Asheville, North Carolina

The weather was perfect, so Boyfriend and I walked home from work. We had a quick meal involving a grilled combination of the expiring veggies in our fridge. We then packed and headed south to Carrboro, NC to spend the night with R.D.S. And when I say spend the night, I literally mean spend the night. There was a brief minute of chatting before we hit the sack—her sack, for a quick night of rest. Before long, we were repacking our belongings and migrating west to Asheville to spend a long weekend with my dear friend and her boyfriend. Upon arriving, we had no real plans. We intended to make plans prior to the weekend. In the same way we intended to pre-plan our Pacific Northwest excursion last summer. But life. With spontaneity as our guide, we wandered… until rain forced us to pause for lunch at White Duck Taco. As it continued to pour, we migrated up the street for coffee at European Coffee Co. Nothing quite says vacation like fancy coffee after a stiff margarita. Then—making a fine impression on his new friends—Boyfriend took it upon himself to declare 3:00 pm was the right time to start sampling Asheville brews. Our first stop: The Thirtsy Monk. While the men drank, we ladies salvaged ourselves for later, delving into conversation that did not involve (over) analyzing a lengthy beer list. We didn’t move for a long, long time. And when we did, it was decided more drinking and later yet another meal was in order. The evening was spent at Wicked Weed, which was probably the trip highlight. The atmosphere was awesome and very different from anything Boyfriend and I would experience in Washington, D.C. And, for me, they had real fancy, real delicious, real affordable cocktails while Boyfriend continued to delight himself with various tastings of another kind.

(Fun Fact: Asheville bars have water fountains or pitchers or sinks or pumps for self-serve water on an as needed basis. I, a heavy consumer of H₂O, found this to be just wonderful. Even the best server cannot keep my glass full. But those fountains, they just keep pumping. )

Saturday, we were up and out the door for breakfast at Tupelo Honey Cafe and a hike. As luck would not have it, Bloody Mary’s don’t exactly fuel one for hiking and someone fed me way, way too many biscuits (among other goodness). My stomach was literally dragging me down. It did not help that the trail was not as obvious in our comatose state… we might have roamed aimlessly until stumbling upon the first of two waterfalls. We had Upper Falls to ourselves throughout the duration of our time there. My directionally challenged Boyfriend found us the second, more obvious waterfall—Lower Falls—after sometime. He knows breakfast-moderation! I found a rock with J.L.W. to discuss virtually every minute detail of life since our last conversation.  I realized I was sunburned… and all the sunscreen I packed was back in the hotel. At this point, I decided it was best to call it a day. It was something like 4:00 pm; I still could not even think about food. My three companions foraging (for blackberries?) nearly sent me over the edge.

We drove down the Blue Ridge Parkway for some time before eventually finding less scenic roads to travel to the beloved Mountaineer Inn. Showers were in order, then more food. (Re: My stomach still wasn’t ready… but Mellow Mushroom was calling.) There was some post-dinner strolling around town. And some more drinking at Jack of the Woods before we headed to the River District to visit The Wedge. The River District was closing as we arrived (sigh!)… but The Wedge allowed us a night cap… and our companions, skilled in being pleasant customers after time in the service industry, felt guilty about this. So we might have finished those drinks super quickly. Afterwards though, we made a grand discovery, happening upon an open warehouse where people were blowing/molding glass. In awe, we watched for some time. We ended the night on this high note.

The next morning, we had our final brunch at Over Easy. I had fancy food, in moderation. I also ate slowly as to preserve these sweet, final minutes with friends. And also because I might have been dreading the seven hour drive that lay before me.

That was Asheville—friends, food, and the great outdoors. Is there actually more to life? I do think not.

Easter Weekend

My college friend was in town visiting for Easter, providing an excuse to live a less lethargic life. We started Friday night off with some District of Pi deep-dish pizza, then a birthday party. Those are still fun when you are old. They are even more fun when you are celebrating older friends.
After sleeping in, I hit the ground running Saturday. The rest of the weekend followed suit, aside from the two episodes of trash television I was pinned down for in the afternoon. There were pedicures to be had, gourmet sandwiches to consume, a commute out to my parents, dogs to be walked, more fuel—in the form of over-sized hamburgers at Melt, my absolute favorite stop for quick-ish, greasy food in Northern Virginia, and cinnamon roll dough to be started. I essentially rose and repeated the eat-exercise-eat-activity frenzy on Sunday.

This was Easter, according to my photographs. The table décor caught my eye—and camera’s attention.

So simple and pretty. So easy. So not trying too hard.

(I am (and feel) old. Very old. I am detailing table arrangements on The Blog.)

The arrangement channeled early spring, appropriately so, as spring is just now finally springing in the metropolis of Washington, D.C. Though it’s late April, pastels would have been too warm for this occasion; navy and burnt orange worked.

(I was not disappointed the color pallet was that of my dear ol’ Clemson Tigers either.)

There was a lot more to Easter (beyond the one photograph captured). And Easter Weekend in general. Those plates were later filled with the hard work of Mom and Pop—lamb, rice pilaf, lemon roasted potatoes, green beans, spinach salad, and Sister Schubert rolls. Sister Schubert rolls because we—friends and family—needed a third starch. And for dessert—my contribution, there was banana pudding. Before dinner, we brunch’d on strata, cinnamon rolls, and fruit salad. There was also tons of Easter candy to snack on throughout the day, of course.

This weekend I made the sad realization I fall into the ‘run to eat’ category and not the reverse despite grand attempts to live a consistently healthy life. I assured Mom we needed Sister Schubert rolls because duh. And I ignore the ingredient list—including two cups of butter and sugar—when I pound cinnamon rolls like a champion.

I did not start the week as rested as I might have liked, however, my heart (and stomach) were certainly happy.

Countdown to October 12, 2014

These words will be forced as I have been in no mood to write as of late. I am fighting a block in the writing domain. This is most unfortunate as I have much to record.

Onwards.

I have big news! On Monday, April 14 I found out I won The Lottery. For the Chicago Marathon. While I had a fair shot at winning—33,000 of 71,000 entrants were provided spots, I was elated when my congratulatory email reached my inbox (at exactly 2:45 pm after waiting for what felt like forever). There are many things about running Chicago in October that feel right. The first being, I am running again. And I have been consistently doing so for nearly two months, working myself up to 10-plus mile weekend long runs. At paces that will qualify me for Boston, no less.

All the while, I am also enjoying running again. This is something I have not been able to say for a long, long time. But each time I lace up my shoes and run alongside the Potomac River or in front of monuments people travel to see or on the quiet, blossoming tree-bordered Four-Mile Trail, I feel so lucky to be living in this city. Plus, for extra motivation, Washington, D.C. is littered with runners.

Truthfully, it’s hard to complain about running when it’s a perfect 50 degrees at 6:00 am. (There cannot be enough positive things spewed about this weather. The most notable change—my mood. From drab to alive. I am not an unbearable, fulltime grouch. Just a seasonal grouch. And with that, I can deal.) This will be more difficult to say as the temperatures rise. But summer is not winter. And that alone feels right. 

After a stress fracture (ouch!) while training for the Cleveland Marathon in May 2007, I promised myself I would not train for running-related events going forward because PAIN. (This was the first and only running injury I have had. It came after y-e-a-r-s of pounding pavement. And it nearly ruined running for me. This event and time is not something I intend to ever relive. Re: Ouch!) For the past seven years, I have stayed true to that word. By essentially not running. To be entirely honest, I have since flirted with running because, again, PAIN. So all stars aligned (i.e., no injuries), this will be my first marathon. On a flat, fast Chicago course… with both a seasoned childhood friend and college companion enduring the challenge beside me.

I will not be running second-rate, fallback marathons in Richmond or Philadelphia. I will be running Chicago on October 12, 2014. The official training begins in June. Until then, I will be preparing for the Virginia Wine Country Half Marathon in late-May. Hooray happy, injury-free running! 

A Cherry Blossom Morning

There might be a theme in the previous and future posts. I am embracing Spring because it’s been a long, cold Winter. To not do so, oh what a shame!

So what could be better than walking to work? A walk to work while the sun is rising, with an in-route detour to see the Cherry Blossoms at peak bloom on a crisp Friday morning. There was also a pause along the National Mall for a park-bench breakfast consisting of Farmer’s Market honeydew and cashews.

Despite my time in Washington, D.C., I can site very little of the history of these trees. I do know they bloom once a year for a very short window (i.e., two to three days) usually in early April. I think they were a gift from Japan, planted 50 some years ago. My last two statistics might be off. To me, this doesn’t really matter. These trees are spectacular and regardless of all the camera-crazy tourists they bring to my city, I marvel and delight in the splash of color on gentle petals each year. This year I employed a weekday, early morning tactic to catch the trees in their blooming glory. This might become a new tradition. The verdict is out as to whether the sappy couples posing for cheesy engagement pictures at the not-so-appropriate sunrise hour is better or worse than hoards upon hoards of regular, touristy blossom onlookers.

The fact of the matter: I have to share the Cherry Blossoms. And I need to make the most of it. I certainly managed to do so this year!

Opening Day

On Friday, I ventured to Nationals Park for Opening Day to see my Atlanta Braves. And despite all my reservations about taking a half-day of work after recently starting on a (new) project, paying an "Opening Day" premium for a ticket, and attending a ball game solo quickly faded after the first inning. Not only was being a part of Opening Day hype, a first for me, super exciting, this was hands down the most action-packed game I have seen.

These things all happened:

• Atlanta Braves' Dan Uggla, the worst Brave to date, had the first hit for the team. 
• Three players--Harper and Desmond and Atlanta Braves' Andrelton Simmons--were caught stealing bases. Desmond was caught stealing second to third. Both Harper and Desmond were caught in rundowns. 
• Altanta Braves' Jason Heyward was hit by a pitch. 
• Nationals' Adam LaRoche was thrown out at home by Braves' Justin Upton. 
• Washington Nationals' Bryce Harper threw a fit after striking out (his first of two Ks). 
• Braves' Evan Gattis hit a home run. 
• Braves' pitcher David Hale struck out bunting. (That's no good!)
• Heyward successful stole second. 
• Nationals' Ian Desmond hit an inside-the-park home run, that was later reviewed under MLB Instant Replay and overturned as a ground rule double. 
• Two runs were scored on sacrifice flys, one for each team.  
• The Braves used six pitchers. (Eeek!)
• There were 14 total hits. 

And, of course, the Braves winning 2-1 at Nationals Park truly iced the cake. Play ball. 

March Goal: A Review

I completed my March goal; I finished the five books I set out to read. My current position provides me a glorious, hour-long break for lunch. And because I do not have (or want) coworker friends, I spend my lunch time reading in the huge atrium at the National Portrait Gallery, a location that makes my little heart happy on the coldest of winter days; Barnes & Noble; or on a random bench on the rare warm-enough days. I also recently discovered a quaint court house–optimal for dining–inside my work-local Panera. And last, there is a neat zen garden across the street from my office. The downside to this otherwise neat spot is the the lingering smells of cigarette smoke, which is a scent that doesn't exactly scream "hang out here for lunch." And sadly this is an area where smokers congregate, despite the plethora of signs citing this area is NOT for puffing.

So when I am not walking around scouting new spots for dining and linger, I’m reading.

And these were my five picks for March:

1. A House in the Sky by Amanda Lindhout and Sara Corbett – This was by far the best book I read this month. It’s a memoir, of course, detailing Lindhout’s time in captivity in Somalia.
2. Tuesday’s With Morrie by Mitch Albom – My parents have encouraged me to read this for oh about the last nine years, around the time I began reading for pleasure, no longer feeling it was a miserable chore. After forcing my way through Albom’s Five Years in Heaven during my freshman year of college, I had no desire to pick up this book. Well, I finally did. And happily so. I would not give this book glowing reviews but it is short enough to enjoy; it felt like a meaningful, long blog post. The words were wise. And the story of time Albom spent with his dying college professor, Morrie Schwartz, made me want to live a kinder, slower life.
3. Divergent by Veronica Roth – I had high hopes for this book after the rumored comparisons to Hunger Games. This book was a total disappointment. I am not sure why I finished reading. I am not even sure I will see the movie.  
4. Slim for Life: My Insider Secrets to Simple, Fast, and Lasting Weight Loss by Jillian Michaels – I was sorely disappointed. There were very few new tips. And the “secrets” were repetitive, really repetitive.
5. The Antelope in the Living Room: The Real Story of Two People Sharing One Life by Melanie Shankle – I have followed Shankle at The Big Mama Blog for almost two years now. This is her second book. And while this book is much like her first – Sparkly Green Earring – in that it’s essentially a series of blog posts strung together in a book, I found the content worth reading. It’s easy and light and happy; I laughed often (and nearly cried once or twice). Her tales made me appreciate companionship and the challenge it can sometimes be to share your life with someone else. 

In addition to my lunch hour, I was also aided by winter. Until yesterday afternoon, it was still very much winter in the mid-Atlantic. So I read and weep and hoped for Spring. (It just might be here!)

And finally, I have yet to indulged in a day of solitude nor have I really started learning the Arabic alphabet--my personal and spiritual goals for the year. I have allotted time for these activities in April; it seems adding this to the calendar might in fact be the only way I am successful.

April is upon us, may it be sunny.