Fave Team: Irongrandma & Granddaughter. Love them. Loved the shot of Irongrandma lifting weights.

Least Fave Team: Can I say “everyone else”?

Seriously, Sunday night’s season premiere was one of the dullest I’ve ever seen.  What’s worse, TAR has gone the way of the Real World and added All Types of People as stock teams.  No average Joes or Janes anymore. We have the Gay Brother, the Lesbian Partners, the African-American attorneys/”mompreneurs” (GAG), the Cowboys with Hats…blah, blah, blah…yawn.  The show lost me halfway to LAX…along with more than a few of the teams.

Yesterday I said to Capt. UberHusband…”We missed who got sent home on The Amazing Race last night, didn’t we?” Turns out…we didn’t, the ending was just that utterly forgettable.  Sad. What kind of lame-ass team can’t even finish the first challenge?

In a similar vein, since Ali decided her Facebook job had more long-term potential than a relationship with Jake, I was stuck watching fantasy dates last night on The Bachelor which made my stomach churn ‘n turn.

Gia: Jake, if you like the fact that she always seems to be decked out in $700 shoes, wait until you’re trying to support that habit on your $28,000/year pilot’s salary OR you’re hit up to help pay off what is likely massive credit card death…oops, I mean debt.  What was that old Carrie Bradshaw line…”I was literally the old woman who lived in her shoes”.

Vienna: Crazy eyes. Cross-eyed eyes. Clearly Jake doesn’t watch How I Met Your Mother.

Tenley: Young. Divorced. Bordering on desperate to show she can “still love” after divorce. Of course you can. You’re only 25.

Really, Jake?  You’re the only Bachelor I haven’t thought was a complete douchebag by the end of the season (at least, not yet)…but you have lousy taste when it comes to women. No wonder you’re still single.  Good grief.  I don’t like any of the women left. I don’t seem to like anyone lately. Am I getting cranky and grumpy in my old age?

Nah…I still adore everyone on Big Love. So you see, TV shows, it’s not me…it’s very much you.

But, the resort was beautiful.  Have you seen it’s Bachelor Proposal Package?  There’s an additional upgrade you can get, but you have to call the resort directly…for $399 you can get an alternate girl in case yours says no.

In other news, still hobbling on the cane…albeit with less pain now than last week. Not sure if that’s due to the increased amount of time I’ve spent firmly planted on my ass (yay for husbands being home!), or the Tylenol I’ve been popping like candy to nip a rather annoying earache in the bud…either way, less pain = less complainy Stacy. That’s good for all of us.

Now, had Facebook told me that if I deactivated my account six inches of snow would fall in the DFW metroplex the next day…then I might have taken heed.

BTW…still hobbling around. More pain this week than last, which is weird. Trying to deal with my lack of mobility…it’s hard, and I don’t always succeed with the grace (“grace” being a relative term right now) and humor I’d like. Working on it, though.

In terms of running…I won’t be able to even think about running for another three months. Isn’t that crazy? I just started running eight months ago, and here I am…almost four weeks since my last run with another 3 months ahead of me. But, I’m more interested now in being able to walk unassisted at more than a snail’s pace!

I found a couple of personal blogs that mentioned this particular malady, so I’ll provide my presenting symptoms for anyone who happens upon this post as well:

• Running approximately 10-13 miles/week, began in May of ‘09.  Began increasing my weekly mileage in November of ‘09, but in very small increments (~ 1 mile/week).
• Pain began 12/21/09 after a 3-mile run. Felt like a groin pull on both legs. Uncomfortable, but I could walk.
• Waited for groin pain to subside, went out and ran again on 12/28 ~ 4 miles, no groin pain until post-run, after I’d cooled down. More uncomfortable than painful, slowed down my walking but wasn’t significant.
• Ran on 1/1, 1/2, 1/4 – slight pain before the run, greater pain post-run. Little pain actually during the run after I’d warmed up.
• 1/6 ~ ran 4 miles, a couple hours after I’d finished the groin pain was so bad that I couldn’t walk. Haven’t been able to walk at a normal pace since.
• Tried ice, heat, NSAIDs, topical pain creams, and yoga stretching to try to loosen the muscles up. No dice.
• About 10 days ago, the pain got so bad after about an hour of walking (I was in NYC) that I couldn’t walk at all. Excruciating pain when putting any pressure on the left leg.
• Pain no longer confined to the groin area, also now pain in left lower back, hip, and thigh. Putting any weight on the left leg sends shooting pains up my pelvic area and underneath my buttocks. Also pain along the crease of my leg/torso.
• Started walking with a cane this past Monday (1/25) so I could at least get around.  After staying off it for awhile (at least a couple of hours), I can get up and walk slowly for about ten steps before the shooting pain begins again.
• Over the last week, it has become painful to lay on my left side. Uncomfortable to lay on my back or left side, but not painful

My first visit to an ortho for this issue was a disaster.  It was a doctor I’d seen before for other issues, and he completely blew off all my symptoms and recommended physical therapy. I *knew* when I went in to see him that this wasn’t an issue of tight hip flexors, or my IT band, or my SI joint.  I had read enough horror stories of people who had my exact symptoms and were misdiagnosed and mistreated for weeks, and even months.

I had to literally, beg him to do an MRI order. He said we could do one, but it would probably be negative, and then we’d be back to PT. When I asked him what the diagnosis was, he said he didn’t know. “Vague symptoms give you a vague diagnosis.”  As you can see from my list above, my symptoms were anything but vague. Plus, how on Earth could he recommend a PT treatment plan without a diagnosis?  Yeah, I was annoyed.

I did get an MRI order from him (and he brusquely left the exam room, med student in tow, without even saying goodbye), but came home and instead went looking for another doctor.  I’m sorry, but that was a total bullshit treatment by my now-former doctor, and I didn’t trust him at all.  He ran off so fast he didn’t even see that it took a full three minutes for me to hobble to the end of the hallway to check out.  Asshole.

So…last Friday I went to a new ortho, a sports medicine specialist. The visit went well.  I even brought CU with to make sure my medical interests were being served. I had some x-rays done, which were kinda-sorta inconclusive…but he did say he was a bit concerned about my pelvic area. Sure enough, when he examined the abdominal area I had a good deal of tenderness…and then he recommended an MRI to either rule in or rule out a stress fracture.

When I went in, I figured it was a hip stress fracture.  I’m glad it’s not, because that’s much more dangerous and from what I understand, has the potential to have a significantly longer rehab period.

And so, there we have it. No half-marathons for me anytime soon. I’m now hoping to run White Rock in December. For now though, I’d be content just being able to walk to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

I’m trying to stay positive, though. It’s difficult. I’m used to being mobile and self-sufficient, and this is a serious dent in my lifestyle. But, when my doctor looked me in the eye and said, “Stacy, you will run again”, I knew that I’d be okay giving up a few months for the greater reward.

I’ll keep ya’ll updated!

I’ve been looking for a link to the article, because it literally almost brought me to tears. Sure, he’s been running 17 years longer than me…BUT, this has not been an easy road so far for me. First off, I started running just as the Texas heat was rearing its ugly head. I was slow…very slow. I was 37 and probably a good 20 lbs. overweight. I twisted my ankle four weeks into the Couch to 5K program, which sidelined me for a month.  I couldn’t find the right shoes to handle my over-pronation and flat feet, and what I thought were the “right” shoes wound up giving me problems elsewhere; i.e., shin and ancillary leg pain. I experienced the return of exercise-induced asthma, something I thought I’d sloughed off 15 years ago.

But, I also ran four 5Ks.  My doctor introduced me to this miracle drug (LOL) called Symbicort, which allowed me to run four consecutive miles last month.  I made it a third of the way through the training program for my first half-marathon (which included a long run of six miles) before my left hip began giving me significant problems.  At first I thought it was a bad groin pull, but now I know that isn’t it. Now I’m trying to find a doctor I trust, one that will help me to diagnose why I can’t walk without a cane at this point. I have an appointment on Friday, and hopefully that will set me on the road to recovery…whatever the prognosis.

So after all of this…and after having my hopes raised and dashed about a half-dozen times over the last eight months, John Bingham’s words were both encouraging and bittersweet. I’m at a weird crossroads in my fledgling running career, where I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to run again…much less break that elusive 11:00 min/mile marker.  I’m not exaggerating when I say that as soon as I overcome something that seems to be The Reason why I’m having problems running…something else takes its place. It’s frustrating as Hell.

Since I can’t find the article online, I’m retyping it and posting it here. I think every runner who’s wanted to just pack it in should read it, as should anyone else who has ever just wanted to give up on something…even though you know the overall rewards will always outweigh the penalties (real or perceived).

I ripped the page out of the magazine, folded it up, and am carrying it around with me. I’m not done, yet. As I’ve said before…I’m slow, and I don’t care. I enjoy running, and want to be able to do it for the long haul.  If I have to start back over in two months walking five minutes and then running for a minute…rinsing and repeating, that’s what I’ll do.

On the Road Again

As my eighteenth year as a runner comes to a close, I find myself reflecting back on what I’m most proud of.  Given that I’ve spent my running career in the back of the pack, you might not think there’s much to brag about. But there is.  I placed second in my age group once, at a small duathlon in Indiana. Never mind there were only two competitors in my age group and the first place guy finished an hour ahead of me – a trophy is a trophy.

I’m also proud I’ve completed 43 of 45 marathons I’ve started. Not a bad finishing percentage. I walked off the course in Huntsville, Alabama, because it was cold and windy and with nine miles to go, I just didn’t have the heart to finish. And I limped off the course at mile 20 in Tucson after it became clear my IT band was not going to cooperate for those last six.

I’ve set PRs along the way. A 4:35 marathon in Dallas. A 1:51 half in Nashville. A 24-minute 5K in Kentucky. As special as those were, it’s not the PRs or awards that make me most proud. I take the greatest pride in the fact that I’ve kept coming back to running even when it would’ve been easier to give it up.  And for someone like me with limited talent, there have been lots of opportunities to quit.

I could have quit before I got the third cortisone shot in my hip, or the second in my knee.  I could have told myself I just didn’t have a runner’s body, or that it was too late for someone like me to become a runner. I could have. But I didn’t.

Every time I had to start over (which was always because I pushed too far or too fast), I started over. I’d open up a blank page in my log and begin from scratch.

I knew, at some level, that running was both creating my life and saving it.  After 25 years of smoking, drinking, and eating more than my share, I realized that running was the only path that would lead to a new and better me. and I never wanted to stray from that path again.

Eventually, though, I realized the cycle of starting over, training hard, getting injured, recovering, and beginning again couldn’t last forever.  I feared there would come a time when I couldn’t start over. I had to recognize that while running was a healthy activity, my obsession with it was just as unhealthy as every other obsession had been. It wasn’t as obvious as smoking, or abusing drugs or alcohol, but the damage I was doing to myself by not listening to my body was similar.

The great lesson that I learned from running – because I wanted to run for the rest of my life – was that I had to accept the limits of my body. I had to adjust my goals to match the reality of my abilities. I had to understand that if I wanted to run forever, I might have to not run today. Taking a day, a week, or a month off, if necessary, might be hard, but it wouldn’t mean giving up.

For someone who has quit jobs, left relationships, forgotten dreams, and often quit when the going got tough, running has been the exception. I haven’t quit. I’m not going to quit, even if I take a break. And in that I take enormous pride.

Waddle on, friends.

Written by John Bingham, originally printed in the January 2010 issue of Runner’s World

The pond at the entrance to our neighborhood…half of it froze over! I liked the reflections, and although it isn’t the greatest photo technically…I still think it’s pretty. Plus, it’s rather symbolic of what the last week has been like around here.

Killer schnoozer…or yawning schnoozer?

Current knitting project ~ afghan with supa-ginormous needles.

In a nutshell, he talks about his for-naught efforts at one Atlanta eatery on New Year’s Eve to transform it from Amateur Night to, well, Not Amateur Night. Suffice it to say his efforts failed as no one appreciated his inventive menu, his progressive service attitude, or anything else.  People wanted to watch the game.  No one wanted to eat caviar. Why?  Because folks who go out to dinner on holidays such as Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day, New Year’s Eve, etc. are amateurs. They don’t “get it”.

Amateur night could be any Friday or Saturday night, when people who don’t usually dine out head out on the town to blow a paycheck. But the serious amateur nights are New Year’s Eve, Valentines Day, and Mother’s Day brunch. These are reserved for that special brand of customer, many of whom haven’t ventured into a restaurant since the previous holiday. It’s a night that shiesty restaurateurs gouge prices. A night when guests ask for ketchup with their aged rib eye. And also a night when burned out chefs retreat into ubiquitous schlock, and overly ambitious young chefs mistakenly puff their chests out…

At this point, you’re probably thinking I’m about to start in on a rant about how I most certainly am not an amateur and how dare that Richard Blais and his third-place finish judge me! Quite the contrary. I agree with the guy.

One of the most horrific meals Capt. UberHusband and I ever had was on Mother’s Day at Chamberlain’s Steak and Chop House in Dallas.  We were there with my mom and it had to have been…probably 2001. It was before she moved away from Dallas.  The term douchebag wasn’t in vogue at that time, but our server was one. He was detached, displaced, pissed off, and wanted nothing more than to be anywhere else other than that restaurant. Not surprisingly, his mood shifted when he presented the check to Capt. UberHusband and he was all help and smiles. Not surprisingly, we didn’t leave the schmuck a tip.  We went back for one more punishing Valentine’s Day dinner before forever also swearing off dining in restaurants on February 14

More recently…like, last week…we went to Roy’s for New Year’s Eve. This was our third NYE at Roy’s.  Previously we’d been to Chamberlain’s (clearly we never learn) which was passable, but while CU was in Iraq I’d developed a rapport with a specific server (Tye! Where are you?) at Roy’s and he became our go-to guy.  This past year though, he unceremoniously left the restaurant.  A fellow server told us he’d gone to Loft 610 but when we called to make reservations and requested him, we were told he wasn’t there anymore, either.

That’s fine…going forward at Roy’s we went with our #2 choice…Viktor. We had one meal with him a few months ago, and it was delightful. Viktor, like Tye, had been at Roy’s forever and we liked his serving style…we’d seen him in action many times.  At the beginning of December I called Roy’s to make reservations for New Year’s Eve. The guy I talked to told me they hadn’t released the menu yet, and he didn’t know if he could make reservations. I told him I’d gotten an email with the menu…so he probably could take my reservation. Sigh.  I specifically requested Viktor be our server, and also mentioned this was our third New Year’s Eve at Roy’s.  No problem, no problem, can’t wait to see you on New Year’s Eve, blah blah blah.

When we arrived for our reservation, the hostess told us that Viktor’s section was full and did we have another server we liked?  Well yes, we had Tye…but ya’ll did something to run him off. We don’t have a third-stringer…like the University of  Texas, we didn’t expect we’d need one.

The hostess giggled and said Viktor was just soooooo popular that they had to assign tables in order of who made reservations first.  Hmm. I kind of got the impression I was one of the first to reserve, based on my clunky conversation earlier in the month. Was I pissy?  Yeah, I kind of was. I was annoyed. We were told Jordan would take care of us, and that “Jordan was very good”. Well, swell…?

We got someone named David instead and…the crux of this post (I know, short story long…) is we did feel as though we were treated like Amateurs. David wasn’t a very experienced server (or if he was, he just wasn’t very good), and he hovered. He wasn’t blatantly obtrusive, but every time I looked up he was walking past and scanning our table. In David’s defense, we were flanked on either side by Amateurs: to our left was a couple who asked for the “house Merlot” and a woman at the six-top to our right rather loudly commandeered one of the back-waiters to take her…wait for it…expresso order.

Have I gotten to the food yet?  Roy’s does a great job with appetizers. On NYE I had a wonderful poke (similar to, but different than the standard Roy’s poketini) with plantain chips, and CU had mussels in an Asian lemongrass broth. Our soup and salad course was also very good, as was the dessert.

But Roy’s entrees…oy, the entrees. We aren’t big fans of them. They’re usually under-salted and honestly, rather boring. What nearly ruined our meal was the fact that the blender must have been the only working appliance in the kitchen that night.  I ordered the scallops, which were supposed to come with “smoked bacon jalapeno grits and a roasted yellow tomato cream sauce”.  Sweet, I’m thinking, sexy “shrimp ‘n grits”! No. The grits were completely pureed to the consistency of baby food.

I hate to go all foodie, but the mouthfeel left quite a bit to be desired. An actual “grits” texture would have been the perfect complement/offset to the silkiness of the scallops.  At least the bacon wasn’t pureed. Oh no, there were nice big, imposing chunks of that on my gritless baby food. At least CU’s entree actually used the word “puree” after “butternut squash” in the description. No confusion there.

I do remember at one point during the meal when we were complaining about the pacing of the dishes, the fact that I was advised my entree “plate was hot” (BIG no-no), and the inability of the chef to come up with a few knock-em-dead dishes instead of the same ten standard entree selections, we wondered aloud if the restaurant wasn’t dumbing itself down for the New Year’s crowd.

Richard Blais’s article got me thinking about that again.  Are we automatically Amateurs if we like to get dressed up and go out on New Year’s Eve? We don’t have friends who have parties, and frankly we like to get out of the house and be around others. Or, are we just varying degrees of Amateur based on the average per-person price for the meal?  Michelin isn’t throwing any stars in Roy’s direction, but it wasn’t a cheap meal. We expected more. In retrospect, I’m not sure why. Maybe wistful memories of yesteryear are clouding our judgment.

It’s now apparent to us that what kept (keeps? the correct tense is sort of undecided right now) us going to Roy’s wasn’t the food, but the service. To everything turn, turn, turn…I guess.

We did decide…no more going out to restaurants on New Year’s Eve. I may not be Gael Green, but I’m also not some bumpkin from the backwoods. At the risk of sounding like one of those unbearably annoying TripAdvisor reviews, we’ve been to some damn fine restaurants in the last ten years.  Hell, we have reservations at Le Bernardin for our anniversary in two weeks.

Fine dining does not frighten me. Shitty dining does.

Day 7 – Project 365

Originally uploaded by snarkwife

After this morning’s roast chicken success (merci, Julia Child), I decided to take the fruits of my efforts and add them to this Chicken Tamale Casserole. I’ve been looking for new, lower-fat “Wintertime” dishes and this one was pretty good.

The only “complaints” at the recipe’s site were that the corn muffin mix is a little on the sweet side (I used Jiffy too…it was all Target had in that size), and it is. But…I didn’t really mind. I’m used to more savory Mexican dishes and the sweetness was a nice change of pace.

I also added chopped olives, but I don’t think they really added anything special or distinctive to the recipe. Will likely skip those next time.

All in all, thumbs up!

Clearly I’m not a food blogger…not yet. Maybe I should change my name to Julie.