once told the supervisor at a job she was considering that she needed flexibility to take care of a sick child, to attend school functions, to have a life. It is so difficult for women to speak up and advocate for what they need to be both a stellar employee and a well-rounded human being. But she, and Sandberg, urge us to try.

Meanwhile, I will collect unemployment, make dinner again, hang the clothes on the line, take the dog for a walk and swim at noon, things I didn't have time for before. Most importantly, I will have the time to search for the job for me--the one I would like to retire from, the one I will consider my professional crowning achievement.

Flower Power

2015-04-29T11:55:00.001-04:00

We spent an enjoyable five hours in Rochester on April 26, leaving home at 5 a.m. to prepare for a 7:30 race start. I was there to run the Flower City Half Marathon, the first time I've done this race, but not the first time racing in Rochester, and hubby was there, as always, to provide support and take photos. Athletes numbering nearly 2,300 enjoyed nearly perfect running conditions (I would have liked about 5 more degrees), but for spectators it seemed a bit chilly.

Still, crowd support was impressive, with only miles 10-12, along the Genesee Riverway Trail, a little sparse. After running riverside, we emerged onto the Ford Street Bridge after we passed a small group of string musicians (larger than a quartet but smaller than a symphony orchestra) playing "Eleanor Rigby." From there it was a straight shot to the finish line, and I was able to pick up speed and finish strong, stronger than I have in many previous races.


That's one groovy medal.

Traffic control was outstanding, with friendly and cheerful police officers urging us on. The whole vibe just felt good.

My goal for the race was 2:14, modest to be sure but also realistic considering a month before I had run a terrible Syracuse Half Marathon and a week before this half a disappointing 10K. I lined up behind the 2:15 pace group but, surprising myself, quickly passed the pacers and settled in for the long haul. I was upset with myself when that group caught me with less than a mile to go. But I thought to myself, "Aw, hell no!" and left them in the dust.

Around mile 3 (I think), we entered a historic district featuring Susan B. Anthony's home. The supporters there, dressed in Anthony-era clothing, held signs saying "Votes for Runners." Similar fun and distracting support continued throughout.

The first half of the race followed flat city streets, taking us through downtown Rochester and then neighborhoods with lovely homes. Then, looming ahead, was the first tough hill of the course. I reminded myself how my girl, Deena Kastor, approaches changes in elevation: It gives the muscles something different to work with, so no worries. Still, the hills seemed relentless as we entered Highland Park and then Mount Hope Cemetery. Unlike in the Springtime 10K, I kept going. I refused to stop. I will conquer these hills. My reward for doing so was the flat that made up the remainder of the race.

Over and over again I spied a little boy dressed in a Spiderman suit, handing out high-fives (he and his dad must have been supporting mom/wife). We saw signs of support aplenty, among my favorites "You Look Skinny!" and "This is a lot of work for a free banana."

My overall goal this season is to work on the mental aspects of racing--when I feel like slowing to a walk, talk myself out of it; if a foot starts to twinge, give it a half-mile or so and then check in with it; remind myself that I have raced this distance before, whatever distance it is; and, above all, run the mile you are in. That last really helped me on Sunday.

After a helpful runner told me "That was the worst hill," upon conquering the first one, another runner said, "But it wasn't the only hill." There are more hills to come? Worry about them when you get there, not when they're still two miles away. And once the hills had been vanquished, a helpful spectator said, "That's it for the hills." No more hills? "Nope!" And I reached mile 9, knowing I had gotten through the worst of it. Only 4.1 miles to go. . .

The Plan for 2015

2014-12-03T14:39:00.000-05:00

It's nearly 2015 and my race calendar for the upcoming season is pretty full already. I will no doubt fill in the spaces between with a race here and there, but my major triathlon plans are complete.

I am challenging myself in 2015 to complete three 70.3s--Tinman, Peasantman and Incredoubleman, which I DNF (Did Not Finish) last year.

But my big news is qualifying for Age Group National Championships by winning my age group in the Incredoubleman sprint race. Boy, was I surprised by that email! The Nationals sell out pretty quickly, so I booked a hotel as soon as I could (since that can always be canceled) just in case the race was full. It wasn't, and I'm in. August 8, 2015 I will be competing with the top amateur Olympic-distance triathletes in the country. I know I won't finish last, but I wouldn't care if I did (well, maybe I would). I'll never have this chance again and I will go to Milwaukee with the foremost goal of enjoying the experience.

So with my ambitious schedule published at right, here is my off-season plan for being the most fit I can be so I can compete at my best throughout the year.

Weight-lifting, twice a week. We're not talking mega poundage here, but enough weight to tone without bulking. I am especially focusing on hip strength to avoid a repeat of the knee issues that plagued me last summer.
Get my new bike on a trainer, which means getting my butt to the CNY Tri Club's Winter Training Facility (WTF) so I can build a base of cycling fitness. The bike is my weakness, and I know I have to work on it more often. And thanks to my husband for buying me a spiffy tri bike so I have no more excuses.
Swim three times a week, with two of those drill-focused. I gave myself a good long time off from specific swim training after my last tri in mid-September. For 10 weeks I just swam. December 1 marked my return to the paddles, swim buoy and kickboard. I received all of those for Christmas last year, and training with them helped my race-day swimming considerably.
Be more religious about speedwork. Now that the Liverpool High School track is open again to the public, I truly have no reasons not to trot over there once a week. To race fast you have to train fast, and that means repeats at the track or on the treadmill when the weather isn't cooperating.
I always, year after year, work on my diet. Not "diet" to lose weight, but "diet" as in what I eat. Last year's effort to reduce processed food was successful, although I do like a bowl of cereal for breakfast when it's not oatmeal season. I really want to decrease sugar intake this year, though it won't be easy. Sugar has become the new salt as far as nutrition is concerned. It's just so bad for you. So, so bad. Also, increase intake of quality protein. Endurance athletes tend to focus on carbs, carbs, carbs, and while we need those I know I need more protein, especially for recovery. I am trying to incorporate some non-meat sources as well--quinoa, especially, and black beans. I love black beans.

So there it is in a nutshell. Easy, right? Right. In a perfect world, achieving those goals every day would be automatic. But what world is perfect? As long as you try to do better every day, you're making progress.

Molly Strong

2014-11-16T08:09:00.002-05:00

I spent 22 weeks training for the Harrisburg Marathon, which was Nov. 9. That's 154 days of running, foam-rolling, biking, swimming, weightlifting, yoga-ing and thinking about the fifth 26.2-miler I have taken on. That's 42% of a year, a long time!

While race day didn't go quite as those 22 weeks prepared me for, I did finish the race, we did travel to another city (always a plus) and I was able to take in the sights (some nice, some not so nice) of the capital of Pennsylvania.

As with any big race, you learn many things about yourself and about your training--improving is a never-ending quest. If we were perfect, what would be the point? And life sure would be dull. Lingering health issues manifested themselves yet again this year and I have committed to working on those in the off-season.

Arthritis flare-ups (left ankle and second toe on the right foot). The latter can't be fixed without another surgery, and I'm not sure I'm up for that, or if the insurance company would pay for a fourth. My podiatrist told me they now harvest cushioning pads from cadavers and one could be inserted between that joint, bone-on-bone, no cartilage in sight. Cortisone shots become less and less effective, so I've likely tapped those out. The doc did have me fitted for another pair of orthotics, meant to take pressure off the aching joint. I'm still breaking those in.

As for the ankle. . .I just started taking a glucosamine sulfate tablet every day in the hopes of forestalling further erosion of the cartilage in that joint. Studies aren't conclusive about the efficacy of glucosamine, but I'm willing to try. The pain became so intense around mile 19 in Harrisburg that I stopped and sobbed for a bit. But I kept moving forward.

Glute weakness. It may seem counterintuitive, but running actually atrophies your glutes, rather than strengthens them. As the quads get stronger (which will happen with running and biking), the back of the legs--hamstring to glutes--get weaker. That's a reason I had an issue with patellar tendonitis over the summer. My PT showed me some exercises, which mitigated that pain, but I admit I neglected those toward the end of marathon training. Time to get back to the weights, with focus on my butt (Kim K is not the goal here; think Jackie Joyner instead).

I am grateful to my Super Masters body that endurance was not an issue this training season, nor was speedwork. I completed enough of those workouts to my satisfaction for Harrisburg. I can't really train to avoid arthritis.

Now, to my thoughts about the race itself.

I really enjoyed the size of the field--about 800. The race director didn't have to employ pacers for a group of this size, but he did and for that I am thankful. I was able to hang with the 10:18/mile pacer (for a 4:30 finish) until about mile 16 (when Arthur showed up). It's really helpful to have a group to run with and at a pace you prefer.

Around mile 5. It was a surprise seeing my personal photographer here.

The start and finish on City Island, located in the Susquehanna River and large enough for a minor-league ballpark and other attractions, were delightful. Crossing both bridges a few times meant plenty of crowd support, especially from your personal cheerleader. That's always fun. The portion of the course along the river was quite pretty, flat and fast, providing plenty of spots for spectators. We spent about 3 miles running out on that and then coming back.

I liked the tour of downtown the first five miles afforded us, but I wonder why the course didn't take us past the attractive state Capitol. The band at the northern end of the Walnut Street bridge kept spirits high--too bad there weren't more musicians along the way. That said, the volunteer support for this race puts many other, larger, races to shame. People at every water stop were enthusiastic, helpful and encouraging. How I wish they could map a course that didn't take runners on the same roadway as 18-wheelers. Not only was it ugly, it was a bit intimidating running so close to these monsters. I didn't like miles 12-16 at all because of that--starting to feel pain in the ankle around 16 didn't help either.

The college students at mile 16 really stood out, even though the DJ played some obnoxious music (ick to Robin Thicke). Thanks to the woman at mile 17 handing out Twizzlers--a pleasant and tasty surprise. The next few miles through the nature preserve broke up the urban landscape, but that hill! It never seemed to end.

Seriously?

By far, however, my biggest gripes have to do with the finish line. Some idiot parent allowed their young child (3, maybe) inside the chute (see photo at left). He ran back and forth as we finished, putting himself and exhausted runners at risk of injury. I'm still trying to figure out why a race official didn't halt that nonsense immediately. Also, I realize I didn't finish this race in record time, but I did finish the race. I paid my entry fee just like a 3-hour marathoner did. So......where was the food? I had my choice of dry slice of ham-and-cheese sub and dry slice of ham-and-cheese sub. And bagel halves. And that was it! No bananas, no orange slices, no brownies, no cookies. Not happy. I heard a few days from a Syracuse friend who ran a leg of the relay that they had an "incredible" fruit salad, including fresh pineapple, for runners. Gone; all gone! Even more not happy.

I don't get that part at all. If you see non-runners taking food, ask them to stop. If you see you are running short, set some aside for the late-finishers. Surely you had radio contact out there on the course and you knew a good 50 people had yet to finish. There really is no excuse.

So I would rate Harrisburg a good, not great, marathon. It had so much right going for it, but my experience at the finish line left me disheartened. We won't be back. If I race another marathon next fall, it'll likely be Mohawk-Hudson, my first, run way back in 2006. We'll see if the off-season strength training and glucosamine help with my weaknesses. If not, I'll drop back to half-marathons. Since arthritis seems to flare at mile 16 (as it has the last two marathons I attempted), running 13.1 miles will be a breeze!

It Took My Breath Away

2014-07-21T16:25:00.002-04:00

I'm not sure if the lifeguard in the kayak thought I was crazy or stupid. And I gave him two opportunities to decide. About 500 meters from the swim finish of the Delta Olympic triathlon on July 20, I gulped way too much water. When that happens (as invariably it will in open water), I stop short, catch my breath and keep going. This time was different.

Back in February I suffered a nasty bout of bronchitis, and for several months afterward, whenever I swallowed wrong, my breath would catch, almost as if my epiglottis got stuck. A whack on the back would set things right (and frighten the kids), until my husband convinced me to see the doctor. A steroid inhaler quelled the problem.

Sunday morning it happened again. But this time I was in a lake and there was no hubby to get it to stop. I looked toward the kayak, raised my hand and yelled for help. The lifeguard came right over. I told him the problem (between gasps), and rested for about two minutes. At one point, I asked him to whack me on the back with his paddle. "Really?" he asked. "Yep." Crazy or stupid, take 1. He instructed me to pull long, deep breaths, and things were set aright.

I thanked him, and started off. "You're going to keep going?" "Of course I am," I responded. Clearly this kid doesn't know me well. Crazy or stupid, take 2.

And thus began my 3-hour journey in and around Delta Lake State Park, in northern Oneida County, a place my mother took us often in the summer. The Olympic distance tri is generally a mile swim, a 24-mile bike ride, and a 6-mile run. I have competed at Delta three times, if memory serves, first in the sprint distance and then twice in the Olympic. It's a terrific, well-run and organized race, put on by ATC Endurance.

Even with that minute-or-so respite, I can't complain about my swim time. I tried a new strategy for the start--lining up on the buoy side, instead of in the middle of the pack. I was surprisingly untouched for a good deal of the race, and even drafted a swimmer ahead of me, careful to back off if her feet got too close to my face. And with the buoys right there, I didn't drift off track. I always feel triumphant when I pass the men, who yesterday started swimming five minutes ahead of the women, and I left several behind me as I exited the water.

Transition to the bike went pretty well--the new wetsuit I got for my birthday comes off much easier than the one it replaced. The bike was OK--my pace was 16.7 mph--an improvement but not even close to where I wish I could be. I am hopeful that the new bike I am saving to purchase later this year will be a faster ride.

Me and my improved, less damaging, stride.

Last year's race was brutally hot, and my run time showed it. This year topped 77 degrees with considerable cloudiness, which helped a lot. I also have been seeing a physical therapist for about six weeks to solve this patellar tendonitis I feel in both knees. For the first time in quite a while I ran pain-free; the tedious exercises are working, as is my attempt to change my running gate. Being a heel-striker for 30 years has not been good for my joints. This photo shows that I am having some success at changing that stride--nearly my entire foot is hitting the ground at once, instead of just my heel. Bonus: I actually placed third in my age group on the run.

While I wish I had placed higher in my age group, I conquered the only goal I set for myself--finishing faster than last year's time of 3:05:08. This year's finish clocked in at 3:04:38, a fact my astute husband pointed out as soon as I crossed the finish line.

This is Jade. See Jade swim. See Jade bike. See Jade run.

A big shout-out to my girl, Jade Barth Mills, an ultramarathoner who completed her first triathlon, this one, and she beat me! We exited the water at about the same time, I passed her once on the bike, but she got me back, and I can never keep up with her on the run (even though I used to about 10 years ago). Good on you, Jade! I hope you caught the triathlon bug and I see you at future races.

Next up for me: Cayuga Olympic Triathlon, Aug. 3. Last year's time was 3:14:57, but I did finish 3rd in my Age Group! The bike there is tough. So I'll aim for 3:11.

Which Amazing Race?

2014-05-29T14:43:00.002-04:00

I realize it's almost a year away, but I am already considering a spring 2015 marathon. There are four held in May from which to choose, and each brings with it a number of pros and cons. All four races receive ratings and comments at marathonguide.com, so while also consulting that, I'll attempt to make a decision as a write.

Buffalo Marathon, May 24, 2015; 1,286 finishers. $70 (with a $5 discount if you register by June 1).
I have run, and pretty much enjoyed, the half marathon three times (if memory serves). It looks as if the race director mapped out a new course this year, which is a good thing, because the old course's second jaunt along Lake Erie was dreadfully boring. We are familiar with Buffalo, it's less than 3 hours from home and this race is a well-run event. However, we are familiar with Buffalo; not much new to see there.

Ottawa Marathon, May 24, 2015; 5,425 finishers. $105 (Canadian, 2014 price). Oh, so much positive to say about Canada's capital. I love this city; every time I have visited I have been charmed by the architecture, the friendly natives and just the fun of being in another country. And I hear terrific things about this race. But I also have read some negatives regarding lodging: price hikes with ridiculous minimum stays at the hotels. And while we have no reason to fear Customs, it's still such a hassle to cross back into the U.S. Ottawa is about 3-1/2 away, not too far at all. And, hey, it's Ottawa!

Pittsburgh Marathon, May 3, 2015; 4,500 finishers. $95 (2014 price). The earliest of the races on this list, this marathon comes highly regarded as well. However, my understanding is that it's hilly between miles 12 and 24. And while I have never shied away from hills, they are starting to be the enemy to my creaky knees. I have been in Pittsburgh twice (many family members live in the area), and it would provide the most metropolitan experience of the four. The early race date is a decided disadvantage (hard to get in decent long runs should Syracuse's upcoming winter be as harsh as the most recent one we suffered through). It's also more than 6 hours away, making travel a bit onerous.

Vermont City Marathon, Burlington Vt., May 24, 2015; 2,432 finishers. $90 (2014 price). I have been in Burlington once, and it's a gorgeous place to visit. The marathon map shows a good portion of the race route along Lake Champlain. Hotels there offer shuttle service, and some even provide early breakfast for the runners (other hotels in other marathon cities should take note). And it's pretty close to where Ben & Jerry's is produced, necessitating a visit, which could be the deciding factor. The comments about this race on marathonguide.com are overwhelmingly positive. It's farther away than Ottawa (5-hour drive), but still not a ridiculous distance.

Now, I realize all of this is a bit premature, considering I have a marathon coming up in November, and anything can happen on marathon race day; anything. But I enjoy looking ahead and dreaming and thinking that maybe, just maybe, I can tackle two marathons a year. So, have I decided? I do believe I have. But it wouldn't be nice if I didn't consult the driver/photographer/supporter/cajoler. Time to ask the hubby, and see what he thinks. Those of you who follow me on Twitter and Facebook will see my decision once it's made.

If, in the comments, you'd like to give your opinion, feel free. I am always open to suggestions, good or bad, and willing to listen, especially since I'm asking!

Things Have a Way of Working Out

2014-02-11T19:52:00.001-05:00

A year ago today I was "let go" from the only job I thought I had ever wanted.

True story: When I was a journalism student at Syracuse University, I would see the Syracuse New Times at one of my three places of employment, the long-gone Burger King on Marshall Street. I read it; I liked it. I announced to myself, "I want to be the editor of that paper."
After a circuitous route that included two years as a copy editor at a major daily newspaper, the editor of a small alternative weekly in Ithaca, years of freelancing, and working for a labor union as their communications director, I achieved that dream.
When I told Shirley Zimmer, former co-owner of The New Times, this story, she couldn't contain her awe that I had predicted my future 20 years before it became my present.
I spent 13 years on staff at the third-oldest alternative newsweekly in America, one as staff writer and 12 as editor-in-chief. It was daunting, it was scary, it was nerve-wracking, it was gray hair-producing, it was exhilarating, it was fun. I got to interview people I never could have imagined: Ray Suarez, Liz Phair, Pete Best, Graham Nash, Hillary Clinton. Actually, I had tea with her one late August morning; it was awesome.
Sure there were issues working there--any newsroom has its stresses, but an alt-weekly newsroom's are magnified.
The money stinks.
The benefits (what few there are) are pricey.
The work can be all-consuming.
You are perennially understaffed.
Every Tuesday, production day, demanded undivided attention--no doctor appointments, no lunches outside of the building, no idea when you might make it home.
For years I convinced myself that the positives far outweighed the negatives (life is merely a series of trade-offs, right?). Besides, it was a pretty cool job.

A year ago today my life changed. I had never before been fired from a job. I had never before worked so hard for someone who had no clue 1) how hard I was working, 2) why I was working so hard and, 3) why I so desired to protect the paper's integrity and my editorial staff. The dirty deed happened on a Tuesday, after the paper was put to bed; figures.
I cried (but not outside my office). I called my husband and cried. I called my daughter and cried. I went home and cried. I drank too much wine and cried.

I have never been one to wallow, however, so instead of continuing to feel sorry for myself, the next morning I posted a candid status update on Facebook. The community outpouring of support was incredible and flattering, and served to boost my self-confidence in the face of the ego-deflation I had just experienced.

Now, Facebook is both a blessing and a curse. Three-hundred-sixty-four days ago, I was truly blessed when a friend-of-a-Facebook-friend contacted me via, what else?, Facebook to say she had a position available, and would I want to come in and talk about it. Would I?

Almost a year later, I am enjoying this job (can't call it new anymore) at a different labor union than the one I worked at before, helping communicate the plight of workers, learning so much I can't even begin to list it, being part of a team that is like-minded and dedicated to the members we represent. I am doing good work, important work, satisfying work, and that's really what matters.

Some things, I believe, are truly meant to be. Way back in 1981, when I transferred to Syracuse University's Newhouse School, after I finally realized Skidmore College and I didn't mesh, my sister was organizing upstate New York healthcare workers for an upstart Service Employees International Union local. I moved in with her (free rent in exchange for keeping the apartment clean).

Nearly 30 years later, I find myself working at the place she helped form way back when (life can truly be strange). Some people she worked with are still with the union, and they remember her, and they remember me. And it feels wonderful to be appreciated.

So what's the takeaway?
1. You're never too old to learn some lessons about life, or at least have them reinforced.
2. Life isn't fair, but it isn't meant to be fair.
3. Hard work does pay off, often in surprising ways.
4. Try as you might, you cannot control your destiny. You can take steps toward your life's goals, but they may get derailed. The key is to bounce back, be flexible and keep an open mind.
5. Dreams often turn into nightmares and then back into dreams.
6. When the going gets tough, the tough get going (one of my mother's favorite sayings).

Lost in Cyberspace

2013-11-13T13:33:00.000-05:00

This is a gripe.

I am having a terrible time retrieving my Running Log from runnersworld.com. I have kept this log since 2006, and it contains data that is important to a runner: personal records, miles run per week or month or year, shoes worn and mileage accrued on those shoes. I can't access any of that, and the customer service folks at Runner's World as well as Rodale, which publishes the magazine, in a word, suck! I have emailed, I have called, I have left messages. Nothing! Nada! Zilch!

I have already transferred the mileage on my five active pair of running shoes to beginnertriathlete.com. (FYI: You should replace shoes every 400-500 miles, that's why it's important to know). That was easy.

But what I'm really frustrated about is the lost-in-the-vortex information about my PRs. My best running year ever was 2007; that year, I PR'd at every distance. As I am starting to regain some speed (but likely not all of it, due to this annoying thing called aging), I want to compare current race times with my best, or even with those of 2009, or 2011.

It is nearly 2014, and I find it hard to believe that runnersworld.com doesn't have a mechanism for the subscriber to change his/her email and password, without the verification link going to the email address you no longer can use! If I log in using social media, all my accumulated information in my log is not there; I am considered a new user. When I contact customer service from the link on the website to change my password, the link for the new password goes to the email address that doesn't exist.

I can't figure out a solution to this problem, a first-world problem, but a problem just the same.

So I hope someone in customer service at Rodale sees this and gets in touch (or listens to my messages and calls me back). When you ask me to contact you, using a specific, non-toll free, phone number, and I get a recording telling me you're with other customers and to leave a message, shouldn't I rightfully expect a return call? Why do I have to call several days in a row, only to get that same message? Why don't customer service reps listen and respond to the previous day's messages at the beginning of the next day?

And I'm not a freeloader; I have subscribed to Runner's World and Bicycling, both Rodale publications, for years.

If anyone reading this can posit a solution for me, please leave it in the comments section. Thanks.

The Little Engine That Could

2013-11-07T15:43:00.002-05:00

Well, the endurance experiment I conducted on myself earlier this fall was a partial failure; but it was also a partial success. My ultimate goal is to complete an Ironman-distance race in 2016, the year I turn 55 (gasp!). In order to test my mettle, I decided to return to a marathon this year--2007 was the last year I ran 26.2 miles at one time. I finished the Indianapolis Marathon in a respectable 4:03:24, missing Boston Marathon qualifying by so little that it still hurts. And speaking of hurts, a few months later the second metatarsal in my left foot snapped from overuse, which meant had I made Boston I couldn't have run it anyway.

Funny how things have a way of working out.

Ultimate goal in mind, I decided to train for a half-Ironman distance triathlon while also gearing up for a marathon, just to see if I could. If you're wondering how that went, re-read the first sentence of this blog.

Because Facebook is such a public forum, I'm sure most of you know that I posted a big, fat DNF at the Steamtown Marathon, Oct. 13. I'm still not certain what happened to me that day, but I do know I missed out on a gorgeous medal and a quick, downhill sprint to the finish. We still made sure to stop by Bingham's Family Restaurant on the drive home for lunch and a piece of pie. Maybe we'll return to Scranton in 2015 for some unfinished business; we'll see.

For redemption, I bumped my entry into the following week's Empire State Half Marathon to the full distance. I have to credit Richard Gardner, who planted the idea that I should look at Steamtown as a training run and finish the unfinished in my hometown. And thanks to my hubby, who never says no, but only asks if I'm up to the task, whatever race it happens to be.

It's a rarity for me, but I didn't run the Empire State Marathon for the time; I ran it for pride, for self-confidence and for all my friends and family who were rooting for me to get it done. Five hours after I began, I finished that sucker, even though the last 8 miles were a real struggle. I saw many supporters on the course, at water stations, directing traffic, just watching, which certainly helped.

Special thanks to my work buddies, Dawn (with her daughter Ava) and Trisha for waiting patiently for me at the finish line, holding the best sign I saw all morning:

"Remind me never to run a marathon again; a half, sure, but not a full," I told my husband and two good friends a few minutes after I finished.

Two days later I was already investigating which marathon to conquer in 2014 (you knew that was coming). While I fully intend to return to Northeast Pennsylvania to get that Steamtown medal, for next year I'm leaning toward the Harrisburg Marathon. Many factors point me in the direction of the capital of Pennsylvania, not the least of which is timing. Although I followed an 18-week training schedule for Steamtown, as opposed to the usual 16 weeks, a few more weeks for a few more long runs--20-23 miles (the real hard work of marathon training)--would have helped. Harrisburg is held Veteran's Day weekend, even more time to fit in three more long runs, especially if I start in May or June.

And just like 2013, I will be training for a long-distance triathlon (or should I say two triathlons). Sept. 13 and 14, you'll find us in lovely Sackets Harbor for the Incredoubleman Triathlon. A sprint distance race is on Saturday, while the 70.3 starts 24 hours later. This will be an adventure, sure, but completing this challenge will further solidify my desire and confidence in my ability to race that day-long, 140.6-mile tri in 2016.

Sure I've lost some running speed since turning 50, but my endurance is better than ever. I just hope I can find adequate time to complete the training required. Since we're talking a little under three years from now, I have plenty of time to figure it out.

Big George Was Too Big

2013-09-04T16:42:00.000-04:00

Never having been to Lake George, I had no idea what to expect. We rolled into town on Saturday, Aug. 31, and immediately it felt a bit touristy for my taste. Even worse, coffee was not available in town on Sunday until after the race started at 7 a.m. (you'd think merchants would figure this stuff out). Still, the area around the Lake George Triathlon Festival site presented a good flow for the swim-bike-run of the 70.3-mile Big George, my A race for 2013.

At the same I have been training for this race, I have been working toward the Steamtown Marathon, Oct. 13 in Scranton, Penn. It's been tough training for two races at once--at the end of every week, I feel like I haven't done enough running or biking. With one small tri to go, I now have more time to devote to running.

Add a new job--and everything there is to learn with that--and you have someone with not enough time who didn't pay attention to certain aspects of her training--longer bricks (bike/run) workouts, for example, and long bike rides. Still, I had a quality tune-up race at the Cayuga Lake Olympic Tri, so I knew I would finish Big George (an injury forced me to drop out of one race in my long career). I'm nothing if not stubborn.

The hotel was situated about a 1/4-mile from the race site. However, I never sleep well in hotel rooms, and this being Labor Day weekend, I should have known better. The drunks were in fine form on both sides of our room, fireworks boomed, making it difficult for me to get to sleep, and I made the mistake of saying yes to my stepdaughter's request that her boyfriend come along. Their whispering at 1 a.m. woke me up, and kept me up. It was not a good night (in good triathlete fashion, I have already learned from the aforementioned mistakes). Add insufficient coffee, and no traditional pre-race breakfast of scrambled eggs and a wheat bagel with peanut butter (no way to cook the eggs)--well, you know where I'm going with this.

Anyway, bikes had to be in transition on Saturday, one less thing to think about on race day. Sunday morning, 5:30 a.m., I headed to transition, toweled off the night's rain from my bike, and set up my gear. One of my favorite things about triathlons is that 99% of the people who compete are wonderfully friendly and helpful. At this race, they placed us "old ladies" together, helping me to size up the competition. Immediately I spotted a woman no taller than I but a lean, mean fighting machine, and thought, "There's the age group winner." We all chatted, got our gear ready, put on our wetsuits and headed across the street to Lake George, incredibly calm and a perfect 73 degrees.

I had wanted to swim the 1.2 miles in 40-45 minutes; I came out of the water in 43 (yay!), but a key mistake in the lake affected my time. I wasn't hugging the buoy line at all (I wondered where everyone else was), and kept getting off course, adding meters to an already-long swim. In fact, at one point while sighting, I saw a yellow kayak move in front of me, blocking my way and forcing me back on course (thank you). I had counted the big pink balls from shore (there were 9) and spent the swim counting them down--that worked for me at Steelhead 70.3 last year, giving me something to do. It was a small swim wave, and I started on the outside, so no need to wrestle with anyone for position. Except for getting a little off-course, this was an excellent swim!

Then on to the bike, the dreaded bike. Now, don't get me wrong, I love biking--it's the fastest way to cover ground (that's not driving) and this course was especially scenic. It's just that I'm terrible at it! The 4-mile climb out of town wasn't nearly as challenging as the 10 miles up Sweet Road in the beginning of the Syracuse 70.3; now that's a hill! I was impressed by the excellent volunteer support and police officers stationed at key intersections. They would prove helpful when two idiot drivers, on two separate occasions, thought the officer was waving them through when he meant that I could go.

The bike course goes along the Schroon River (I got a chuckle when an Adopt A Highway sponsor, as written on those blue signs, was, "Just Schroon Around." Get it? Adirondack humor.) Approaching Brant Lake felt like going back in time, with gorgeous homes and summer camps abutting the lake; charming is an apt description. The back side of this course is quite fast--the uphills of the eastern side became downhills--and just lovely. I bet in about three weeks it'll be even prettier.

I finished the bike near my goal time (I had wanted 3:35, but got 3:37, not bad for my worst discipline of the three) and changed my shoes and donned my hat for my joy, my first love, my best event--the run! The nice breeze on the bike became a blanket of humidity on the run, not oppressive, but moist just the same. And the first mile of the run was uphill! And the second! Which meant, in a two-loop course, miles 7 and 8 are the same uphills; there were some inclines on the back side of this course as well, but up always goes down. I had trouble opening my packet of Gu Chomps because I was too sweaty. An obliging volunteer at a water stop opened it for me, but it cost me some time.

I just could not get into a rhythm, but the wonderful downhills kept me going. The hubby was at the bottom of the first loop (I say bottom because it was downhill), and then up I went again. It was agonizing for me--remember, I love to run, and I usually am pretty good on hills. When I realized I was struggling I downgraded my goal, which had been 6:45. New goal: under 7 hours. I crossed the finish line at 6:59:19. Whew!

I watched the awards ceremony and sure enough, there she was, my predicted winner in the 50-54 age group, grabbing first place. Well, good for her!

As an aside, and mighty impressive--a woman won this race; yes, a woman, and after she had won the previous day's Olympic distance triathlon--they call this double-race King George. This is second race I have been in this year (the first was a 10K) when a woman crossed the finish line first. Title IX is finally paying off.

On the advice of the race director, whom I had emailed earlier in the week to ask about post-race showers, I headed toward what they call "Million Dollar Beach" to a clean bathhouse with hot showers! And changing rooms! Thanks, New York State Department of Environmental Conservation! Cold showers are the worst!

So, I've taken a few days to mull this race over, especially trying to figure out what went wrong on the run. These are my takeaways, things I will change for the next big race:

1. Do longer bike rides leading up to race day. I had done a few 40-milers and one 56-miler in the four weeks ahead of Sept. 1; clearly not enough.

2. Run off those longer bike rides. I do brick workouts once a week at least, after a 20- to 25-mile bike ride, and then only 2 to 3 miles of running; clearly not enough. This happens to be a factor of time--I need a good five hours to complete such a workout, and that's very difficult to carve out of my busy life. I need to find a way because I know it will reap benefits.

3. Do more hill work. I drove out to bike the beloved Sweet Road hill-from-hell, and did hill repeats closer to the house but I did them once each, meaning twice total; clearly not enough. Same goes for the run. A problem for me is that where I live, there are no hills. That was an advantage to living on the east side of Syracuse--drumlins galore! I'll figure it out.

4. Honestly assess my nutrition. I'm not sure I'm eating properly for what I'm asking my body to achieve week in and week out. This is something I will study over the winter.

Now, did I successfully train for a half-ironman race at the same time as a marathon? I guess I'll find out Oct. 13 in Scranton. Will I attempt another half-ironman? Of course! In fact, I plan to try something completely different in 2014, a new event called Incredoubleman, Sept. 13-14, a weekend devoted to several distances in gorgeous Sackets Harbor. I will race Saturday's sprint distance tri, and then compete in Sunday's 70.3.

Hey, I have more than a year to train!

Try This Tri

2013-08-05T14:58:00.001-04:00

It was relatively chilly at 6 a.m. on Sunday, August 4, when we pulled into Taughannock Falls State Park for my latest adventure, the Cayuga Lake Intermediate Triathlon. I had done the sprint distance of this race in 2011 and remember it fondly. As I build up to my A race, Big George 70.3 on Sept. 1, I wanted to use the Olympic distance to test my fitness level.

Windy conditions affected the first two legs--the swim and the bike--but I told myself, "That's no excuse; it's windy for everyone." So I mustered my will and made it through the chop, even after the aggressive, female-only swim start sent my heart rate sky high until I found a lane and could start swimming instead of flailing. (Note to self: do not start swimming in the middle of the pack--off to the side would be much calmer and you can get into a groove that much quicker.)

The run, which let me down two weeks earlier at Lake Delta, returned to me with a vengeance. I'm still running above a 9-minute mile but yesterday I actually felt like I was running. My hamstring let me do my thing, and I let loose. My inner runner girl kicked in and I spent 6 miles passing people. What a relief.

Overall, I finished 3/10 in my age group (a surprise), 41/77 among women and 179/236 overall. Ithaca has a healthy community of triathletes, and I am happy that I was able to keep up. . .somewhat.

There are many reasons to recommend this race. Here are some:

1. They provide bleachers to the spectators. I have never been to another race that offers a place for supporters to sit while they wait for their athlete to cross the finish line.

2. The race T-shirt is made of recycled plastic bottles. And it fits properly. I have countless shirts that are size small, but they are unisex small so they look like a box. These, however, fit perfectly and they're stylish too.

3. The swim announcer was just a hoot, putting us at ease as we started our race. And his buddy who "played" the trumpet signaling that each swim wave had to assemble (like at the beginning of a horse race)--he was another hoot and a real anxiety reliever.

4. While the bike is difficult, a portion of those 24 miles goes along a road adjacent to Cayuga Lake. Spectacular houses dot the lakeshore, and on many of their porches sat supportive spectators, cheering us along. It helped me forget the hills, temporarily.

5. If you race the sprint distance, you get to cap off your feat with a run to Taughannock Falls, the tallest waterfall east of the Rocky Mountains, plunging 215 feet. If you race the intermediate, your run distance is doubled and you're lucky to run to the falls twice. That tumbling, picturesque water could be a huge distraction, and I commented to the two volunteers at the turnaround that they had the prettiest spot in the entire race. So, if you need to take a walk break, this would be a perfect place to do so. As an aside, my sister was married at the spot below.

6. Another advantage to the run is that athletes tramp on grass (next to the lake and then Taughannock Creek) before linking to the hiking trail leading to and from those falls. Absolutely no roads. Sailboats and kayaks dot the water. It's just incredibly scenic (and safe).

7. Assigned spaces in the transition area. This saves so much pre-race anxiety and rushing around because you're trying to secure a "better" spot in the most optimal location than your fellow competitors. No one is elbowing out the person next to you for more space. It's so much calmer, and makes for less stress on race day. And if you're running a little late getting to the race venue, it's OK.

8. Impressive volunteer support and inspiring spectators. Coming back in from the bike on Route 96, I got a huge rush from the strangers lining both sides of the road cheering, ringing cowbells and holding signs. (And that's another thing--this race handed out cowbells!) It's such a great feeling, and provides much needed motivation before your final leg (ha ha), the run. The water stops on the run course each had a theme--I remember pirates and then a Motown tent near the falls, decorated with actual vinyl 45 records and women wearing poodle skirts (imagine hauling all that water, gatorade, decorations, etc., more than a mile up the hiking trail). If volunteers make that much of an effort for several hundred athletes, the least we athletes can do is thank them, several times.

9. Good, plentiful food afterwards. The Wegmans boxed lunches provided a healthy coda, with choices from roast beef, turkey and veggie. Whereas some races run low on water, this one had plenty. Part of the reason, as I observed it, was that the volunteers controlled who could grab what. No race number: No boxed lunch. It was that simple. And the table loaded with cut up fruit--perfect. While we didn't wait in the long line for ice cream, a free cone after a race hits the spot.

10. Awards as individual as Ithaca, and as this race. Those who placed 1 to 3 in the women's age groups received handmade necklaces; just a nice touch. I don't know what the men received, but I'm sure it was just as special.

I heartily recommend this race. It sells out rather quickly, so be sure to pay attention to the Ithaca Triathlon Club's website for updates. It'll be tough to find a prettier spot for a triathlon in all of upstate New York than this one and if you have time afterwards, a visit to Ithaca yields all sorts of delights.

I intend to return next year; will I see you there?

Size Matters

2013-05-08T13:53:00.000-04:00

I wore a size 2 pair of capris to work yesterday. Why is that noteworthy, you may ask? Because I am not a size 2, never have been, likely never will be. At my leanest a few years back I was a size 4 (not a 2), still am a snug size 4 (since I'm not quite as lean as I would like). I have read about size inflation (or is it deflation?), where a size 6 today is equivalent to a size 10 of years past. But the reality of it hit me when I went shopping for a simple pair of capris to greet the amazing weather we've enjoyed this last week.

I grabbed several manufacturer's size 4 and headed to the dressing room. Every last one of the capris (my mother actually called them "pedal pushers" because you wore them while riding your bike!) was roomy, especially through the waist, leading me to conclude that perhaps I had picked up the wrong size. Happy with a style I found, and confirming that I was actually holding the "correct" size, I trudged back out to the sales floor and grabbed a 2. Even that was a bit roomy, but I settled for the larger waist thinking I could wear a belt.

Did I rejoice at being a size 2? No. Especially since I know that size isn't at all what it should be (and I'm not really a size 2), and at another store, or with another manufacturer I would likely be fitting into a 6 or even an 8 (one reason I truly detest shopping). How do I know this? Well, consider the evidence.

In high school, I weighed 109 pounds consistently, and wore a junior size 9 consistently. Today I weigh a few pounds over that (albeit more muscular pounds because of all the training I do), and I suddenly fit into a misses size 2. It really makes no sense, except as some corporate collusion to mess with women's minds, yet again, about their size and body image.

Think about all the media attention postpartum celebrities get about their "baby weight" and speculation about when they might lose it. I felt bad for Jessica Simpson, who was practically ridiculed after she gave birth because she hadn't melted down to her pre-pregnancy weight as quickly as some would have liked. Or how about Kim Kardashian (trust me, I'm no fan). But that poor woman has been splashed all over celeb rags (er, I mean mags) because she's gained substantial weight while pregnant (well, guess what? I gained 50 pounds during each of my pregnancies and I succeeded in losing it, even though it took a year each time). Or Lady Gaga, who"let herself go," some said, when she gained 30 pounds. Or Jennifer Lawrence, that delightfully refreshing Oscar-winning actress, who has said she is considered fat in Hollywood.

Uh-huh. And I'm a millionaire.

See how ridiculous it all is! Don't we have more important things to worry about in this society?

Now, if I'm a size 2, what does a legitimate size 2 do for clothing? Size 0 is quite hard to come by, especially now that Petite Sophisticate is no more. Does the legitimate size 2 shop in the junior section? I don't know about you, but 75% of the clothing I see in junior sections I wouldn't let my junior-size 1 stepdaughter wear.

I wish I had some pithy conclusion to all this, but I don't. Next time I shop I'll have to plan for more time, since I'll likely have to try on several sizes until I find one that fits, no matter what the number says.

Big Rewards from Small Packages

2013-04-08T14:09:00.000-04:00

Everyone who reads this blog knows of my love for racing. I'm not entirely sure where this competitive creature that lurks inside me came from. Perhaps it's latent frustration at coming of age in the 1970s, when girls were just gaining some respect for being athletic. Perhaps it's compensation for my inability to think and speak on my feet. Instead of commanding a place verbally, I try to do it athletically. No matter; it's a personality trait, and one I have come to embrace over the last 10 years I've been focusing on running for more than recreation.

Here's something else I've come to discover about myself--I enjoy running the smaller races, and not just because I am better able to place in my age group (though that's a nice perk). A lot of these races take place in small towns--with the charms those can offer--benefit a wonderful cause and often show off a feature of the place, whether it be a terrific high school band, a spectacular waterfront view or a historic site.


Just missed my goal of 55 minutes while besting the two women behind me.

Now, don't get me wrong; I still enjoy what I call "the spectacle race," the one with several thousand runners that tends to cost a bit more but also shows off how popular running has become. While I will always try to run Syracuse's Mountain Goat with its beautiful view from Onondaga Park in Strathmore or its challenging hills, I have no burning desire to run the New York City Marathon and its several tens of thousands of runners. As a Central New Yorker, it's expected that I head to Utica every July for the Boilermaker. Well, guess what? After running that legendary 15K for several years, I'm done; I'm over it. The BM is behind me (so to speak). And that's OK--if me not running clears up a registration spot for a rookie runner, all the better. And when you get to the top of the hill at mile 6, please trip the guy on stilts (I've wanted to do that for years!).

While in the midst of training for the May 5 Mountain Goat, I returned to two races I have done before, both with their smaller-town charms. The School House to White House 5K in Pulaski benefits the high school marching band and its quest to travel to Washington, DC to perform at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. It's a small race--this year 131 participated in the 5K--but it appears early in the racing calendar (March), so it's a terrific way to enjoy some fresh air and help along a good cause.

Then this past weekend, we headed back to Rome for the Fort to Fort 10K. This race has been active for 26 years, yet I rarely see anyone from Syracuse there. That's a shame because they are missing out on 1) a rare 10K, 2) the coolness factor of running into and out of Revolutionary War-era Fort Stanwix, 3) and the chance to benefit the Red Cross. This race costs a mere $20--while some 5Ks are going off the charts by charging $35 and more. The course featured a downhill at the beginning--which became a challenging uphill at the end--and a whole lot of flat in between. Excellent course support from friendly volunteers and police officers made the 6.2 miles fly by (well, almost).

As an added bonus, we are seeking races that have a kids' fun run attached, as did these two (as well as the Mountain Goat). My 9-year-old stepdaughter enjoys the fun aspect of these runs, but she especially likes the goodies she receives after a job well done. Maybe she won't wait until her 40s for her own inner competitor to emerge.

My next race: The DAR 5K, April 14, another smallish event that raises money to
send Tanzanian children to college. Who can argue with that?

Moving On

2013-03-22T11:02:00.000-04:00

Not one to procrastinate, I put off writing this blog for almost six weeks. Now, with the Twittersphere and Facebook somewhat quiet today (must have been that late start to the Syracuse University men's basketball game last night), I may as well get this down, while it's still somewhat fresh.

Most of you know that I was fired from my 13-year job as editor-in-chief of the Syracuse New Times on Feb. 12. I will not go into detail about that awful day, but I will say a few things about it.

* Hard work is not always rewarded.
* Personality conflicts sometimes dictate who you continue to work for.
* Your perceived personality has nothing to do with your ability to do your job. This one requires some explanation. I was told by my former boss, in front of a group of colleagues, that I was one of the most unlikeable people he had ever met. At first I was stunned by that--no one has ever told me that before or since--but then I realized mind games were at work. And some people tend to project (remember Psychology 101?). In the words of Forrest Gump, that's all I'm going to say about that.
* Past employment problems--such as being fired--do not doom you to a life of unemployment. I found that out quickly--and that my "likeability" quotient is just fine, thank you--when I landed a new job within a week of being let go.
* Positive reinforcement is a good thing. I have been told how valuable I am, and how happy they are to have me at my new job, more times in the last three weeks than I heard in the last three years.

Which leads me to Friday night, March 8, which provided a fitting coda to my 25-year career at the Syracuse New Times (13 as the editor, and 12 as a freelancer). Along with longtime music journalist Mark Bialczak (whom I have known for 30 years, having interned on the Sports desk of the Syracuse Post Standard when he was assistant sports editor), I received a Founder's Award at the Syracuse Area Music Awards. We both felt sheepish about receiving such an honor, and it certainly had nothing to do with singing (on my part, anyway; can't speak for Mark's talent), but rather our years of service to the local music community. We both accepted graciously.

Me and my Sammy.

Ever nervous about speaking in public, my voice did quaver during my acceptance speech, but the words were heartfelt. My husband tells me the applause was rowdy, but I didn't hear a bit of it. After I left the stage, I high-tailed it to the bar, Sammy in hand, where I ordered a hard-earned glass of wine. There, perfect strangers congratulated me, others said they felt awful that I had lost my job at The New Times, one prominent local musician (whom I will not name) called the former boss a mofo (except she used the actual word), still others thanked me for my support of their child's band or of the music scene in general. I said thank you, naturally, but it was just part of my job--The New Times and local music have always gone hand-in-hand.

So when Sammy's founder Frank Malfitano decided I should be given a Sammy, in my heart I was grateful, but I also knew he was honoring my hard work over the last decade-plus. Sammys goddess Liz Nowak had to agree to the honor, and I am thankful that she did. There are some days I miss my job at the paper--there is a certain rush to seeing a looming deadline, and then taking it on before conquering it, only to see your hard work delivered the next day. I especially miss working with interns, trying to mold them into hard-working, conscientious reporters.

Awards are nice, and I've won my share, but more important to me over my career have been comments like those Jim Reith once said about me, on air, to his former radio audience: "Molly English is one of the most accurate journalists I know." Or Tim Fox's tear-inducing accolades when he introduced me before I took the stage--"She is one of the best writers in town." That's what I want for my now former interns--the respect of their peers and the community.

And so I have moved on. I am learning the ropes as Communications Director at Service Employees International Union Local 200United, a group that, in a strange coincidence, my sister helped organize way back in the 1980s. Many of you don't know this, but I served in a similar capacity at AFSCME for 10 years before I moved on to The New Times. They say some things are meant to be, that what goes around comes around, and as I have grown up, I'm starting to realize that is indeed the case. Karma works both ways, however (and you can read into that anything you like).

You all know where to find me--Facebook, Twitter, and right here on my blog. Race season is gearing up, and if you care to read about my running exploits, well this is the place to revisit.

Read This, Then Eat

2013-01-17T14:02:00.000-05:00

A vegetable lover, I had always thought that Brussels sprouts are miniature cabbages, so I avoided them. No amount of Polish heritage would convince me to like cabbage, so it followed that I would not like Brussels sprouts. It took prodding from a friend, a desire to eat more heathfully and a more adventurous spirit to try the tight little light green spheres. And, boy, am I glad I did!

My discovery of these little nuggets of delight coincided with the roasted vegetable craze, so my introduction to Brussels sprouts meant a sweeter, earthier, caramelized side dish. Eager to incorporate my newfound veggie buddy into a main dish, I searched for such, and found one that is light and hearty, tasty and healthy. (See accompanying recipe.)

As with many vegetables, we baby boomers were “treated” to overcooked, mushy, colorless versions of the real deal by our mothers, many of whom really had no idea how to cook. In my house, the idea was to get food on the table for seven people by 5:24 p.m., when my father walked in the door from work.

We were pretty much fed the basics in the English household, Route 5, Vernon: spaghetti and meatballs, pork chops and applesauce, meatloaf and mashed potatoes, and a culinary delight my mother called slop (brown ground beef, then add frozen corn, mix in ketchup, and voila!). Other than the usual garden bounty—my mother was a terrific gardener--I remember iceberg-lettuce wedges topped with French dressing, green beans out of the can and lots of frozen corn.

Not being critical here; my mother probably made the vegetables she hoped we kids would eat, and Brussels sprouts would not have been one of those.

Even though they look the part, sprouts are not small cabbages, although they are, like other cruciferous vegetables—broccoli and cauliflower—members of the cabbage family. They taste similar to cabbage, while also tasting slightly milder and denser in texture. Their origins are thought to be in 16th-century Belgium, hence the name “Brussels.”

But it doesn’t matter where the delightful little globes came from as long as they wind up in your mouth. You can cultivate your own Brussels sprouts—they grow on a long stalk—or you can just buy some at the grocery store or farmers market. In addition to selling them whole, in bulk, some groceries sell them already cleaned and cored, or even sliced into a chiffonade for quick preparation in the aforementioned accompanying recipe.


Brussels sprouts for sale at Syracuse's Regional Market.

When shopping, look for bright green sprouts and a tight, compact head. Yellow or wilted leaves are a sign of age. Select sprouts that are similar in size to allow them to cook more evenly. Only wash sprouts before preparing, not before storing; they’ll get mealy in a hurry.

Bob Langkammerer is the regional executive chef for Wegmans supermarkets in Syracuse. “We are selling more and more Brussels sprouts,” he says, “especially in prepared foods, and a lot has to do with how we flavor and season them, as well as their health benefits, which are phenomenal.” Among them:

High fiber content (more than 15 percent of daily requirement) that lowers cholesterol and aids digestion.

Antioxidants such as vitamins C, E and A, as well as manganese protect the body’s cells from intruding free radicals.

Anti-inflammatory agents like omega-3 fatty acids and vitamin K are abundant.

One cup of Brussels sprouts contains more than 161 percent of the daily requirement of vitamin C, more than 20 percent of vitamin A and almost 25 percent of folate, necessary for maintaining a healthy pregnancy.

He reports that he attended store openings in Maryland and Pennsylvania recently and those stores have vegetarian bars, similar to the Asian or homestyle self-service foods bars. As part of the grand openings, that bar served roasted Brussels sprouts. “And I got more bang for the buck sampling those,” he says. “People were heading right to the pan and digging out what was left.”

He believes the preparation method meant the difference to those shoppers. “Roasting brings out the caramelization in the Brussels sprouts, making them sweeter and giving them a nice, wholesome flavor. Just boiled or steamed, they really don’t taste the same as roasting.”

As with all produce, Langkammerer stresses that you thoroughly wash before preparing. You may have to core each sprout since the stem can be a bit fibrous and tough to chew and, depending on the size, you may need to cut each in half. “Toss with oil, sprinkle on a little salt and pepper, and roast in the oven. They taste great, and they’re very simple to prepare.”

Once you’ve mastered the basic roasted Brussels sprout, try these recipes for more variety.

Roasted Brussels Sprouts With Carrots and Parsnips

Recipe courtesy of Bob Langkammerer, regional chef for Wegmans Syracuse.

½ pound organic carrots, peeled and cut on the bias into bite-sized pieces

1 8-ounce package Brussels sprouts, washed and quartered

1½ pounds parsnips, peeled and cut on the bias into bite-sized pieces

1½ tablespoons basting oil

Salt and cracked black pepper to taste

3 tablespoons Wegmans savory finishing sauce (grocery department)

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Toss vegetables with basting oil in large bowl; season to taste with salt and pepper. Spread in single layer on baking sheet. Roast on center rack of oven, about 30 to 40 minutes, until tender. Toss with finishing sauce.

Creamy Brussels Sprouts and Noodles

This recipe is from Taste of Home magazine. It is categorized as a side dish, but there’s no reason this casserole can’t take the starring role at dinnertime. Serve with an orange vegetable and tossed salad, and you have a nice-looking plate.

1 pound fresh Brussels sprouts, quartered

2 medium onions, finely chopped

4 tablespoons butter or margarine, divided

1 cup sour cream (can be light)

1 cup small-curd cottage cheese (can be light)

1 clove garlic, minced

1 teaspoon paprika

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon caraway seeds (optional)

3 cups medium egg noodles, cooked and drained

½ cup soft bread crumbs

Place the Brussels sprouts and a small amount of water in a saucepan; cover and cook until tender. Meanwhile, in a skillet, saute onions in 2 tablespoons butter until golden brown. Remove from the heat; stir in the sour cream, cottage cheese, garlic, paprika, salt and caraway seeds. Drain sprouts; add to onion mixture with noodles. Spread into a greased shallow 2-quart baking dish. Melt remaining butter and toss with bread crumbs. Sprinkle over casserole. Bake, uncovered, at 375 degrees, for 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown.

Shaved Brussels Sprouts with Pancetta

Another Wegmans recipe; if you’re a vegetarian, feel free to omit the pancetta, an Italian bacon.

1 teaspoon olive oil

2 ounces diced pancetta (deli department)

¼ cup shallots, peeled and chopped

1 14-ounce package shaved Brussels sprouts (or shave your own with a mandolin)

¼ cup basting oil

Salt and pepper to taste

2 tablespoons Wegmans apple vinegar spritzer (grocery department)

Add olive oil and pancetta to large skillet; cook on medium about 5 minutes, until pancetta begins to render fat but is not browned. Add shallots, Brussels sprouts and basting oil. Season with salt and pepper. Cook, stirring, on medium, 8 to 10 minutes until vegetables are nearly softened but not browned. Remove from heat. Add apple vinegar spritzer, toss and serve.

Feet First

2012-12-27T14:29:00.001-05:00

In less than three weeks I will endure yet another surgery on my foot, the left again. For a variety of reasons, the right foot needed immediate attention back in 2010, so I put off the same bunion surgery on the left until 2011. As the swelling in that foot eventually abated, it became clear that the metal plate the podiatrist inserted to fuse two large tarsal bones together was problematic. I don't feel anything when I'm walking, but running is another matter entirely.

What I feel when I run isn't pain, but it is discomfort, and often it radiates from the point of contact on top of the foot to my arch. It hasn't been enough of an issue that I have stopped running, but it isn't an ideal situation either. And so, the doctor and I decided it would be best to remove the plate entirely, which is happening in a 10-minute procedure on Tuesday, Jan. 15.

My left foot, plate and screws obvious.

I suppose there is no good time for a runner to be laid up, but in Central New York in winter, it's a safe bet that any outdoor running won't exactly reap much benefit. My first question to him was, naturally, "What's the recovery time?" One month. I can swim after two weeks, and should be able to practice yoga and at least lift weights for the upper body and keep working my core soon after the surgery.

He doesn't want the incision getting wet and, as for the running, the four tiny screws holding that plate in place (though they don't look tiny in the X-rays at left) will leave four tiny holes in my bones. "If it were anyone else," he advised, "I wouldn't worry about it, but you put an awful lot of stress on your feet."

Ha! You have no idea, doc; no idea.

And so I am averaging 25 miles a week leading up to the fateful day, and wishing I could bottle my fitness so when it's time to venture forth again in February, I just uncork and go! Once again, early-winter races will be pushed aside until 2014, but I've already registered for the Buffalo Half Marathon on May 26, and the Keuka Lake Sprint Triathlon on June 2, so I'm looking at substantial goals to train for. Not sure if the 10-mile, May 5 Mountain Goat is possibile; I'll wait and see.

Let's hope this is the end of the podiatry saga that has consumed my life these last three years. But as I tell anyone who asks, don't put off bunion surgery--I did until serious damage was done to my feet--the second toe on my right foot, the one that was dislocated by the big toe the bunion had pushed into it--will never recover; I just tolerate the issues, and endure an occasional cortisone shot.

And as for those who tell me to stop running--be gone! My PR days are likely behind me, but that doesn't mean my running days have passed me by. It's still fun to compete (and I do OK in my age group), and that's what's important.

A Five and Dime

2012-11-12T10:51:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, I attempted something I never have before, and I'm not certain I ever will again. While I have been tempted to do this for years, something always held me back. I registered to run back-to-back races, a 5K at 9 a.m. with a 10K to follow at 10.

The Burn Run, which benefits the Clark Burn Center at Syracuse's Upstate University Hospital, is in its sixth year. This year they decided to add a 10K, which made me very happy; so, I originally signed up for that. Then, they offered a $10 discount to any member of the Lake Effect Run Club--what the heck, I thought; it's for a good cause and I can do something I never have done in 30 years of racing--the back-to-back thing.

Yeah, baby! (Charlie Bowers Photo)

Now, I certainly have raced plenty of 15Ks, but that's meant 80 minutes or so of continual running, finding your groove and then maintaining it. By splitting it up into two different races, with a 30-minute gap in between, I had no idea how my legs would react. I wasn't quite sure what to do in the time between finishing the 5K and then starting the 10K, either, but I sure knew what not to do--sit down, eat or drink too much, or head outside where it was sunny but a little chilly. I didn't want to stiffen up, risk a cramp or get cold. So I paced, stretched and tried to stay loose.

I ventured out once, to check the 5K results, and was happy to see I had placed first in my age group (yippee!), with a best-of-2012 time of 26:04. Then I made my way to the starting line. The first few miles I felt a little stiff, and my legs were not happy. They weren't sore, exactly, and not tired, but had a dullness to them--tough to describe. But by mile 3, my inner runner kicked in and I was able to maintain a decent pace until about mile 4.5. The fact that a woman, who appeared to be in my age group, passed me then didn't help. I tried to draft on her for a bit, but she lost me. (Turns out she finished third in the 50-54 age group, so my sense about her age was accurate.)

I successfully passed one person before the race finish, but she got me back in the chute--dang. Still, my finish time, 57:17, is leagues better than the last 10K I ran, in an hour. So I am making progress toward regaining my form (I know the weekly track work has a lot to do with that).

While running the 10K so soon after the 5K, I had an epiphany that only such proximity could have rendered. Bear with me here, because it's gonna sound gripey, but here we go. Remember that I have children, that I love it when children run and are active. BUT, what is it about kids--especially boys--running races--especially 5Ks? I always know there is a kid approaching by the flap-flap-flap of his shoes hitting the pavement. Hope he learns some running form soon, or he won't have any arches left!

And then there's the kid(s) who sprint to pass you, and then either stop to walk or slow down considerably right in front of you. And they'll do that for all 3 miles--it's maddening!!!! I am always so happy when I leave those kids in the dust, and finish the race ahead of them.

So back to my rant--parents, it's great that you entered your child to run the race. But please, just like in real life, teach them some etiquette. When they slow down or stop, make sure they know to get to the shoulder of the road as soon as possible.

Rant over; thank you for listening.

So, with the combined races, I actually ran this "15K" a full five minutes faster than the most recent race of the same distance. Racing back-to-back was different, but I'm not sure it's for me. . .until the next time I see one on a race calendar.