2017 Reflection.

At the close of 2016, I resolved to write more. I promised I would submit at least one piece of writing for publication. Instead of doing either of those things, I stopped writing for pleasure all together. I've written plenty of occupational therapy evaluation reports, IEPs and progress notes. I've written research papers for class, grocery lists and workout plans and a grant proposal. But midway through the year, just as I began to move beyond my self pity cycle of injury and feel physically like my strong self again, without ever making a conscious decision, I simply abandoned my blog.

So why did I stop writing? Looking back, I recognize that I developed doubts about the identity and purpose of my blog. I lacked clarity about who I was writing for and what I hoped to gain from writing. Big, pressing, weighty issues in our country and world made me start to feel like my writing was trivial and self centered. I wasn't using my blog to make a difference. I wasn't sharing expertise or developing my professional network. I didn't have a product to market or incentive to monetize. I didn't feel like what I had to say was all that important these days. So what was the point?

Last week I was out on a cold, windy run along the Charles River when unexpected feelings started working their way up to my throat and then tumbling over in my mind. I thought about my defunct blog. I asked myself whether I missed writing and what, if anything, I had gotten or wanted to get out of the creative process. I felt strongly that this was an endeavor I wish to continue.

It's really difficult to pick things back up after a hiatus. There's an undeniable gap in the narrative documentary of this space that isn't easy to go back and fill in. And so, in the spirit of reflection that permeates the close of a calendar year, I am looking back on 2017 with the intent of moving forward into 2018.

Here's a glimpse at life in 2017:

At the beginning of the year, I struggled with a herniated disc, sciatic nerve pain and a blown out IT band. 

I moved through recovery and learned lessons from my experience with physical injury, like how to shift my passion to support others and how to persistently advocate for myself to get the help I needed to heal.

I took my first ever summer away from my occupational therapy career and picked up a gig hauling produce, recycling and compost by bike. Spoiler alert: I sucked at it.

I bought a new bike, signed up for swimming lessons, and completed my first triathlon in July. 

I traveled to Copenhagen, London, and Ireland with my loved ones.

I made my debut as a race organizer with the inaugural Parlor Sports Classic, raising funds for the Quell Foundation through the Falmouth Road Race.

I committed to a vegan lifestyle, eventually even giving up dairy ice cream. Thank goodness for FoMu. 

I joined the Heartbreakers Running Club and fell deeply in love with coached track workouts.

I started a new school year and invested my professional efforts into supporting social emotional learning for my students and developing my cultural competency as an educator.

I ran 5 half marathons in 3 different states (VT, MA, NH) and 1 foreign country (Ireland).

I was officially accepted into the Boston Marathon (!!)

I set new PRs in the Half Marathon and 5K.

And now, as 2017 comes to a close and I set my focus on the year ahead, I can genuinely admit:

I am documenting and reflecting on a part of my life that I value and that brings me joy. I am putting it in public space, which is kind of a weird idea, but the process is for me. It doesn't have to be big and important and world changing. 

I am writing this blog for myself. 

Race Recap: Red Fire Farm Tomato Trot 2015

I have fulfilled a lifelong goal. I have been awarded food as a prize for running at a modestly quick pace in a race. The dream was realized at Red Fire Farm in Granby, MA on Sunday, August 23rd during their annual "Tomato Trot 5K" cross country race through the farm fields.

Chris and I are CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) members at Red Fire Farm. In case you're not familiar with the concept of CSA, a brief explanation: It's a partnership between families and farmers. We invest a small sum to "buy into" the farm at the beginning of the growing season in exchange for a weekly share of the farm's harvest. Every Thursday, Red Fire delivers a whole bunch of produce to Union Square and we stop by to pick up our share of vegetables. We really enjoy supporting this wonderful organic farm and the bounty of vegetables we receive each week is, often times, overwhelming. We don't always know exactly what we're going to get. The contents of the share depend on how things are growing in a particular season and what the farmers were able to harvest. There's a ton of variety week to week. I've learned to cook vegetables I had never heard of before joining a CSA. I still haven't figured out an appetizing preparation for kohlrabi, though. If any of you have suggestions, I'm all ears!

Each year near the end of August, Red Fire Farm hosts a Tomato Festival. The day-long event includes tasting 100+ varieties of heirloom, cherry, slicing and saucing tomatoes, cooking demonstrations and workshops, local food trucks, craft vendors, musical performances, and THE TOMATO TROT, a spirited 5K-ish race through the farm fields.

From start to finish, the 14th annual Tomato Festival was an incredible community event.

We arrived early at the farm, parked nearby, confirmed our registration and retrieved race bibs from a small tent in front of the farm, then followed the arrows on a hand drawn map to the starting line "up the street a ways". At first, it was difficult to identify where the race would start. A few runners trotted up and down the hill to warm up and stretch out, and others milled around a patch of hay we identified as the most likely start line.

Eventually, the two race coordinators, who introduced themselves by stating, "Our only distinction is that we are the fathers of the farmers," ran through the logistics while the small group of us crowded around. Because there had been heavy rain the previous day, these men had stayed up late into the night to make sure the paths were cleared and well marked with spray-painted arrows.

Never before have I competed in a race where "On your mark, get set, GO!" was immediately preceded by a poetry reading. I may have wiped a bit of dust from my eye as the men recited this passage from Robert Frost's The Tuft of Flowers:

I went to turn the grass once after one
Who mowed it in the dew before the sun.

The dew was gone that made his blade so keen
Before I came to view the levelled scene.

I looked for him behind an isle of trees;
I listened for his whetstone on the breeze.

But he had gone his way, the grass all mown,
And I must be, as he had been, --alone,

As all must be,' I said within my heart,
Whether they work together or apart.'

And we were off. Here's Becca, most cheerful runner in all the land!

The first half mile of the course required cautious steps. Red spray paint marked a number of hazardous small dips and divots in the terrain. We turned a corner, and as I grew more comfortable with my footing, I was able to lift my gaze to take in the beauty of the farm. We ran through corn. We ran past flowers. We looped around melons. The mile markers weren't distinguished in any way, but the path was easy to follow and clearly marked with arrows. The field of runners was quite small (fewer than 160, I think,) and there were stretches of the course where, flanked on both sides with corn, I could see no one ahead of or behind me. I felt pleasantly alone with my feet and my breath in the fields.

Shortly after what I estimated was the 2 mile mark, I spotted a photographer as I came around the corner. Runners briefly entered the street and looped around to the front entrance of the farm, where a small, but energetic crowd cheered us down the drive, around a field, past a patch of flowers, and through a tractor-lined finish chute. A table of watermelon slices awaited us at the finish line.

There was a small clock near the finish line, but I didn't catch a glimpse of it and no official time was kept. As I crossed the finish line, someone told me, "I think you're the third woman." I feel no shame in admitting that I love to run small races because there is a far greater likelihood of finishing near the front of the pack. No shame.

I caught my breath and cheered in Ciara and Becca as they raced one another to a photo finish. It was a tie.

We snapped a finish line flower photo together and I awaited the award ceremony wondering whether I really had come in third place.

I grinned as I was awarded a melon and a farm market gift card.

We stuffed our faces with wood-fired pizza, grilled corn, ice cream, and tomatoes. So many tomatoes!

...and spent the rest of the afternoon listening to music, exploring the farm and enjoying the Vegetable Freak Show.

I promptly made use of my winnings and brought home this excellent bounty!

Thank you, Red Fire Farm, for putting on a fun and beautiful little race. I'll be back next year.

For the record, the tiny watermelon tasted like late summer candy. Please don't end, summer!

*DISCLAIMER: A handful of these photos are lifted from the Red Fire Farm Facebook page. I am grateful for them and hope they do not mind my theft!

My first 22-miler is officially in the books.

It's difficult for me to fathom that in two weeks, I'll be running my first marathon.

On the morning of May 2nd, I ran the longest training run of my life. A 22-miler. Only five training runs stand between me and the starting line of the Vermont City Marathon.

After fourteen weeks spent trudging through shin-deep snow, staring at a concrete wall while ticking off treadmill miles when there was too much snow to attempt trudging, rearranging my schedule to make dates with the track, cursing at the track while frigid wind whipped me in the face, and pushing myself to run paces and distances I once thought impossible, I feel like I've built enough mental toughness to will myself across the finish line if it means I am crawling on my hands and knees.

The strange thing is, not once in this training cycle have I felt the urge to give up. In fact, in spite of marathon training consuming my life and testing the patience of my incredibly supportive husband, it has all gone alarmingly well. I have not missed one training run. On rare occasions I've struggled to maintain a pace or felt frustrated with a particular run, but on the whole each run has made me feel strong and confident. I've been so conditioned by hearing marathon training horror stories about pain and injury and "hitting the wall", I just kept expecting that at some point the wheels would come off. I awaited the inevitable terrible long run that would make me doubt my ability to take on this big challenge. But that moment hasn't come.

When people ask how marathon training is going and I reply, "It's awesome.", I almost feel like something is wrong with me for feeling so positively confident. Like they're expecting me to tell them how terrible and grueling it is. The truth is, while it's certainly been hard...it's also been fun. That's right. I just wrote that marathon training has been fun.

Last Saturday morning when I set out for 22 miles, my aim was to run at my planned marathon pace. The training plan I'm following called for me to run 30 seconds-per-mile slower than planned marathon pace, but I know that "dress rehearsals" work really well for my mental game, so I wanted to make this feel as much like the real marathon as possible. I wore the sports bra and socks I plan to wear on race day. I carried the handheld water bottle filled with an electrolyte drink and packed the same fuel I plan to eat on race day. I arranged the playlist I plan to listen to on race day.

I jogged out from my apartment in Cambridge and followed the Boston Marathon course out and back. It was cool and crisp and partly sunny and a little breezy and perfectly beautiful. (May I please have the same weather on race day?) I knew the marathon course would be straightforward to follow because there are few turns and that the carriage road along Commonwealth Avenue would be wide and open with few stoplights. I also knew that I would hit Heartbreak Hill at mile 15 of my training run, which is the exact point in the Vermont City Marathon where there is a big, challenging hill. Like I said, dress rehearsals work for me.

And I survived. And I had fun. 

There was this one moment, just after I'd made my turnaround at the overpass for Route 95, where a tiny seed of self-doubt planted panic in the pit of my stomach. I suddenly felt so far from home, and very quickly the pit convinced my brain that my legs hurt and I'd be sick and, this was too fast, and, Oh Shit, what would it mean if I needed to walk? I was at mile 13. I shook my head and took a deep breath and told The Blerch to shut up. I had run 13 miles nearly a dozen times at paces faster than this, and I'd been just fine. Within two minutes, the wave of panicked insecurity passed. I felt great for the rest of my run.

My body shifted to autopilot around mile 20, and I had to make a very conscious effort to remember to look both ways before crossing busy intersections. This is kind of an important thing to do in downtown Boston. It was though my legs were willing me home, and somehow I managed to pick up the pace so that my last mile was my fastest. I arrived home with a film of salt dried on my cheeks and a grin plastered across my face.

The aftermath of the first-ever 22-miler:

Now there's not much work left to be done. My job now is to trust my training. I am ready. Let's do this.

16 miles + A Post Run Recovery Smoothie Recipe

Folks, we have officially entered uncharted territory. Before (foolishly?) deciding to sign up for my first marathon, the farthest I had ever run was 14 miles. Now, 8 weeks into marathon training, I have just officially completed my first 16 miler.

16.38 miles at 8:05 minutes per mile, to be exact. And it wouldn't be a long run without some snow, so we had a bit of that. I elected to follow the marathon route for a good stretch of my run, both so that I could get some practice with mid-run hills and because I knew that this morning loads of Boston Marathoners would be out getting in the Last Long Run before the race. It was incredibly energizing to be surrounded (at 7 am on a Saturday in the March snow) by hundreds of other runners. As I gritted my teeth and pumped my legs up Heartbreak Hill, a pair of runners shouted across the street, "You got this!"

Thanks, running guys. That really made me feel good.

I was inexact in my route plan mileage calculation, so when I hit 16 miles I was still a half mile from home. At first, I kept running (hence the .38). And then, I had this moment:

So I walked the rest of the way home.

Recovery after a long run is a serious deal to me.
In this morning's case, recovery = Legs up the wall. Ice on the foot. International soccer on TV. Bagelsuarus and carrot turmeric protein smoothie in my belly.

Duncan joined me for a bit of relaxing.

If you are a) puzzled by or b) scoffing at my "carrot turmeric protein smoothie", I take no offense to your skepticism. I am not a nutritionist, nor will I claim to have conducted exhaustive research on efficacy of various recovery foods/drinks/supplements.

I do know that turmeric has long been used in Ayudervic and Chinese medicines to treat pain (among other ailments). And that many papers have been written about the anti-inflammatory properties of curcumin, a component in the turmeric root.

I did not arrive at the decision to add a protein supplement to my diet overnight, and I will not suggest that it is the right choice for anyone but myself. If you want to know more about how and why I came to start adding protein powder (or to tell me reasons why I shouldn't take a supplement) feel free to ask me about it. For today, I'll just share that I do take a protein powder as part of my post-workout nutrition. After testing out many types and brands of both plant-based and whey protein sources, I've landed on Vega Sport Performance Protein. Of those I've experimented with, it has by far the best taste and texture and I like that it's a multi-source, plant-based powder with 25 grams of protein per serving. In this smoothie, you can swap in your protein supplement of choice or omit it all together if protein powder is not your jam. It's still a delicious smoothie.

Carrot Turmeric Protein Smoothie
(adapted from Vega)

Ingredients

• 1/2 tsp ground turmeric
• 1 tsp grated fresh ginger
• 1/2 cup grated carrot
• 1/2 cup frozen pineapple
• 1/2 frozen banana
• 1 cup coconut water (Harmless Harvest is my fave)
• 1 scoop Vega Sport Performance Protein Vanilla (totally optional - see note)

Preparation

1. Blend it all up
2. Enjoy 45-60 minutes post workout

I'm off to Gillette Stadium to watch the Revs take on the San Jose Earthquakes, in the snow!

720 days later.

Well, hello.

720 days have passed since I last posted on this blog.

3 days ago, Google auto-renewed my payment for the asphaltkitchen.com domain registration, which I lazily neglected to cancel when I stopped updating the blog.

1 day ago, the New England Revolution played to a scoreless draw with the Montreal Impact in their 2015 MLS home opener at Gillette Stadium.

Is it a coincidence that today, for the first time in two years, I am inspired by the urge to start things up again? Probably not.

I quit posting back in 2013 because keeping a blog was starting to feel less like a fun hobby and more like a bothersome chore. Plus, I just couldn't seem to think of anything worth writing. But yesterday I woke up suddenly filled to the brim with things I want to say to the infinite internet! So, why not?

Stuff has happened in my life since I posted here way back in 2013.

I got married.

I followed the New England Revolution all the way to the 2014 MLS Cup Final in Los Angeles...

...And I kept making and sharing vegetarian tailgate fare along the way.

I won a fitness competition at my local YMCA, and grew some muscles in the process.

But I still love cake sometimes.

I went from begrudgingly running just to Beat the Blerch to gleefully running because it makes me feel fast, strong and free. I knocked over five minutes off my 5K personal record and finished three half marathons.

I have one last date count: There are 62 days until I attempt my very first marathon. 
Let's be honest. My close family and friends are pretty tired of hearing me yammer on about marathon training, and fitness, and cooking, and soccer. But the internet? You will listen! Well, I won't be able to see you rolling your eyes from behind my computer screen, anyway.