Friday, July 24, 2009

Vegetarian Squid Nugget.

Ever since my employer installed POS newest version of MSOffice and it's evil sidekick, IE 7, in my computer has started freezing up about twice an hour. In between freezes, I get some work done.

This morning, it suddenly occured to me that one of the reasons I've been feeling so blue lately is because I'm not getting to do what I love to do most of all: an easy trail run in the cool of the day before all the swarms of locusts mountain bike riders and contribitors of dog crap people who don't "believe" in leash laws show up.
Don't get me wrong - the training is going well. I'm exactly as I should be at this point. It's just that training for an Ironman is a lot like doing a thesis: you start out fairly enthusiastic and excited. Gradually, however, as THE day approaches, you're sick of the whole thing and ready to get it over with, wondering if it's all worth it. It's work.
That's not enough for me; I need at least one run every week that I do because I enjoy it. When I do, then I can shrug off most of life's annoyances and worries.

So. But. Anyway. Lying in bed, I worked out in my mind a route that I figured to be about 3 miles. I started at the crack of dawn, and it was awesome. I started out on neighborhood streets, joined silently for a short time by other morning runners who were barely discernable in the dawn light and getting their morning fix in.

After about a mile, I turned onto a trail leading up into the foothills, and I was alone. Up, up, up I climbed continuously for about a mile, jogging slowly, joined occasionally by bunnies zig-zagging down the path in front of me and the occasional coyote ambling across the path. I turned off and headed up a small arroyo, still climbing, happy that I was still running.
Alone this way, I'm not big or slow: Compared to the stillness around me, I feel swift, no matter how slowly I might moving.

On this run there are two places where I crest a hill top as I round a corner. Looking down, the whole of Albuquerque, lights still twinkling, is spread out before me. Each time I crest there's the satisfaction and grattitude that I get to do this.

I landed in my back yard and walked around for a bit, cooling off, and my cats stared at me enviously through the window. I stretched, and watched some quail run across the back yard for a bit. This is what I have to do each week, I know now, to get my fix in. Antidepressants are cheaper than running shoes, but not nearly as satisfying.

So. About the title. Well, Sweet Baboo and I go to this World Food Market every week. It has a large selection of Chinese vegetarian foods. I go every week hoping that they'll be carrying the vegetarian shrimp that I've had and loved - but alas, I think they have stopped carrying it. Anyway. While looking for it, I saw this on the shelf: vegetarian squid nugget. I'm not really sure what to do with it, but I'm of the opinion that if you find a food that looks like the name of a punk rock band, you must try it. So I brought it home. I couldn't think of any title for this post. So there ya go.

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3 comments:

  1. I had the same epiphany when I was IM training (not that I am the poster child of how to successfully prepare for and IM. But you are, so I digress...)

    I was miserable because EVERY workout was work. I already work. A lot. I didn't need my hobby to suck too. But I found that a little trail run where I meandered around and took pictures of cool stuff made me happy.

    Glad you got your "happy" run in!

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  2. Sadly we don't have trails..unless you count Central Park (at dawn, a very sketchy place to be). However, "following" you on your run was somewhat satisfying.

    I LOVE going into foreign food marts (particularly Asian) and reading the labels, especially the ones that have English translations, hysterical! "Cool fashion need cool taste"

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  3. Love it!
    My favorite store in San Fran it called "Little Tokio" and they have all kinds of weird dried seafood fun colorful packaging for neat kid's snax and candy.
    I love the packaging!

    ReplyDelete

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