tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40489840814102142052024-03-05T11:59:52.490-08:00Snapshots, Sweets, and Sneakered FeetWelcome to my corner of the world! I dabble in photography, love to cook, and run a whole lot.... so here I will share some of my adventures, both in the kitchen and beyond. Thanks for stopping by!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-59932977584765031262017-07-04T13:42:00.002-07:002017-07-04T13:42:27.603-07:00Grow Baby Grow<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This past weekend, I finally planted my garden. It was hot, humid, and a typical New England summer day. I bought some tomato and zucchini plants a few weeks ago, after the seeds I started earlier in the spring got scorched the first day I put them outside. (whomp whomp...#gardenerfail) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In truth, I had been a bit aggressive in my gardening plans earlier this spring. I started tomatoes (2 varieties), heirloom carrots, fennel, broccoli, green beans, pickling cucumbers, zucchini, lavender... yeah, a bit much given my 20' x 8' plot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I have always loved gardening. When I look at the talents of the older generations of women in my family - my mom is an exceptional seamstress, my grandmother is an equally gifted knitter - I felt like I was letting the family down. I can sew a hem and a button, and knit in a straight line, that's about it. And then I fondly remember my great grandmother, whom we all referred to as "Gram" or "Sadie" (short for her given name, Sarah). I was lucky enough to know Gram in my young life, as she passed away when I was 17 and a senior in high school. I grew up in her former home, where everyone in our family knew about the gardens at Berkeley St. So, although I can't knit or sew amazing creations, I'm pretty darn good at growing things in the dirt. I'd like to think I inherited that from Gram.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As I was turning my plot of dirt yesterday, I was gleeful to discover earthworms nearly a dozen times in shovelfuls of dirt. This is huge, since when we moved in and I started working this plot, I realized it was mainly gravel and clay, rocks, weeds, mulch, and random junk that filled this 20' x 8' box next to our patio. When I'm out in the garden, digging, weeding, and getting dirty, I think of Gram and hope I'm making her proud. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This time, I couldn't help but think about where I was last year, doing the same digging, weeding, and getting dirty. I remember tears streaming down, as I struggled with why I could grow vegetables, yet my body couldn't function enough to grow a baby. Wishing all the hormones I was taking would work, and by some miracle we could cultivate and grow our family tree without significant medical intervention. (As you know from a <a href="https://snapshotsandsweettreats.blogspot.com/2017/06/the-land-of-if.html" target="_blank">previous post</a>, such was not the case.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">This year, although it will certainly become more challenging as the summer wears on (as I type I'm already nearing 19 weeks pregnant), I am determined to dig and weed and get dirty; determined to grow my vegetables. Even though it will be a smaller crop than I originally planned. Even though it may take me longer to weed, and I need more breaks to rest. And you know what, that's ok. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">The funny thing about life is that while we try our best to cultivate the gardens we have always dreamed of, nature has a way of showing us ways to appreciate what we have, even though it may not be the way we had planned. </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-62590685670324419982017-06-02T17:44:00.000-07:002017-06-04T11:40:53.466-07:00The Land of “IF”<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At our first consultation, the news hit me like a truck – premature ovarian failure</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Wait, what?? I’m only 35. How? Why?</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Of course, these questions didn’t come to mind until hours and days later. Long after I sobbed on Derek’s shoulder in the middle of the parking lot. </span><br>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">First, I was numb. Clarity and some awareness came later. I remember I got a bad vibe when I was there. The doctor seemed dismissive, quick to write off my initial (and partial) blood work as the end. Minimal explanations. And a pitiful, “I’m so sorry. It looks like premature ovarian failure. Your chances of conceiving are less than 1%, unless you use donor eggs.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What? Donor eggs? Only </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">half</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> my child? How does that even work? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Thus began our journey navigating the land of “IF” - INFERTILITY. That taboo word and situation that no one wants to talk about. In truth, I prefer “fertility challenged,” because, you know, I like to be different. This was April 2016. We had been married almost a year. And I wasn't getting any younger (as I was reminded frequently).</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I realize this is awkward. And probably uncomfortable too. Maybe people might read it. Maybe no one will read it. But you know what, who cares?! If you are still reading after I mentioned OVARIES and INFERTILITY, maybe you’ll stick around for more awkward stories! (If you stick around, it will be worth it - I promise!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After our first meeting at the first clinic, there was no question: We wanted another opinion. Thankfully, the second place put out a much more calming feeling. From the initial conversation with the patient coordinator to the doctor to the ultrasound tech, I felt more comfortable. Well, as comfortable as I could feel, given the circumstances and tests prescribed. Cue the consult, more blood work, ultrasound, waiting for my period to arrive, semen analysis for D, cycle day 3 testing for me, the HSG, and that isn’t even a lot compared to others I know going through even more difficult fertility problems than I have. New diagnosis: ovarian insufficiency. </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That’s not as bad, maybe…?</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Dr. DiGirolamo seemed to think there are good eggs in there, but we just need to access them. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ok, but how??? Answer: Medication. Lots of hormone meds. Like the kind you inject into your stomach, the kind that make you fat and make coworkers and random strangers congratulate you on expecting and you’re like “Nope. Just fat. Thanks!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Fast forward to November. The game plan was </span><span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.resolve.org/family-building-options/iui/" style="text-decoration-line: none;">IUI</a> </span><span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(intrauterine insemination)</span><span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Given my situation/diagnosis, I didn’t seem to be a candidate for IVF (which, btw, is what EVERYONE thinks of when you mention fertility treatments. Not the only option, folks.) We were ready for our “Hail Mary” play (Dr. DiG’s words, for serious). After a few months of cancelled cycles due to a (massive) cyst and wonky hormone numbers, we were good to go. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(Still with me?? Good! It will be worth it!)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The roller coaster that is the land of the fertility challenged is an interesting and surreal one. There are a lot of assumptions made…. For example: fertility treatments = IVF. Yes and no. IVF is a type of <a href="http://www.resolve.org/family-building-options/ivf-art/" target="_blank">ART</a>, yet not the only method. Not many people know what IUI is. The surreal, for example, is waking up super early on Christmas morning because that is when your doctor wants you to come in for your next mid-cycle blood work and ultrasound monitoring (btw - The Land of IF has zero holidays off). Surreal is also being one of a dozen women visiting the clinic for the same monitoring on said Christmas morning. The Land of IF does not discriminate - all people from all walks of life, all cultures, ethnicities, races…There are as many types and causes of infertility as there are different people navigating this journey. It is both sobering and comforting. Those navigating the Land of IF are part of a special, secret club that no one talks about (think: Fight Club, without the soap-making front). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ok, back to the plan. We navigate the holidays and several back to back IUI cycles. As my 36th birthday approached (in early March), I was having a hard time. We had done 3 medicated cycles. My body responded well, but not awesome. We had negative after negative test. A few days after my birthday, we were scheduled for IUI #4. By now, we knew the drill. Rest and relax for a couple weeks...no alcohol, no crazy exercise, and see you in 2 weeks for blood test to see if the procedure worked (or not). </span></span><br>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We did 4 back-to-back cycles. Back-to-back roller coaster rides of the ups and downs. The hope, and then the defeat. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Even if curiosity is killing you, please don’t ask if someone is planning on having babies or when they will have babies. Oh, and please <i>PLEASE</i> do not assume someone is expecting. Unless they tell you personally that they are expecting. Just don't. They may be navigating the Land of IF and your inquiry is not helpful and will make the one being asked just feel worse.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">If someone entrusts you with their fertility story, please just listen. Don’t try to fix it, offer suggestions, or share stories of your mother’s cousin’s best friend’s daughter’s mailman's next door neighbor who got pregnant right after making an appointment with a fertility doctor. Your heart may be in the right place, but just listening truly demonstrates you care. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There is no “one size fits all” in the Land of IF. Every person, every diagnosis, every treatment is different. In the United States, 1 in 8 couples struggle with infertility. So much can be said for modern medicine (science is real, peeps!) and hope. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Be an advocate for yourself. Getting a second opinion is OK. Questioning the prescribed treatment is OK. Ask questions, learn about your body, be your own champion. And if you don’t feel comfortable with your doctor/the clinic/your treatment plan, get another opinion.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And… in the end… our journey was worth it. <3 </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Baby Girl M will be joining us around December 1.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Friends - if you are still reading, and perhaps on your own journey in the Land of IF - reach out. It’s lonely out there. You don’t have to go it alone. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was (and still am) fortunate to have wonderful support along the way, and I realize not everyone has a strong support system. Not everyone’s journey ends with a happy outcome. And as you travel this road, it is OK to not be OK sometimes. You don't have to explain yourself. Just know that it's OK to be what you are. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Find your strength, lean on your tribe, and protect your heart as much as you have to. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Additional Resources</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Here are some resources I found helpful for information, support, sharing with others, and hope.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.resolve.org/" style="text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Resolve</span></a></span></div>
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<a href="http://silentsorority.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Silent Sorority</span></a></div>
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<a href="https://disorderlylove.wordpress.com/" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Disorderly Love</span></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.popsugar.com/moms/How-Support-Friend-Going-Through-IVF-42421044" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">How to Support a Friend Going Through IVF</span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.resolve.org/family-building-options/myths-about-iui-art-ivf.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Myths About IUI-ART-IVF</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.resolve.org/support/talking-about-infertility/" target="_blank">Talking About Infertility</a></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-20662380257604892502014-12-15T18:42:00.001-08:002014-12-15T18:42:13.810-08:00It's beginning to smell a lot like Christmas!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As an adult, Christmas stresses me out more than it did when I was a kid (duh, obviously Amanda!). There is more to do - gifts to buy, decisions on whose family to see when, working full time, trying not to eat every sweet treat in sight so that the pants still fit come January 1... Know what I mean?? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In truth, Christmas was wonderful in our family when I was a kid (it still is!). We had a big family breakfast will all the aunts/uncles/cousins/grandparents you could fit into my parents' cozy old house. Then we'd trek over to my grandparents' home for an all day, open house - family and friends would stop by all day, we'd eat, nap, and eat some more. Pasta, sauce, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Braciola" target="_blank">braciole</a> (or involtini, to be accurate), cookies, cakes... It was amazing. A big, loud, Italian-Irish Christmas. I only regret one thing...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>I never appreciated <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Biscotti" target="_blank">biscotti</a>!</b> Silly, I know. Those crunchy, twice-baked Italian cookies that my mom always made. Now, as an adult, I don't know how I <i>wasn't </i>enchanted by the sweet, almond-apricot treats (that is the flavor I remember mom baking), the zing of the apricot brandy and chunks of dried apricots in the biscuits. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A couple years ago my mom shared with me the Almond Apricot Biscotti recipe that she got from my aunt, Bethann, many years ago. I dug it out and made a batch last night. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, I can't leave well enough alone and had to dip the finished cookies in melted white chocolate to make them even more enticing. I instantly craved a strong cup of coffee and wanted to eat the whole batch. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These do take some time to make, but trust me, it is all worth it! Check out the recipe at the end of this post. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, in addition to my Sunday baking bonanza, I made my annual hand-dipped, dark chocolate-covered Oreos. Um...yes. These are always a favorite of my colleagues. I dipped close to five dozen cookies in some delicious Ghirardelli 60% cacao chips, melted until smooth. My technique as improved quite a bit over the years. When I first started making the chocolate-covered Oreos, it looked like a toddler did them (true story!). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And finally, I experimented a little and made my own biscotti creation - dark chocolate cranberry. These taste every bit as good as they sound...even if I was a little heavy-handed on the chocolate. ;) </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, that is a 3 pound bag! </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is a bunch of sugar in these cookies, so I opted for the reduced sugar Craisins</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chocolate cranberry biscotti - before the first bake</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u>Almond Apricot Biscotti</u></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Preheat oven to 350 degrees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2 3/4 cups flour</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1 1/2 cups sugar</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1 tsp ground ginger</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1 tsp salt</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1/2 cup chilled, unsalted butter</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2 1/2 tsp baking powder</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3 1/2 oz (about a cup) white chocolate </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(I use Ghirardelli chips)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1 2/3 cup sliced, toasted almonds</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2 large eggs</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2 tsp almond extract</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1/4 cup + 1 Tbsp of apricot brandy</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6 oz chopped dried apricots</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mix together in a food processor </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">flour,</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> sugar, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ginger, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">salt, </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">baking powder, and</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> butter. P</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ulse until blended.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next, mix in white chocolate and toasted almonds.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In a bowl, mix eggs, almond extract, and apricot brandy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients in the food processor. Put the mixture in a large bowl and carefully mix in apricots. It might take some muscle, as the dough will be quite thick now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On a foil-lined cookie sheet sprayed with cooking spray, shape the dough into 3 logs - about 2" x 12" each. Refrigerate for 30 min. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, bake for 30 min. until golden brown. The logs will be kind of squishy in the middle. Transfer to a cooling rack and cool. Reduce oven to 300 degrees.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cut into 3/4" wide slices. I use a serrated knife and cut carefully! Bake for 10 min. on each side. Cool, then store in an air-tight container for up to 2 weeks (if they last that long!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">*Dark chocolate cranberry version - use dark chocolate instead of white chocolate, and dried cranberries instead of apricots. I eliminated the almonds, used vanilla extract instead of almond, and used Grand Marnier in place of apricot brandy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hey party people! This year, I decided to purchase a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Community-supported_agriculture" target="_blank">CSA</a> share from a local farm through a program at work. For a set price paid in advance, I get a bucket of local fruits/veggies every week for 20 weeks (June thru October)!!! How cool is that?!?! It worked out to be about $15 a week for hubs-to-be and I to get a bin of fresh veggies, locally-grown at <a href="http://oldenoursefarmgourmet.com/store/index.html" target="_blank">Nourse Farm</a>. That's a win in my book! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, for a couple weeks I got some pickling cucumbers in my bin. Being that I (and hubs-to-be) LOVE pickles, I figured "Why not try to make my own??" I found a plethora of recipes for refrigerator dill pickles on Pinterest and the interwebs. I decided to modify a couple recipes and create my own blend of perfectly "dill-ified" cold and crunchy cukes!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The finished product!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The process was super easy - as in, I was surprised it didn't take more work - but I'm not complaining! The hardest part was waiting 3 DAYS to try these dilly, crunchy snacks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here are some photos of the process, and the recipe that I used. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The goods!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Boiling and waiting for it to cool was the loooonngest part!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sliced the cukes and packed the jar while I was waiting for the liquid to cool.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnt78cn-hSg02g1oe-qvaYW5KvJcd3a_VW3NsSemxDzL1hz0asKXtgBdgLNTTO7lRU2KK6WZNsI89tBMVAvN2aDsCuo4_3U-xPlXxi6RYmKwFobQF7Bb0HU4ui7oiTDow9s2dNmBl0r4s-/s1600/IMG_20140720_182049_483.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnt78cn-hSg02g1oe-qvaYW5KvJcd3a_VW3NsSemxDzL1hz0asKXtgBdgLNTTO7lRU2KK6WZNsI89tBMVAvN2aDsCuo4_3U-xPlXxi6RYmKwFobQF7Bb0HU4ui7oiTDow9s2dNmBl0r4s-/s1600/IMG_20140720_182049_483.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All packed up and ready for the pickling liquid</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Refrigerator Dills</b></span></span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">3 ½ cups water</span><br data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$1:0" />
<span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$2:0">1
¼ cups white vinegar</span><br data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$3:0" />
<span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.0.$end:0:$4:0">1
Tbsp sugar</span><br data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$1:0" />
<span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$2:0">1
Tbsp sea salt</span><br data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$3:0" />
<span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$4:0">4
cups cucumber spears or slices</span><br data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$5:0" />
<span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$6:0">3-4 cloves garlic, whole and peeled</span><br data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$7:0" />
<span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$8:0">3-4
sprigs of fresh dill</span><br data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$9:0" />
<span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$10:0">1
Tbsp black pepper corns</span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3"><br data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$11:0" />
<span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$12:0">Mix
water, vinegar, sugar, and salt in a saucepan and bring to a boil. Let it cool
completely. Put all the cucumbers and spices into a mason jar or jar with
tight-fitting lid. You might need to divide the cukes and liquid between two
jars, depending on the size of the jar.
Pour liquid into the jar(s). Refrigerate for 3 days. </span></span></span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$12:0"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$12:0">Caution - once opened, the pickles are irresistible. They will not last long. You have been warned. ;) </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$12:0"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3"><span data-reactid=".d5.1:3:1:$comment10152268763477963_10152268792977963:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.3.0.$end:0:$12:0">Mangia!</span></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-85836260399495189622014-07-20T17:55:00.000-07:002014-07-20T17:55:25.179-07:00Better late than never! (a.k.a. Boston Marathon Weekend 3 months later) <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tomorrow it will be 3 months since I took a little run from Hopkinton to Boston. I have been meaning to blog my feelings and reactions to that day, but, ya know, life gets in the way! </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Alas, here I am: 3 months post-Boston Marathon and I am finally writing about it. I remember it with amazing clarity. Slightly warmer than ideal, horrendous traffic getting into Hopkinton, nervous energy, oh yeah, and a terrible chest cold!! :( I started to feel "not right" the Thursday before... I was burning up, felt super tired, and just blah. Friday morning I woke up to a full blown cold. In April. 3 days before I got to finish what I started on April 15, 2013. There was only one thing I could focus on: I was going to finish that damn race!!!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I rested as much as I could, tried not to laugh (because that induced massive coughing fits), and drank water and tea, and anything laced with vitamin C like a fiend. I HAD to feel better. Saturday night was the highlight of my runner geek life - I was going to meet Hal Higdon! You might remember his book, <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Boston-2013-Through-Eyes-Runners/dp/1450497101/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1405899489&sr=8-1&keywords=4+09+43+boston+2013+through+the+eyes+of+the+runners" target="_blank">4:09:43</a>, </i>that he wrote soon after that life-changing day. He selected <a href="http://snapshotsandsweettreats.blogspot.com/2013/08/reflecting-and-healing.html" target="_blank">my story</a> to be part of his book, a walk (er, run) through the day from the eyes of those involved: runners, spectators, officials, all of us. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhW-yqzfSzvJUHh6WzbYmZjXfTAc5jPojnpadKDqxfDIt5aE_U0BAMZqcs71pJbivwqmevXzupCn7-vGT7g0FZaEGvce0Cqs64u-q3RC2S8DWO4XwIhdFLz8JDzvlhte0r-Tp2bwh0_yvF/s1600/IMG_20140419_143134_686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhW-yqzfSzvJUHh6WzbYmZjXfTAc5jPojnpadKDqxfDIt5aE_U0BAMZqcs71pJbivwqmevXzupCn7-vGT7g0FZaEGvce0Cqs64u-q3RC2S8DWO4XwIhdFLz8JDzvlhte0r-Tp2bwh0_yvF/s1600/IMG_20140419_143134_686.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I rallied on Saturday to visit the expo, get my number, and have dinner in town for The Gathering of the 75, as our group was dubbed from Mr. Higdon himself. I felt like death, but as many of us runners can be, I was stubborn and was not going to miss this opportunity for anything. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXytwdWDVstYfbFU5H8FAk5zx-oOTqx24IDJFvFI21hFL-GbZykjqQ-pZKoTkZmglElxwEvXYogkc9LRhyphenhyphenzUiEGQbshY0bFz0AuPTocNGjXccE-cKG736W3U5WuAPHgI5Lm-xCRiv4qVl/s1600/IMG_20140420_120051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXytwdWDVstYfbFU5H8FAk5zx-oOTqx24IDJFvFI21hFL-GbZykjqQ-pZKoTkZmglElxwEvXYogkc9LRhyphenhyphenzUiEGQbshY0bFz0AuPTocNGjXccE-cKG736W3U5WuAPHgI5Lm-xCRiv4qVl/s1600/IMG_20140420_120051.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We went to dinner and met up with the man himself. Such a great guy, approachable, and fun. We met a few new friends - Mary and Dave from Milwaukee, John and Helen from Scotland, and of course Janine who organized the whole shindig. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm4D0f6VJbl4VK1d8RvRl26UmyVocoq-YtXrg59nT-gGMd40VFBckflRynGQcvH1TUnGwaQzX8KQ2MMHMMYnQP6WS1Z7wEO74BMIDZznCXvG-2SGYDfJFDEqqRlyeTtMiBS7t32HV2gWIM/s1600/IMG_20140419_185836_932.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm4D0f6VJbl4VK1d8RvRl26UmyVocoq-YtXrg59nT-gGMd40VFBckflRynGQcvH1TUnGwaQzX8KQ2MMHMMYnQP6WS1Z7wEO74BMIDZznCXvG-2SGYDfJFDEqqRlyeTtMiBS7t32HV2gWIM/s1600/IMG_20140419_185836_932.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcF18leJ6-0jdhmhtfFnw1VnJh-Alf6NXlgU_rSS4An9sNn64DPjWAvxyd3cb7tKncLz3Tz36doaFYlCJzi6oHEt5Tl1lkNS6rEU0ZYALjaltB3JsS3xA7HhChR4OrQqiNh03AODn3mj_T/s1600/IMG_20140419_214432_135.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcF18leJ6-0jdhmhtfFnw1VnJh-Alf6NXlgU_rSS4An9sNn64DPjWAvxyd3cb7tKncLz3Tz36doaFYlCJzi6oHEt5Tl1lkNS6rEU0ZYALjaltB3JsS3xA7HhChR4OrQqiNh03AODn3mj_T/s1600/IMG_20140419_214432_135.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I definitely made out in race schwag! </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrx9m6hXOxrXunhWiIN382i5Plh9LxERK0dsHpfpBF54l8q9EmLMSYn8aOwPpWID1e_4aX-PFhsvQ6aodPEVM78jCCgeR63YwKspeL3a4cEU_GqnGsDalPzVJzhN5UH7gE9qomuvA5ZKfz/s1600/IMG_20140419_174252_124.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrx9m6hXOxrXunhWiIN382i5Plh9LxERK0dsHpfpBF54l8q9EmLMSYn8aOwPpWID1e_4aX-PFhsvQ6aodPEVM78jCCgeR63YwKspeL3a4cEU_GqnGsDalPzVJzhN5UH7gE9qomuvA5ZKfz/s1600/IMG_20140419_174252_124.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Run like Hal!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vGuJoEV6SSV7iE7jLo6mwHopkXCUmA6_dkobVlnXPqE4ZDFm6sXXRdSKx_T4vzbEp0NC-JUbOm55_0Q9-4OBhq00Kjiaz4MY2LScUYIcR5hP_Xx7mXQ-wByycp7AQLOs9GJshTBVuO40/s1600/IMG_20140419_193138_735.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vGuJoEV6SSV7iE7jLo6mwHopkXCUmA6_dkobVlnXPqE4ZDFm6sXXRdSKx_T4vzbEp0NC-JUbOm55_0Q9-4OBhq00Kjiaz4MY2LScUYIcR5hP_Xx7mXQ-wByycp7AQLOs9GJshTBVuO40/s1600/IMG_20140419_193138_735.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary and Dave</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0vqphKB5-fpzaForgET3Ngc_3jC-CicdNNtw3l_rQVU2XUpGCJadQYO-x4kAHk91_xCqniHXUkPqowJdeDvscSRZk_-3fndYCOFMge5x5p8rPlbnmEjpKCNLipud4cvK1YV6ekz8FI90/s1600/IMG_20140419_193127_608.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0vqphKB5-fpzaForgET3Ngc_3jC-CicdNNtw3l_rQVU2XUpGCJadQYO-x4kAHk91_xCqniHXUkPqowJdeDvscSRZk_-3fndYCOFMge5x5p8rPlbnmEjpKCNLipud4cvK1YV6ekz8FI90/s1600/IMG_20140419_193127_608.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John and Helen</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After muddling my way through Easter Dinner with the in-laws-to-be (I'm sure I was in a medicated fog), marathon Monday was upon us. Traffic was awful getting into Hopkinton - CRB had to drop me off a mile from the center of town and I gave a State Trooper a coronary because I was carrying a backpack. He let me continue on my way to the branch when I nearly burst into tears on the sidewalk. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the obligatory 3+ hour wait, it was time for us wave 4 folks to head to our corrals. </span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunkA8O-Yw_I2Kj3s4zQKqc7C1TgXo6ofnDrXz0nliWOFfm3xg_HeWcWw8pWWw_U2Kdarc558xtbNV8AHuzcxDTo-7cnUsDWH2AlrO2fzg7LULLK6IP88gMgMDSPqywtZN7V0CE5Fn7Ymr/s1600/IMG_20140421_105448_290.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunkA8O-Yw_I2Kj3s4zQKqc7C1TgXo6ofnDrXz0nliWOFfm3xg_HeWcWw8pWWw_U2Kdarc558xtbNV8AHuzcxDTo-7cnUsDWH2AlrO2fzg7LULLK6IP88gMgMDSPqywtZN7V0CE5Fn7Ymr/s1600/IMG_20140421_105448_290.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raquel and yours truly</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwYG1UDQOZVJ080r7k2o6qvDhyphenhyphenXIHhfJcNfB2NDu0A_KOph9O7JlTq2Iz8cu9SUB2KcUMI0sEfJzi96L73llBriAqMIWa-bFQQR6WTMhiQ9Kb-UZ1Mdhp4xzafI2Rk4xMaEwFp-l_ctjM/s1600/IMG_20140421_105535_502.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUwYG1UDQOZVJ080r7k2o6qvDhyphenhyphenXIHhfJcNfB2NDu0A_KOph9O7JlTq2Iz8cu9SUB2KcUMI0sEfJzi96L73llBriAqMIWa-bFQQR6WTMhiQ9Kb-UZ1Mdhp4xzafI2Rk4xMaEwFp-l_ctjM/s1600/IMG_20140421_105535_502.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raquel, me, Henry, Stacy</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I really wanted to finish in under 5 hours, but when the evil death cold descended into my chest a few days before, I knew that was not going to be possible. I decided to sight see, be careful (as careful as one can be while running a marathon), and just run for that painted line on Boylston Street. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I took my time, knowing where friends and family would be stationed. It turned out to be warmer than any of us expected that day. I saw my work friends in Natick. Huge thanks to Nick for replenishing my sport beans and coconut water stores! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I saw my amazing friend Amy in Wellesley where she was volunteering at the Mile 14 water stop. Water and a hug - exactly what I needed right about then!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I saw my dad and my CRB at Newton-Wellesley Hospital. I stopped to chat a little and take some water. Dad said I looked good, so I knew I wasn't looking like death. (He's pretty honest about stuff like that). Patty gave me a cheer at Mile 17-ish right before the Newton fire station turn onto Comm Ave.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I struggled the whole day, but I really started to feel bad around Mile 20 or so. I saw my friends Jo and Amanda right before then, and they reassured me I looked great. Hey, I might not be fast, but at least I still looked OK at Heartbreak Hill, right?! A guy offered me a beer, and I actually considered it at that point. I mean, I had 6-ish miles left, it was hot, I was tired...how much worse could it get? Well, 200 yards past my girls, it got worse. I hurled. Sitting on the curb halfway up THE hill, I actually thought for a minute that I was going to see the inside of a medical tent that day. But no. That wasn't an option. Crossing that painted line was my ONLY option that day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Surprisingly, I felt better after I got sick. Once I got past the hills and began my final descent into the city, I knew I was going to finish. Not fast, and not pretty, but I would finish. (If only that nagging side cramp had subsided, it would have been SO much better!) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I worked my way through the route, getting closer and closer with every step. I was amazed at how many fans were still along the course. It was amazing. Once I saw the Citgo sign, I knew I was almost there. When I hit Kenmore Square, that's when the emotion really hit me. This is where I was stopped last year. The Sox game had been over little while, thus Kenmore was packed with energy and emotion. The tears started then. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the "1k to go" banner, I saw blue singlets. Could that be Tedy's Team, and my friend Christine? Nah...I hadn't seen her since we loaded into the corrals at the start. But it was! She and I stuck together with other Tedy's Team peeps for the final .62 miles. I saw my family when I took the right onto Hereford. Mom, Dad, CRB, Andy, Aunt Beth...all there for me. They were there last year and were closer to the tragedy than I was. They showed up again to support me and the tens of thousands of others for the love of the event.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Taking the left onto Boylston, I was in awe of what I saw. People, 10 deep, lining the street, cheering for complete strangers, cheering because they were there. After what happened last year, I was worried. Worried that the finish line wouldn't be the same, that the energy wouldn't be the same. I had been on Boylston to see my brother finish the Boston Marathon in 2009. I felt the energy, the amazing vibe, just everything. I had hoped that wouldn't change. And it didn't. Maybe I was delirious by then, but I think I ran my best in the last 386 yards than I had the entire race. I saw the NF Inc. Northeast ladies just before I got to the finish line. Cheering like crazy! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, at long last..... that line of paint. I had it. No one could take that away from me now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hugged Christine, made sure she was ok, and then I was off to find my family (albeit <i>very</i> slowly). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since it was later, and so many people had already finished, grabbing a bite to eat of something other than Sport Beans or post-race snacks in Boston was out of the question. CRB and I bid farewell to my family and made our way to the car to head home. Back in Hudson, I thoroughly enjoyed a draft and dinner at Rail Trail Flatbread Co., proudly wearing my jacket and my medal. Smiling and nodding when other patrons, who realized what that neon jacket meant, asked, "You ran today, right? </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How did you do?</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">" And to the awesome woman who insisted on buying me a beer and/or dessert, much love. I opted for a beer. :)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Since the marathon was right after Easter, I felt a Peeps donut was warranted. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had purchased this shirt in 2013 at the expo, but never wore it. I hadn't had the chance to take that right, and that left. But now, I will wear it with pride.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQG9U_YAUUGm_jiogoHoRKC_3qR39bWrcR1rXGQajSJmbO7C5dVgkkTbNJADo7YQJWOF6YLgmMHShyYQ4YMOIhutit4bihJISphk3qAM43t0SG4lXwKkXgegD-NC2Bz2UFNH2kMyzo-0Wu/s1600/IMG_20140422_120154_112.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQG9U_YAUUGm_jiogoHoRKC_3qR39bWrcR1rXGQajSJmbO7C5dVgkkTbNJADo7YQJWOF6YLgmMHShyYQ4YMOIhutit4bihJISphk3qAM43t0SG4lXwKkXgegD-NC2Bz2UFNH2kMyzo-0Wu/s1600/IMG_20140422_120154_112.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh, and I am now the proud owner of some pretty sweet tan lines. No, I am not wearing red socks. Yes, this is what happens when you forget sunblock on your legs. Oops! (P.S. It is July 20, and I STILL have lines on my legs.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And an amazing gift from my future MIL's friend, Terri. She works for the sign company that makes all the banners for the marathon. She had this made for me. What a wonderful gift. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Everyone has asked, "Will you run it again?" Training for and running a marathon is no joke. I'm not what you would call a "typical" runner. But you know what, I run. And I will run Boston again. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-18484846227465654522014-03-16T08:57:00.001-07:002014-03-16T08:57:53.447-07:00March Musings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here we are - 36 days away from Boston... </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This winter has been harder for me than last year. As far as marathon training goes, it has been one thing after another. A head cold that morphed into a sinus infection, nagging IT band tightness and pain that resulted in a new knee pain, and my stomach now hates me after any run longer than 10 miles. BUT, here's the thing - mentally, I'm in a better place. Last year at this time, I had my first marathon meltdown. Crying, self-doubt, yelling, pity party...yeah, it was NOT one of my finer moments. I feel like I've been able to weather the storm of Boston Marathon training better this year. Sure, I have done less running and have had more pains, but all in all, I'm okay with that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few months ago I made a choice. I decided to keep my head in the right place. What does that mean? Well, I made a conscious decision to keep my mindset positive. Yes, s#!$ happens, but it is all how you handle it. I keep making this choice every day to stay positive about what is going on around me. My results? I feel fantastic. Of course I have had some bumps in the road to a more positive outlook, but I keep coming back to my decision to keep my head on straight, as I like to call it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't be fooled - reality still exists. I don't pretend like everything is sunshine and rainbows all the time. I know this. But I choose to not let negativity get the best of me. We all have choices to make, and I choose to keep moving forward. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just as negativity breeds more negativity, positive attitudes do the same. Positive vibes are contagious. Spread the love. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ok, enough of my soap box for now! :) This week, the <a href="http://www.baa.org/" target="_blank">B.A.A.</a> announced bib numbers and wave/corral assignments. Woohoo!!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Given the increased field size, there are 4 waves of runners - I am in Wave 4, which starts at 11:25 am on Marathon Monday. A little later than the last wave usually goes off, but there are 9,000 more registered runners than last year. Now that I have my number, I am getting excited for Boston. I will run my best, and I will cross that finish line on April 21. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-20583032933165082062013-12-15T16:35:00.001-08:002013-12-15T16:48:21.794-08:00Viva Las Vegas! (or A Dashed PR and a 3-State Moose & M.G. Adventure)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's been a while, folks, did you miss me?? Kidding....I've been up to my eyeballs in work, finishing up school, etc...oh yeah, and the Vegas trip! As you may remember, I didn't get to finish the <a href="http://snapshotsandsweettreats.blogspot.com/2013/04/untitled-on-purpose.html" target="_blank">Boston Marathon last April</a>. The <a href="http://runrocknroll.competitor.com/usa" target="_blank">Rock 'n' Roll Race Series</a> granted those like myself a FREE race entry to any Rock 'n' Roll race held before the end of the year. My Original CRB mentioned she was going to run in Las Vegas. My "bucket list" radar went up (I have never been to Vegas, but have always wanted to go...at least once) and I was in! Another friend who runs for Tedy's Team was going also, so we figured, "Girls' trip! Why not??" </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hagrUT0a31DUDP1nqIg7ARDMGqaeHYot8_ghhrbJnIHTELCBQZUqlKYIM27OZ5pg24g5yJlJ1_s-v1NmC-V9_zciE4n_WTvAz9YZpcELT4SVExNI_kB-d_IuoSBHI07eMhjoRQf5PyKN/s1600/IMG_4302.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5hagrUT0a31DUDP1nqIg7ARDMGqaeHYot8_ghhrbJnIHTELCBQZUqlKYIM27OZ5pg24g5yJlJ1_s-v1NmC-V9_zciE4n_WTvAz9YZpcELT4SVExNI_kB-d_IuoSBHI07eMhjoRQf5PyKN/s1600/IMG_4302.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paris Las Vegas</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Having never been to Vegas, I knew I was in for an experience. Apparently there is no open container laws there, and there are people on every corner handing out cards for call girls. So, as we strolled down the strip with our beverages (because we could!), we were surrounded by bright lights, tourists, and half naked "ladies." Quite the people-watching experience, for sure. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-y2jwu_c7vT6MBh8-da3Q8_QSfpNFAyQhBl8d7ABh-yEBvUcVmIKzcyiNWjqDvIOyO30UhbNqWFX8V0MBk-5gQthn835QmkmolNW2t5vbnHTZjjd45Wp9HYxs8gm2RKiiwzS10rFR_ze/s1600/IMG_4313.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr-y2jwu_c7vT6MBh8-da3Q8_QSfpNFAyQhBl8d7ABh-yEBvUcVmIKzcyiNWjqDvIOyO30UhbNqWFX8V0MBk-5gQthn835QmkmolNW2t5vbnHTZjjd45Wp9HYxs8gm2RKiiwzS10rFR_ze/s1600/IMG_4313.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picking up our race numbers</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We picked up our numbers at the race expo on Saturday, saw the sights there, and then headed back to the hotel to grab dinner and plan for the next day. If there is one this that is certain, you will never go hungry in Vegas. If you can't find a food that suits your fancy, there is probably something wrong with you. Seriously. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqEQyHew0lmYdaxRxA6LOYQRfA2xh0VvMTwfJHEIfYNdOUcmRlXv4ZWOqKihQieDLmSg6kGKDGIdVh3vW8yrnvah0pPHFOCcVHHFsxGbt-1-jjApRDngXNHlqLltGuHOU_LXeopIi0Q8EF/s1600/IMG_4325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqEQyHew0lmYdaxRxA6LOYQRfA2xh0VvMTwfJHEIfYNdOUcmRlXv4ZWOqKihQieDLmSg6kGKDGIdVh3vW8yrnvah0pPHFOCcVHHFsxGbt-1-jjApRDngXNHlqLltGuHOU_LXeopIi0Q8EF/s1600/IMG_4325.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pre-dinner selfie!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On Sunday, we laid low by the pool and prepared for the race, which was at night - difficult since every other long race I have done has been in the morning. I chose the half marathon, where my travel companions were running the full marathon. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The race atmosphere was pretty cool. It started around sunset, and that night there was a full moon. With the moon rising over the mountains, the sun setting, and the bright lights of the strip, the first half of the race flew by! We covered the entire strip and Old Las Vegas, with plenty of singing Elvises and little white chapels along the way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was pacing pretty well, but still wary that I would best my goal time. I felt good, but I knew I was pushing it. I drank at every water station because I was thirsty. Knowing we were in the desert, I felt like I always needed to replenish. My body was used to November in New England - even on a "dry" day it was still more humid than it ever is in Vegas. Around mile 11, things went south. My stomach felt awful, I was getting nauseous, and my hip began to hurt. I slogged along, knowing now that a PR was not going to happen that night. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I finally finished and found some space to sit down (which was bizarre because they shut down all traffic on the strip for the entire afternoon/evening). I plopped down, and my stomach finally staged its revolt. I had a slight chuckle with the girl next to me as she said, "Oh man, I feel the same way," as I watered the bushes with a special water/Gatorade mix. :/ Ugh. I knew D and C weren't going to finish the marathon for a while, so I took my time and found Jav. We both succumbed to the same fate - Late-run/post-run stomach issues. We were a pretty sad looking pair, sitting on a curb looking at the lights and water show at the Bellagio (which was pretty cool, btw). We finally managed to get ourselves up and heading back to our respective hotels, making sure we texted each other that we made it safely to our destination (me, just in time...). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Alas, I did not PR that day. It was actually close to my worst half marathon time of the 7 half marathons that I have run. But I finished, and really, the trip was more about the experience (that's what I keep telling myself anyway).</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DMwF2jFb1WCcQlyRZ7UpW0hIs8ly-1WYvrinFNySfOYcw-ddrN_DgQ6Pof1n39Bx__59rgiWEVRImjPqj1SSgh-nYXSnC9QAGwHejg5VkJoxw64A7htMWzCmjwXGIArkJA8kA5SjcC9V/s1600/IMG_4358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6DMwF2jFb1WCcQlyRZ7UpW0hIs8ly-1WYvrinFNySfOYcw-ddrN_DgQ6Pof1n39Bx__59rgiWEVRImjPqj1SSgh-nYXSnC9QAGwHejg5VkJoxw64A7htMWzCmjwXGIArkJA8kA5SjcC9V/s1600/IMG_4358.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">D had a marathon PR!! Woo hoo! </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next day Chris had a spa day planned with the Tedy's Team ladies, so Dayna and I hit the road to </span><a href="http://www.nps.gov/zion/index.htm" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Zion National Park</a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. Best quote of the day: "This is the antithesis of Vegas." ~D. And it was so true. As we rode out Interstate 15, which is a convenient drive through the upper northwest corner of Arizona into southwestern Utah, the mountains rose up around us. D, a.k.a. photog chic, snapped pics along the way. When it got warm enough, we put the top down (yes, Christine had snagged us a Mustang convertible!) which facilitated capturing the glorious mountains easily. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVv1NbeGTIqAg6HpGVOMc3SXv9mAoB1wWtzeIISje7nvqrklU4ZgUSgThuqUg3dr0rHG4VjFo-ZyB3RTih1hY6BaT9Gjp5q0d5Ke7idKP5X6KmOfKk9oj7b7hB3S6uPf-ZIJjIG0A7kDDO/s1600/IMG_4370.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVv1NbeGTIqAg6HpGVOMc3SXv9mAoB1wWtzeIISje7nvqrklU4ZgUSgThuqUg3dr0rHG4VjFo-ZyB3RTih1hY6BaT9Gjp5q0d5Ke7idKP5X6KmOfKk9oj7b7hB3S6uPf-ZIJjIG0A7kDDO/s1600/IMG_4370.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Warning: gratuitous selfies abound!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UoNS6am0QDt4etlTbmORZjMw3QSeN-ALuyAp5tpgac1S1X3mvTsSQfAbxn0GQb3n1MMCMaK4ernMHsEPBjJqou00kD2BNVI6PTH0RJkDcxdOozi6IEoSdDvX31t7riUnIFanzdpnc6YK/s1600/IMG_4392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UoNS6am0QDt4etlTbmORZjMw3QSeN-ALuyAp5tpgac1S1X3mvTsSQfAbxn0GQb3n1MMCMaK4ernMHsEPBjJqou00kD2BNVI6PTH0RJkDcxdOozi6IEoSdDvX31t7riUnIFanzdpnc6YK/s1600/IMG_4392.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">State #3 of the day - and the second time zone! <br />
Utah = Mountain time, Vegas = Pacific time</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifuhaQfHRqAiyx_BHwgVDSoHWl5R5Ezvi751Oqel8HMRSl7FOrsv4YwPL9FazJMRjdgokZ2By_peoPd1chMt-yq-K8nmmFS3RPXj_xV0D2ToQQIDG3pO9RlcX7sfOZAbjsbkIDe0G5s__/s1600/IMG_4403.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifuhaQfHRqAiyx_BHwgVDSoHWl5R5Ezvi751Oqel8HMRSl7FOrsv4YwPL9FazJMRjdgokZ2By_peoPd1chMt-yq-K8nmmFS3RPXj_xV0D2ToQQIDG3pO9RlcX7sfOZAbjsbkIDe0G5s__/s1600/IMG_4403.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thelma & Louise shot</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjew5CLlvalJbjGlo2B055OLIrRomI9OjVWrwik9vhcBG-wpNveB1FJXDhvI78jo9AahWxIa-Q83eieoyum1UYhBxXkNAc_jTw6R4bDrN-xgFrONCB3kebm9Sp8ppxKxzvEA2x7Uw9hQ5jc/s1600/IMG_4423.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjew5CLlvalJbjGlo2B055OLIrRomI9OjVWrwik9vhcBG-wpNveB1FJXDhvI78jo9AahWxIa-Q83eieoyum1UYhBxXkNAc_jTw6R4bDrN-xgFrONCB3kebm9Sp8ppxKxzvEA2x7Uw9hQ5jc/s1600/IMG_4423.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to Zion </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, we didn't hike that much. Just a little jaunt up Canyon Overlook Trail, took our obligatory "boot" picture, and saw a whole bunch of big horn sheep!</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trust the boot! (or sneaker!)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peek-a-boo!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pictures do NOT do this place justice. At all. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, he was really that close to the road. Just having a little dinner.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And it wouldn't be a Moose and Mountain Goat adventure if we didn't finish our day with beers and nachos.... at <a href="http://www.zioncanyonbrewingco.com/" target="_blank">Zion Canyon Brew Pub</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And even caught a sunset on our way back to Vegas.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, maybe my 7th half marathon wasn't so lucky, but I was definitely lucky to experience a race in Vegas and a gorgeous National Park with great friends! </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-46578295968156230222013-10-21T19:30:00.001-07:002013-10-21T19:34:07.225-07:00Firsts and Nexts<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Over the past year and a half, I have had the privilege of running some "first races" with some of my nearest and dearests. First it was a 5k with Amy in Portland, ME...then a 5K with Derek in Franklin, MA....and this month I got to run another couple firsts: My co-worker/friend Katie ran her first 5k (at one of my favorite races, no less) and a couple friends ran their first half marathons - all in the same weekend! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was so excited for Katie and her first race. After I posted a picture about the <a href="http://huffncuff5k.com/" target="_blank">Huff N Cuff 5k</a> on Facebook, Katie registered! Running your first race at the Huff N Cuff definitely sets the bar high. Truth be told, I am a little biased, since a friend is the race organizer, however it really is an awesome race - great schwag (long-sleeve T and a snazzy pint glass), live music by the talented <a href="http://www.brianrichardmusic.com/" target="_blank">Brian Richard</a>, oh yeah, and free beer. Yup, I said it...free <a href="http://www.wachusettbrew.com/" target="_blank">WACHUSETT</a> beer. Happy girl, right here. (I had to let Katie in on a secret - all races don't have as great a post-race party and race schwag as this race.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway, we had a great time, with exceptional company. And I was super proud of Katie - her first race and a PR no less! </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Katie and I - pre-race! (Yes, blue was the Training Dept. uniform for the day)</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next day was...dun dun dun...Smuttynose. As beautiful as Saturday was, Sunday turned out to be the complete opposite. I should have known, it being Smuttynose and all. As my friend Henry said, "I've run Smuttynose 4-5 times, and it has rained every year I've run." Thanks for jinxing us again, Henry. (Kidding!) Alas, I saddled up the next day with CRB and plans to meet up with at least a few of the dozen or so people I knew running the race. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">CRB and I - ready to run!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was so chilly and windy at the start that I just wanted to get going. We met up with Jessica, who was running her very first half marathon that day (yay Jess!), and found our corral. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, I had planned on going for a PR that day, and for the first 10 miles, I felt like I could do it. Then it happened - tight IT band, lower back pain, knee hurt...I just fell apart. It definitely wasn't my worst half, by a long shot, but it was not the PR I wanted. Next up - Rock'N'Roll Half in VEGAS!! Just have to keep myself healthy and well for a few more weeks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A couple days before my October Race Extravaganza (a.k.a. October 5-6), I received a packet from the B.A.A. It was my "participant" certificate and 2013 race record book. I've said it since April, the B.A.A. has be so classy and amazing in how they have communicated with all involved in the marathon this year. It was overwhelming and emotional to look at these things...the proof that April 15 did actually happen, and it wasn't just a bad dream. Emotions from my first marathon came flooding back. I just sat and stared at it for awhile.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first marathon</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then, a couple weeks later another package arrived. My signed copy of </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Boston40945" target="_blank">4:09:43</a></i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> from </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Hal-Higdons-Marathon/118381048208145" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;" target="_blank">Hal Higdon</a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">. He had emailed the 75 of us to say it was coming. When I picked up my number for the 5k, Henry said, "Hey! You're famous!" I must have had a confused look on my face, because he said, "Hal's book. I read it. You're famous!" I felt humbled that Hal chose my blog and a small piece of my story to tell. I felt more touched that Hal, a runner, told the story of us runners on that day. He felt it. He encapsulated how we felt (at least a small number of us...the true gamut of emotions that day will never be truly understood.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wow. So humbled. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next, I have my sights set on Las Vegas. I want my PR. :) </span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-46018357068173538402013-10-20T16:30:00.001-07:002013-10-20T16:30:33.245-07:00CRB's Birthday and October Happenings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Again, I've been slacking in my blogging! Big things have been happening around here - as in CRB turning the big 3-0 this month! We had a small football/bday/come-see-our-new-place shindig at the end of September, for which I took on my biggest baking challenge to date - I made Jupiter. Yes, you read that correctly. And yes, I am slightly insane. :) </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It all started when he "liked" a picture on Facebook. The picture was posted on the <a href="http://www.space.com/" target="_blank">Space.com</a> website, and it originally came from an Aussie baker's blog, <a href="http://cakecrumbs.me/" target="_blank">Cakecrumbs</a>. I jokingly commented/questioned if he would like that for his birthday cake, his mom seemed to think it was a cool idea, and so it was. Challenge accepted! I had to do a bit of research to find the recipe, and realized that all the measurements were in metrics. Ack! So, after a bit of online searching and recalculating, I had a plan. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This girl on <a href="http://cakecrumbs.me/2013/07/24/jupiter-structural-layer-cake/" target="_blank">Cakecrumbs</a> really is amazing. Her recipe and instructions were spot on. Here is what I did....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">First, make the center core of Jupiter (which is a rock core, scientifically speaking, of course) as a chocolate mud cake. It was a dense chocolate cake, baked in 1-cup glass prep bowls.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Step 1 - Jupiter's core</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next up was the layer of "liquid, metallic hydrogen".... well, let's just go with a white sponge cake. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJLwOrOaFDqkQifoDVKTe2SockDjmkl9oQ-RRvyyjmU9Yb1qS1gWTWuy9_VcEpgPpCfrU59KNaIzG5G8EuiaYUvPv0aWFeOVooxrOoKx9T0EU772mkrU9ycrhBH61kXiqlXPcp_szG0AK/s1600/IMG_4160.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJLwOrOaFDqkQifoDVKTe2SockDjmkl9oQ-RRvyyjmU9Yb1qS1gWTWuy9_VcEpgPpCfrU59KNaIzG5G8EuiaYUvPv0aWFeOVooxrOoKx9T0EU772mkrU9ycrhBH61kXiqlXPcp_szG0AK/s1600/IMG_4160.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Put the rock/ice core in the white layer - hemisphere pan did the trick for this part.<br /><div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Last layer, "molecular hydrogen"...so blue sponge cake works here</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQuJFdimjm4wOeu3-dqC8s0D4S3KpV4m-TIT_PMUFozf9GbWzC2Fhq8IYilY4Hk-Ks4cSF8jokUWj7bRfENXA8OyToAgFAXc_itVl3TC76qtvszzrMZyu_53lAFmr-7Q_R11wNNT3MsLIe/s1600/IMG_4161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQuJFdimjm4wOeu3-dqC8s0D4S3KpV4m-TIT_PMUFozf9GbWzC2Fhq8IYilY4Hk-Ks4cSF8jokUWj7bRfENXA8OyToAgFAXc_itVl3TC76qtvszzrMZyu_53lAFmr-7Q_R11wNNT3MsLIe/s1600/IMG_4161.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, it is a little well done. The crusty edges come off in the shaping process.</td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />Ultimately, I baked 4 times - center, middle layer, then outer layer twice, since I didn't have two pans big enough for the blue outer layer. I was toast after 5 hours of baking, so I left the assembly and decoration for the next day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I shaped both hemispheres, trying to get them as round as possible. Using my Grammy's buttercream frosting recipe, I used that as glue between the two halves, did a thin crumb coat, let that dry, then did a thicker smooth coat of icing.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3v4CWUp7PMlhG2FrOQOlVHB23ylTy5DWEcsu0RoLGMvGLiJWZ6XkOM-a0T4urVoS-1KsDN7_SPj5lx6a-v2oB59855eiwZy6qW8e3Kmp96lVPPxNrU7SzYcaCUYo06SdhAcg4ryoz8Ed7/s1600/IMG_4163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3v4CWUp7PMlhG2FrOQOlVHB23ylTy5DWEcsu0RoLGMvGLiJWZ6XkOM-a0T4urVoS-1KsDN7_SPj5lx6a-v2oB59855eiwZy6qW8e3Kmp96lVPPxNrU7SzYcaCUYo06SdhAcg4ryoz8Ed7/s1600/IMG_4163.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crumb coat <br />(please ignore the mess behind the cake! lol!)</td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the smooth coat of frosting dried, I set to work on making Jupiter look like, well, Jupiter. I thinned some frosting with almond milk, and added some orange and brown gel icing coloring. I then painted on the stripes and swirls of the largest planet. And of course, the Great Spot too!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAh5POVEVCTZVLDtd7iJlf_rEc_5JReXEcToo258PHCiIhhy9I_oRQ8XnTaorRntScpXYqVxXj4wQywvV4PxLRstNa_moT_N_FvFRFvIHhhV-7T4FvrlqAUKikZSwGv6eoLCfKI4Z-xuoz/s1600/IMG_4166.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAh5POVEVCTZVLDtd7iJlf_rEc_5JReXEcToo258PHCiIhhy9I_oRQ8XnTaorRntScpXYqVxXj4wQywvV4PxLRstNa_moT_N_FvFRFvIHhhV-7T4FvrlqAUKikZSwGv6eoLCfKI4Z-xuoz/s1600/IMG_4166.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssJbCkuyxYPgAE_olluzBsXAT77V720wIVbNXNUdD9A3EJa3sHXQAA5ZJGIgiOuW9-rB4bhobNbahNNFEQU5PBvbv8405y8HxWKU_NORRXDGT-CI4U0cN8PI67bM2pHIKeWjTQQ_eg5X5/s1600/IMG_4167.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhssJbCkuyxYPgAE_olluzBsXAT77V720wIVbNXNUdD9A3EJa3sHXQAA5ZJGIgiOuW9-rB4bhobNbahNNFEQU5PBvbv8405y8HxWKU_NORRXDGT-CI4U0cN8PI67bM2pHIKeWjTQQ_eg5X5/s1600/IMG_4167.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ta da!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And what did the Birthday Boy think??</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxqH_sZBEzi56PZRzgk18c01zUq1Y4wX42BJiXyhMV59ANnffmtVoWOtNEmPtL7eL2lM6cGJQ7NqTern2eKvFh5LvBtVq4HtwOIUfUnPICza_S8Riep-eHKp_Bak6eTF7KwXQbIGFAcDu/s1600/Derek's+cake1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDxqH_sZBEzi56PZRzgk18c01zUq1Y4wX42BJiXyhMV59ANnffmtVoWOtNEmPtL7eL2lM6cGJQ7NqTern2eKvFh5LvBtVq4HtwOIUfUnPICza_S8Riep-eHKp_Bak6eTF7KwXQbIGFAcDu/s1600/Derek's+cake1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think he likes it! (Photo credit to CRB's Mom, Judy)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWxoOL_iHfic4p6FiJsuZmtckDAnDu4UxO-X1fLw5-MyCPIqRzS_56XDCzS8nHBc9hUJxA0cap6oHBVNmjyOjn23EV03oRu2FE8W9yCiA9gjgD6GoblsVBdAgHaUnIrJbXhPkYjpc_9Bbv/s1600/Derek's+cake3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWxoOL_iHfic4p6FiJsuZmtckDAnDu4UxO-X1fLw5-MyCPIqRzS_56XDCzS8nHBc9hUJxA0cap6oHBVNmjyOjn23EV03oRu2FE8W9yCiA9gjgD6GoblsVBdAgHaUnIrJbXhPkYjpc_9Bbv/s1600/Derek's+cake3.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And the inside (Again, thanks Judy for the pictures)</td></tr>
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<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next weekend, we had the Smuttynose half marathon. The one where I wanted to PR. Well, not in the cards for this girl. I had an awful head cold for about two weeks prior to the race, didn't get much running in, and didn't feel 100% that day. Oh yeah, and it was raining. Again. Just like last year. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">More to come on my October racing...which involved another few "first races" for a few of my friends. Stay tuned....</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-26419274395992063002013-08-23T20:11:00.001-07:002013-08-23T20:11:31.143-07:00Reflecting and healing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I just finished reading Hal Higdon's <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00ELO70OA/ref=oh_d__o00_details_o00__i00?ie=UTF8&psc=1" target="_blank">4:09:43: The Boston Marathon Bombings</a>, </i>his compilation of stories and accounts from that day. April 15. As I read, I ran the course again in my mind. I remember almost all parts of the day vividly. Some parts were surreal, as if my mind's eye was outside looking in. As if my soul was outside my body, looking on, telling me what to do next. And that feeling was there even before the bombs went off. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">April 15 was an emotional day to begin with. I kept thinking of my Papa, and of the arduous 18 weeks that had lead up to that day. When I decided to run and, my original CRB and kindred spirit had warned me: <i>You will have a meltdown, if not more than one. It will be one of, if not the hardest thing you will do. </i> And she was right. I had a meltdown the night before a 14-miler, about a month before the big day. It wasn't one of my prouder moments. But I pushed through. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When Marathon Monday arrived, I told myself to remember everything. Remember what you see, what you hear...this may be the only time you do this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Reading Hal's book, I re-ran the entire day. Mine started early in Hudson, when CRB and I awoke early and he drove me to Hopkinton. As I read, I relived each mile through the stories shared. I remember the wave of emotion that flowed over me as I trotted over that painted line next to Hopkinton Green. I remember all the <a href="http://snapshotsandsweettreats.blogspot.com/2013/04/sunshine-on-cloudy-day.html" target="_blank">amazing things I saw</a> on my way from Hopkington to Boston. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I feel fortunate that I live and work close enough to the epic route that I tend to drive it from time to time. Today I drove along 135 from Westborough to Ashland, so of course I went through Hopkington center. The surge of emotion that came when I drove over the starting line, down the hill toward Ashland, is the same as it has been the last few times I have driven over that line. It is close to what I felt when I traversed it on foot. It happens every time. I zone out - remembering sights and sounds of the day. I couldn't tell you what was on my radio, how much traffic was on the road, or why I was going to Ashland. At that point in time, I was back on April 15. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That day changed us. It changed our memories, our reactions.... Conversations come up at parties, dinners out, seemingly casual conversations about what happened, how crowds freak us out, how the sounds of fireworks and helicopters always make us tense up and take pause. We are all still thinking about it, whether we let on or not. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have never met the other people whose stories Hal included in <i>4:09:43</i>, yet we are all connected. I feel fortunate that he included my story, although there are thousands of stories that will take years to be told (Hal's words, my agreement). Janeen Bergstrom summed it up accurately: "All that time. All that sacrifice. Everything you do is for that moment, the moment of stepping on the mat. And it never came. But the lack of accomplishment and the emptiness I feel is compounded by the guilt."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hal, you did good, fellow runner. You captured our memories and nightmares from that day, and gave the oft unspoken running community a voice. The body and tail of the serpent, snaking its way 26 miles and 385 yards, not the head finishing with the laurel crowns and prize money. Those who struggled to attain a qualifying time, or those who qualified themselves by fundraising thousands and thousands of dollars for their selected charities (I, in the latter population). Tears fell as I read and reread sections. You incorporated our stories with bits of history that anyone could appreciate - runners, non-runners, locals and visitors.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Amby Burfoot's closing quote is spot on: "Our institutions did not become great by following a path of timidity and cowardice. We can only hope that the Boston Marathon, though pummeled, will rise again stronger than before." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We will. I will. I will be there in 2014. </span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-68647282024742489992013-08-23T14:49:00.002-07:002013-08-23T14:49:16.266-07:00Tempus fugit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've been delinquent in my blogging lately - well, for the past 2 months actually! I was in a bit of a funk....ok, maybe more than that. I went on vacation with CRB to Cape Cod, went to a concert, broke my toe, didn't run for a month.... So, I guess I've had a lot going on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Vacation was great. We spent the week hanging around the world-renowned beaches of Dennis, visited with my family, toured <a href="http://trurovineyardsofcapecod.com/index.php" target="_blank">Truro Vineyards</a>, and made our annual climb to the top of the <a href="http://www.pilgrim-monument.org/" target="_blank">Pilgrim Monument</a> in Provincetown. Oh, and of course ate our way through the Cape - oysters, fish & chips, chowder, quahogs - you name it, we ate it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We were there for the week encompassing the 4th of July. I couldn't help but think about Papa a lot. I have vivid memories of Independence Day up at camp: rides in the boat, water skiing, staying in the lake until our fingers resembled raisins, and Uncle Rob shooting off the best fireworks displays on the whole lake. </span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzn42edDg5rKe2_5z9oZezVa7bi-kt7vFM9-2YPcbiTxG_KGkGDARAeLJEI5B3F9JTb2HACjf1CS6ldfRdRSAPpLs0Ws6zuKEPc2cOKNMIz4FbPo3y20C8YvENX9pvRG3TK7WR9PR5Qjpr/s1600/amanda+and+papa+camp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzn42edDg5rKe2_5z9oZezVa7bi-kt7vFM9-2YPcbiTxG_KGkGDARAeLJEI5B3F9JTb2HACjf1CS6ldfRdRSAPpLs0Ws6zuKEPc2cOKNMIz4FbPo3y20C8YvENX9pvRG3TK7WR9PR5Qjpr/s1600/amanda+and+papa+camp.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Papa and yours truly circa 1983 @ Camp in Ashburnham, MA</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Papa always said that July 4th was the end of summer. Memorial Day starts it, and it's all downhill after July 4th. Us kids would groan because we had not even been on summer break for a month. Now, as I am staring down the end of August, I realize what he meant. It does go by so fast. The last 4, almost 5, months have passed quickly, yet it seems just like yesterday we said goodbye to one of the greatest men I know. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Between missing Papa and not running for about a month, I had a rough time. We went to the Jason Aldean concert at Fenway in July, where I proceeded to trip over a girl who stopped coming out of the ladies room, catch my baby toe on the corner of a cement wall, and break it. Yup, silly little broken toe. (Or little sausage toe as I called it, because once it swelled up, it looked like a little sausage! I can laugh now, but then I had a vocabulary that would have made Papa *very* disappointed!)</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ll6XrR3-KZr0IPTMBtc9tRQrs0NbbIOrnURvPv-MlCH97oqBb3wmXLrG4oKaXkC56XbKmMtoaiF5PaYmYuoNZphpMWQg1y4uhB_4sZEq2LTSwV6oUiCei-OtldsQlt5Nt5meAdQON69O/s1600/toe+day+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3ll6XrR3-KZr0IPTMBtc9tRQrs0NbbIOrnURvPv-MlCH97oqBb3wmXLrG4oKaXkC56XbKmMtoaiF5PaYmYuoNZphpMWQg1y4uhB_4sZEq2LTSwV6oUiCei-OtldsQlt5Nt5meAdQON69O/s1600/toe+day+1.jpg" height="200" width="112" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rather purple and sausage-like</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That did it. I couldn't run for nearly a month. I was 4 weeks out from the Monadnock Half Marathon in Jaffrey, NH, which I was really looking forward to running. I moped for a week and a half, feeling like a sad puppy when CRB went out for a run and I stayed at home, peering out the window waiting for him to get back. I couldn't even wear shoes let alone run a few miles. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I tried running after about a week and a half after I broke it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Note to runners with broken toes: THIS IS NOT A GOOD IDEA. IT SUCKS, BUT YOU HAVE TO WAIT IT OUT. There. I moped for a few more days, then dragged myself to Bikram yoga. It felt good to use my muscles. My balance was not spectacular given the inability to stabilize my right foot, but boy did it feel good to sweat and push myself. I returned to Bikram four days in a row (!) and felt better and better. By the middle of the next week, I gave it a go. Four weeks of waiting...it felt good!! Little twinges occasionally, but the toe was better. I ended up switching to the 5k trail run instead of the half, so at least I got to race that weekend. Yipee! Then a week later I ran 7 miles..and felt great! Yipee again! SO, I am back on track for the <a href="http://www.hamptonrockfest.com/" target="_blank">Smuttynose Half Marathon</a> in October. I have a goal to PR this race, and hopefully break 2 hours. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In other exciting news... The <a href="http://www.baa.org/" target="_blank">B.A.A.</a> was in communication with the 5,633 of us who did not get to finish the marathon. We all got a special code to register this week. And I did. I am in for the 118th running of the Boston Marathon on April 21, 2014. I can't believe that I will begin training for my second marathon in just a few months. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXW_yFnRQVFDsLT9Tee2CBMP6hWmbWz6292nTHxLeqgHa4c1szeia_6WS9ojqHYEYn_DzEjG6rWIwlB2SLBsbT_JTwg6-2bkezyD4-W0OXTLTnbqr4_DJeji1nTu0t_bzRUxHNkU53ShUs/s1600/registration+accepted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXW_yFnRQVFDsLT9Tee2CBMP6hWmbWz6292nTHxLeqgHa4c1szeia_6WS9ojqHYEYn_DzEjG6rWIwlB2SLBsbT_JTwg6-2bkezyD4-W0OXTLTnbqr4_DJeji1nTu0t_bzRUxHNkU53ShUs/s1600/registration+accepted.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I will finish this race. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-42522762170539454592013-06-22T08:41:00.001-07:002013-06-22T08:41:04.599-07:00Trial and Error<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This week I *finally* had a few good runs! Last week, I struggled through each and every run. As I slogged through the streets of town I said I hated running. To which my CRB replied, "No, you don't. You're doing great!" (Then I might have reverted to my 5 year old self and initiated a "yeah I do!" "No, you don't" back and forth with CRB for the next half mile. Hey, we all have our moments...) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Alas, I broke through. This week, I had a few GREAT runs, including one workout on the track. My goal for the Smuttynose half marathon in October is to PR. Really, I not only want to PR, but I want to shave almost 10 minutes off my best time to break 2 hours. To do this, as my more seasoned runner friends and bloggers have attested, I must do speed work. Not my favorite activity, since at one point in recent memory, just running a couple miles was enough of a challenge. Well, since I have run a couple dozen 5ks, 5 half marathons, and a (almost) marathon, I guess I can consider myself a "real" runner. I need to suck it up and do what I know (and hope!) will work - running 5x400s, tempo runs, and the like. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I learned a few things this week... </span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Verdana;">I feel like a hamster on a wheel when I run around a track (probably explains why, in my VERY short stint in high school track, I never ran more than the 100 or 200 meter events!)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Running around said track is much more tolerable when I have company (Thanks, CRB!)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Although I LOVE my shoe collection, I must not wear my cute heels to work too often (high heels = leg pain while running = no bueno!)</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana;">and foam rolling is SO much better when accompanied with a glass (or 3) of wine. ;) </span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">SO much of running is trial and error. What works for one, may not work for all. While I am clearly not an expert, that's what I have learned. You can take suggestions and ideas from other runners, but you have to figure out what works for you. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Like foam rolling + wine....works for me! ;) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Happy Running!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-1581182361228033692013-06-13T17:58:00.000-07:002013-06-13T17:59:54.003-07:00Summer in a Bowl<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, I haven't posted much about my forays in the kitchen lately. And in truth, I haven't had many! CRB (Chief Running Buddy) and I recently moved into a new place, and between running, work, packing, unpacking, etc, I hadn't much time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Now, I don't think I mentioned this to y'all, but I volunteer for Habitat for Humanity on the Family Selection Committee in my local affiliate. They are a wonderful group of ladies with whom I have the pleasure of spending a few hours a month. We haven't had a social activity in a while, so our co-chairwoman, Rosemary, invited us all to her gorgeous house for dinner last Friday night. At the request of a few, I made a lemon raspberry trifle (aka, summer in a bowl). It is so light, the perfect mix of sweet and tart.....just delicious! Many thanks to my friend Laura P. who originally shared this recipe with me. Share the sunshine - pass it on!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The beauty of this dessert (besides the luscious layers) is that it comes together SO quickly. My CRB even wandered into the kitchen while I was constructing this and commented on how fast I made it. It is easy - angel food cake, raspberries (fresh and frozen), and a lemon cream mixture that makes it very tempting to lick the bowl....just sayin'...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Alrighty - without further ado, the recipe!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;"><strong>Lemon Raspberry Trifle</strong></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1 tsp lemon extract</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1 - 14 oz. can of sweetened condensed milk</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1 - 8 oz. lemon yogurt</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">2 tsp grated lemon peel </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1/3 cup lemon juice</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">2 cups whipped topping (Cool Whip, or if you are like me, store brand!)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1 angel food cake</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">1 package frozen raspberries</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">2 pints fresh raspberries</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Combine the first six ingredients (extract through whipped topping) in a medium-sized bowl. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Thaw frozen raspberries and combine with one pint of fresh raspberries. Sweeten to taste, if desired (I usually don't add any sugar, since I like the tart/sweet mix).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Cut the angel cake into 1" cubes and arrange one layer on the bottom of a trifle bowl.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Spoon half of the lemon cream mixture on top of the cake. Spread evenly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Spoon fresh/thawed raspberries for the next layer.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Repeat layer of angel cake and lemon cream.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Top with pint of fresh raspberries, and toasted coconut or powdered sugar, if desired. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">TIP: If you are assembling this the day before serving, do a layer of cake, thin layer of lemon cream, raspberries, another thin layer of lemon cream, then angel cake, remaining lemon cream, and raspberries. This way the angel cake doesn't soak up all the juice from the raspberries.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I made this before raspberries were *really* in season, and if you live in the northeast like I do, fresh raspberries are SO expensive. So I bought 3 - 6 oz. packages of fresh raspberries and two packages of frozen. Two fresh went in with the frozen, and the last package of fresh went on the top. I also use low fat yogurt and whipped topping, but feel free to do whatever suits your taste! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I hope you enjoy this bowl of summer....I know it was a hit over here!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Mangia!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-75895188837386613692013-05-15T09:57:00.000-07:002013-05-23T17:07:38.713-07:00Catharsis<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #1f497d; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><div class="snum">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;"><span class="main-fl"><em>noun</em></span> <span class="pr">\kə-<span class="unicode">ˈ</span>thär-səs\</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1<span class="ssens"><strong>:</strong></span> purgation</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;">2 <span class="ssens"><em class="sn">a</em><strong>:</strong> purification or purgation of the emotions (as pity and fear) primarily through art </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="ssens"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <em class="sn">b</em><strong>:</strong> a purification or purgation that brings about spiritual renewal or release from tension </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: #660000;">3<span class="ssens"><strong>:</strong> elimination of a complex by bringing it to consciousness and affording it expression </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="ssens"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(from </span><a href="http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/catharsis" target="_blank"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Merriam-Webster</span></a><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> online)</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While not "artful" in a way many would think is, I had a catch up and debrief session with my kindred spirit last week, and it was cathartic for me. We both ran on April 15. We both were less than a mile from the finish, she a bit closer to the painted line than I. We had not seen each other since before the marathon. Our meeting over margaritas and nachos was much needed, for both of us. (Side note: Best quote of the night: ME: "Wow. The bartender has a heavy hand." D: "I want to go hug him.") </span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We relived our experiences from that day (one month ago today, strange to think) - laughed, cried, cursed (a lot), worked through the emotions of the day and the residual feelings that keep flowing in waves, discussed the bonds that were forged, and tried to solve all the world's problems.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The night before, I went into Boston for the first time since the marathon. I was going to the Sox game with another friend, and thinking traffic wouldn't be too bad (ha!) I opted to go in via Storrow Drive, and onto Comm Ave. As I creeped through traffic exiting Storrow, it hit me. I looked to my left - Charlesgate. The underpass. This is where I stopped, where I was told I wouldn't be able to finish my journey, where the feeling of being lost started. I had been feeling pretty good - physically, mentally.... but now I was sad. I can't describe it, really, and I guess sad is the best word I can come up with. Sad, empty, lost.... </span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It turned chilly that night at America's Most Beloved Ballpark. I wore my Boston Marathon jacket. It got some second looks from people. Speaking of, does anyone else notice that? It is starting to become less frequent/obvious, but at first, when I wore my jacket out places, people would look at me a little differently. Not mean or anything, but almost with a look of sympathy...empathy....pity? Maybe I was reading into it too much. Too observant. Maybe? It was those sympathetic/pity looks that almost made me take the jacket off. Why? I didn't want to feel guilty. I was unharmed. My family was unharmed. But the confident, selfish part of me wanted to say, "Look what I did! I ran! Really far! Yeah, you should feel bad that I didn't finish!" I deserve to proudly wear that jacket. And I do. I purchased a "Right on Hereford, Left on Boylston" shirt at the expo. That is one marathon-related clothing item I still can't put on... because I didn't take that right, and that left...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, I keep adventuring. I keep running. This weekend I am running the </span><a href="http://ma.rtbrelay.com/race.php" target="_blank"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Reach the Beach Relay</span></a><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> from Wachusett Mtn. to Westport, MA, with my sister-in-law and a bunch of awesome ladies. I am 100% looking forward to no sleep, 200 miles (22.5 of which I will run) over a day+, irregular eating/sleeping schedules, and the general craziness that comes with 12 girls in 2 vans. True story. See ya in Westport!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-50687330013955072322013-04-27T19:38:00.002-07:002013-04-29T07:14:31.415-07:00The process of processing.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It has been 12 days since my body and soul journeyed from Hopkinton to Boston - it feels like it was yesterday, but it also feel like lifetimes ago. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yesterday, I finished reading "<a href="http://www.amazon.com/26-Miles-Boston-Experience-Hopkinton/dp/1585748285" target="_blank">26 Miles to Boston</a>," by Michael Connelly. I had high hopes of finishing the book before I ran the marathon, but it wasn't in the cards given my crazy life lately. So, last week, I set out to finishing what I started. As I read, I ran through the miles with the author - reliving the sights I saw, some were the same as he saw 17 years ago (he ran the marathon in the 100th anniversary year), commiserating with him at certain "pain points" on the course.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">It has been 12 days, and while my body is healed, my soul is still a work in progress. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">It has been 20 and a half days since my Papa died. One of the last things he told me was how proud of me he was that I was running "the B.A.A. marathon." He said, "You're going to run, and you'll do your best. Your best is good enough for me." Papa wasn't a runner, but his heart was always in sports, just as much as us grandkids playing those sports. He appreciated sports - for the sportsmanship, perseverance, and dedication. I know he was proud of me for what I accomplished on marathon day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I have been overwhelmed with people being proud of me, congratulating me, asking about my story, where I was, how far I got, and the big question: Did I finish? When I say no, I was around mile 25.5 when the officials told us to stop, their immediate response is, "oh, but you finished. You would have. You deserve the medal." And I know I would have finished. I had enough gas in the tank to get myself there. But I didn't have the chance. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">"Too close to home." Too close is my best friend having stood right where one explosion happened, but needing to nourish herself and the little life inside her, they went to grab some lunch. Too close is my friend's mom, positioned on Boylston Street to cheer her daughter to the finish, when explosions happen to her left and right. Too close is a friend who completed 2 Boston Marathons and whose job it is to guard that evil kid in the federal medical facility. Too close is being 0.7 miles from the finish line....that silly line of paint in front of the Boston Public Library....that line which millions may dream of crossing, yet a relatively small population can actually state with pride that they have done that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">That's why I feel lost...still... like an unresolved minor chord, just ........hanging....... My major resolution hasn't come. People who don't run or weren't there don't get it. And I don't mean that maliciously, just as they don't mean their comments and reassurance maliciously. That painted line on Boylston Street is the Holy Grail of running. And I didn't get that. I don't want anyone to think for a minute that I am diminishing what happened that day. People died, lost limbs, and their lives will never be the same. My heart breaks for those who were injured, and those who saw the chaos up close. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">One of the last paragraphs in Michael Connelly's book really sums it up. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">"Twenty-six miles and 385 yards. The start in Hopkinton seems as through it took place weeks ago. The runners lived each yard one at a time. As each step was completed, it became a distant memory while each yard in front seemed to stretch farther away. The cold, the heat, the rain, the snow, the traffic, the spilled beers, the car fumes - all for this euphoric feeling of crossing a simple line. The runs in the morning, at lunch, in the dark, past the chasing dogs, the puddle-splashing cars, the cars that pull out onto the crosswalk, the cars that played chicken with you - all for this euphoric feeling of crossing a simple line.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Of course it's not a simple line. It's a mental and physical barrier that, when conquered, offers a feeling of exaltation that is incomparable." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">One of many reasons why I will run next year.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-60161488638380815512013-04-19T03:31:00.000-07:002013-05-23T17:08:36.683-07:00Sunshine on a cloudy day<div dir="ltr" id="internal-source-marker_0.20512510059654748" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some sights and thoughts from my perspective on Monday....</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Crowds along the start line</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The fiddlers at Weston Nurseries....</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Loud and awesome crowd at TJ’s in Ashland...</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Donna P. at her house in Ashland...with her sign :)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1000-marathon Larry in Framingham - “Way to go, Larry!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">80+ lady...you rock. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Meeting Don and Melissa from Team NF in Framingham, after the train station</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Firefighters on the ladder truck over the intersection on 135 - cheering us on from the best seat in the house</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Garage band getting some exposure...cheering on everyone....</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Aunt Kathy and Janet in Natick....right after Speen St.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Seeing a few fellow Anselmians running</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sox game on the radio</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Guy on the porch with a full drum set....rocking out...</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The MSB crew on 135 near the center of town...with signs!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Maria, Linds, and Lukasz at Natick Center - and a big hug!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kristen and the boys in Natick</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Wellesley scream tunnel....never felt more like a rock star...</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Amy D. at mile 14. A shriek and a huge hug...and some water. :)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Brian and Kelsey at MSB Wellesley... “Look! We made you a sign!!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kesha soon after...”Oh! There she is!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Our guys” at Newton-Wellesley Hospital - Derek and Dad...then Fred and Catherine right over the hill....</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The 3 Marines: 1 visually impaired, 2 guides. awesome. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The “burger people” around us most of the way</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The girl dribbling a basketball the entire way. amazing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Right turn like an airplane....up the hills....</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jo, Ro, and Steve on “the” hill..mile 21-ish....Ro: ”Run for me, Keeps!” Me: “Ro, I want ice cream!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Never been so happy to see BC</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Down into the city.... feeling pretty good...</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Brookline - Hi Suz!! </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Random strangers cheering us on by name.....</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Turn a corner....Citgo sign.</span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-size: 15px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="color: #660000; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">almost there.....</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-6066852246042937652013-04-16T19:02:00.003-07:002013-04-16T19:02:55.647-07:00Untitled Two<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, we stopped after mile 25. I made friends with a girl next to me, Casey, and learned it was her first marathon too. She was supposed to meet her boyfriend on St. James Ave (ironically, where my brother works). We just kept walking. I remember saying I wanted to keep walking as long as they let me go, and I needed to find my family. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">We found Mom, Dad, Derek, Andy, and Jen - and then Christine. I just broke down. We were so close, and someone with a point to prove or a higher power to bow down to ruined it. They ruined it for 4500+ of us. We had worked so hard.... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">We walked on - trying to find cell service, get a call or text message out.... my cell battery died, so I couldn't talk to anyone. My brother was able to post on Facebook to let our small world know that we were ok. I was just hoping that the others I knew in town were ok too. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I felt lost...even after I found my family, and mom made some calls to other relatives... I still feel lost. What do we do? We rally, we come together, we support each other...isn't that what running is about? The camaraderie, mutual love for punishing ourselves, bragging rights...? I had hopes of going to work today, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't process all of this. I think I am, but I am not sure...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">We united with Fred and Catherine in the lobby of Andy's building, but I still hadn't heard from Bobbie, Andy, and that group. What I learned later was they were so close on Boylston St., ended up in the basement of Uno's restaurant until the staff there could see if it was safe for everyone.... I can't even imagine what they were feeling. I just am thankful the people I know and love are safe. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">My brother texted me a picture this afternoon that brought on such emotion I was a mess - he got my medal for me. His text said, "In my eyes, you finished. I got your medal for you." I cannot begin to decribe the pride I have in my brother, my family, my friends.... I have no words. I love you all. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">As I try to wrap my mind around what happened, I want to ask "why?" over and over again. But I know I can ask that forever and still not understand. I can be angry. I can be indignant. But honestly, I am sad. The running communities are so supportive of each other - it doesn't matter what country you are from, what color you are, what age/size/shape you are....that is just how it is. I will run again next year. I know this. And I will cross the finish line. Because I deserve to...we all deserve to. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Peace, my friends. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-33098858596805684462013-04-16T18:43:00.001-07:002013-09-03T06:32:17.166-07:00Untitled (on purpose)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I sit and write this post while so many thoughts and emotions swirling through my mind. Yesterday began as probably the biggest day of my life - I was running the Boston Marathon. I had trained hard, rode the roller coaster of emotions that come with training for a marathon (that you don't realize until you actually do it), had to say goodbye to my grandfather the week before, and now I was ready to run. I had Papa's hankie in my shorts pocket. He was with me...keeping an eye on me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I walked down the street to meet up with Christine and Tedy's Team. And I not only got to meet Tedy Bruschi, but I got a hug from him too! Yes, it was awesome. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christine, our new BFF Tedy, and Amanda</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We all walked down the street to join the rest of the masses heading toward the corrals. After a bit of jostling with the race "hall monitors" we were in our corral and ready to go. We walked-sort of jogged across the start line and began our journey to Boston. Little did we know what a journey it would be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">After a quick potty stop and wardrobe adjustment (for me) in Ashland, we came upon my colleague Donna in front of her house. It was awesome to see an excited, supportive face so early on. :) </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">We trotted along, checking off the miles and towns as we went along. I saw my aunt Kathy and her friend Janet in Natick. As we approached Natick center, I knew I had a cheering section here - all my MSB people! I saw Sally holding a neon green sign, Andrea manning the camera, and many other familiar faces. Soon after, I saw my cousins - Maria, Lindsey, and Lukasz. They were lucky enough to get a big, sweaty hug from yours truly. I'm sure they were pleased. :P Natick was a big spot for fans, as we saw Kristen and the boys next (aka, the biggest NF contingent ever!). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I enjoyed the flats of Natick into Wellesley, although by now I was struggling. Things hurt - my legs, hips, and this nagging cramp in my side that just would not go away. It was getting warmer too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Soon came Wellesley and the "scream tunnel" at the college. What an experience. Those girls are amazing. I got a much needed boost there. We were looking forward to seeing Amy at the mile 14 water stop. As soon as she saw us we got a thrilled shriek and a huge hug!! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Onward - past the MSB Wellesley branch - thanks to Brian and Kelsey for the sign!! And then Kesha around mile 15. Next, we knew "our guys" were going to be at Newton-Wellesley Hospital. Honestly, by now, even though I was ready to be done with running, the time had passed rather quickly. We went up and over 128/95 and down the small hill until the hospital was in sight. Then we saw Dad and Derek - so excited to see us - both wielding their cameras! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXVn06ejEfCc6wUgCPJ0oAHB4A7JjDMv30joR2Bb28kI9R6sNS9DoIQJA0AutZiGNQveZ1D_bPjcXupRStERR-F2N65AWssb2ukpymZU5h7-NsvpuF31nhQSfoEHid8-c9SHGjScBwhkE/s1600/IMG_3795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXVn06ejEfCc6wUgCPJ0oAHB4A7JjDMv30joR2Bb28kI9R6sNS9DoIQJA0AutZiGNQveZ1D_bPjcXupRStERR-F2N65AWssb2ukpymZU5h7-NsvpuF31nhQSfoEHid8-c9SHGjScBwhkE/s1600/IMG_3795.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then we saw Fred and Catherine and paused for a photo shoot with them. And we continued on toward "the hills." Taking the corner onto Comm Ave, I felt it. My body was talking - no, yelling at - to me. I was struggling. I knew Jo would be at the top of Heartbreak, if I could only make it. I kept chugging. I had to. We saw Jo, Ro, and Steve around mile 21 (I think...) and Ro kept screaming, "Run for me, Keeps!" See, Ro always runs Boston, and this year she withdrew because of a nagging injury. I was so excited to see her there. To pay homage to her, I demanded ice cream. ;) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I remember saying, "I've never been so happy to see BC in my life." And then I finally felt ok. I felt like I could do this. Up until then, I had this nagging self doubt: Could I, really? I couldn't find my pace, I didn't settle in, I didn't feel comfortable....but now, after cresting that hill, I knew I could do this. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Descending into the city from Eagle territory, the mood changed a bit. More spectators and police were on their cell phones. People seemed on edge. There were still plenty of cheering fans...but something was....off... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I had written my name on the front of my shirt the night before, so I had become accustomed to 22+ miles of "Go Amanda!" "You're doing great, Amanda!"....so when I heard a voice yell, "Go Amanda Cancellieri!" I turned quickly...it was Suzanna, my brother's friend from Holy Cross, and amazing photographer!! It was such a great surprise! Thanks Suz!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">On we went...Chris still feeling good, me, well, I was alternating between walking and running.... I knew it would come to this, but I was hoping I would feel better. My mentality was that I would rather make the decision to walk, rather than my body making the choice for me. And that's where I was. Another couple miles ticked by, and between 23 and 24, the sirens started... police motorcycles, unmarked cars, and I'm sure a few off duty officers sped by us... At the 40k electronic checkpoint, they were already starting to pull the wires up off the street. Race officials and volunteers had a cautious look of panic on their faces. Something was up. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Making it past mile 25, past Fenway and Kenmore, onto Comm Ave., people were stopping. People were saying to stop running...that it was over... the marathon was done. We would not be able to finish. There were two explosions near the finish line on Boylston St. I had less than a mile to go.....less than a mile...</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-69336660548749592512013-03-28T08:24:00.001-07:002013-03-28T08:24:08.979-07:00AEG showing us some love..Burn Brightly style!!<p dir=ltr><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVQtZXf7w8E&feature=youtube_gdata_player">Watch "Adam Ezra Burn Brightly at </a><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVQtZXf7w8E&feature=youtube_gdata_player">Wachusett</a><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UVQtZXf7w8E&feature=youtube_gdata_player"> Mountain" on YouTube</a><br>
</p>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-78113229599334595972013-03-11T12:33:00.001-07:002013-03-11T14:00:20.416-07:0024184<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><strong>#24184. Coming to a marathon near you. 5 weeks from today. Yeah!!!</strong></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzXuS0whUDpYcubVn_CVIMJ_4TY5uO_Z3qmrmmHJ19MO21DhLWd05Qvx0YW-cmQo699qNQmEchgpH3bTzGwfdA6dCZcVaoKnguCYJGWgHXO31Rp1gchz6Ukh2aD_EmWUF7ZNhELA7M3-fe/s1600/2013-03-11_15-21-01_211.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> <img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzXuS0whUDpYcubVn_CVIMJ_4TY5uO_Z3qmrmmHJ19MO21DhLWd05Qvx0YW-cmQo699qNQmEchgpH3bTzGwfdA6dCZcVaoKnguCYJGWgHXO31Rp1gchz6Ukh2aD_EmWUF7ZNhELA7M3-fe/s640/2013-03-11_15-21-01_211.jpg" height="225" width="400" /> </a> </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-43583092349035091972013-03-07T13:12:00.002-08:002013-03-07T13:13:52.784-08:00Holding down the couch<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Here I sit (more of a lounge, really), on my couch. On my birthday. Sick. Sad face. :( The blessing in disguise: I really needed a day like this. As much as I think I can keep going nonstop, my body has spoken. And it has told me, "Girl, I don't know what you think you are doing, but you need to slow down!" Between working a ton, training for the marathon, planning fundraisers.... Yeah, I needed a time out. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I did have a restful day. I had ice cream for lunch. (hey, it's my birthday! why not!) And I am swimming in Facebook birthday wishes. I am overwhelmed with the birthday love! Thank you all! I am so lucky to have so many special people in my life - old friends, new friends, running buddies, work friends, family - you all inspire me beyond words. Thank you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">So, in between my life of chaos lately, I did stumble upon a new blog - <a href="http://milesgoneby.wordpress.com/2013/02/26/moving-forward/" target="_blank">Miles Gone By.</a> What an awesome blog. And her name is Amanda too, so she must be cool. :) Our running stories are similar - she got into running in her late 20s, runs for the fun of it, and paces about the same as me. If we lived closer, I'm pretty sure we would be running buddies. Check out her blog!!! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">I found this picture she posted last week:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yup. Simple as that. Run for you, and no one else. And there is a lot of satisfaction in that. </span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-40499905372036779622013-02-27T18:01:00.000-08:002013-02-27T18:02:06.305-08:00Mother Nature, 1. Amanda, 0.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well, I guess it wasn't *that* bad.... um, yeah, who am I kidding?! It was 37 degrees and raining for my entire 8 miles tonight. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Had a great day at work. I knew it was going to be a rough run tonight, but I was ready to suck it up, lace up my sneaks, and hit the road. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN5uP4tz9t9RKSIlzS89cUgpuUkJ6XutzNybG6aQ_e2mcD6o8ylHbCWjNQL3GNNJRdQIrQnixkSotB7m_BqBTEBndRmnnq8QAFN3xBlnm0cWVooJQPiEgI4Xz5r2Et_f7f8iKwvvZZ3iq2/s1600/Womens-Business-Professional-Dress1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN5uP4tz9t9RKSIlzS89cUgpuUkJ6XutzNybG6aQ_e2mcD6o8ylHbCWjNQL3GNNJRdQIrQnixkSotB7m_BqBTEBndRmnnq8QAFN3xBlnm0cWVooJQPiEgI4Xz5r2Et_f7f8iKwvvZZ3iq2/s1600/Womens-Business-Professional-Dress1.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's a *relative* sense of what I looked like when I came home from work.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And here is what I looked like after my run...</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHV0lV6Al3_BUKnGjSfLjUiuo7y0DXm8aUyyLsjMhnY3MCVOfqbvvNc6tptGHu9e5ATTFDOrBowPcaRFnrZLBFdredUwY8CskKYBRWKLx6dBrBETn2wbNVNDWg3ohXWmp9wv-BYIg5rVhu/s1600/cat___wet_close_up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHV0lV6Al3_BUKnGjSfLjUiuo7y0DXm8aUyyLsjMhnY3MCVOfqbvvNc6tptGHu9e5ATTFDOrBowPcaRFnrZLBFdredUwY8CskKYBRWKLx6dBrBETn2wbNVNDWg3ohXWmp9wv-BYIg5rVhu/s1600/cat___wet_close_up.jpg" height="250" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yup. Pretty accurate.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The highlight of my run - wearing my new running skirt! :) Yup, I went there. I am now the girly girl runner. But I LOVE this skirt. I got it from <a href="http://athleta.gap.com/browse/product.do?vid=1&pid=307274002" target="_blank">Athleta</a></span> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and it is perfect. Adds just enough of an extra layer to my bottom half to keep me a bit warmer on the chilly days. </span><br />
<a href="http://athleta.gap.com/browse/product.do?vid=1&pid=307274002" target="_blank"></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-35623544495600528742013-02-21T03:58:00.000-08:002013-02-21T03:58:33.184-08:00Tonight's run was brought to you by...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">....the letters B and H...as in <strong>B</strong>lustery <strong>H</strong>eadwind. Thanks Mother Nature, for the extra challenge. Here's what I have for you...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana;"></span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/PsO6ZnUZI0g?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...and AFTER my run....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana;">Take that. :P</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-79240201304853132942013-02-16T20:04:00.002-08:002013-02-16T20:05:04.328-08:00Long weekend run, take 2!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, Blizzard Nemo squashed my plans to run 15 miles last weekend. I haven't run more than 10.5 since September 30 (<a href="http://www.hamptonrockfest.com/" target="_blank">Smuttynose Half</a>). Yikes. Anyway...I planned a little trip to the Cape to visit my parents (and Fenway Sally, of course!) and hopefully get 15-16 miles in a relatively snow-less area. Well, now we are preparing for 4"-8" of snow between tonight and tomorrow. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijzTL84EhEiyuGphHpcsErink4QMfMdWqtAW1CI1mit3ORxZYKTc7ecQSNLg44xVZ2LMHTY-mmIZthN6hTgdonkZXMon9YPdy2Fpneak65VfsCzuyMKB7O6PDcwafQX4S0giVhAbcBXl7E/s1600/weather+216.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijzTL84EhEiyuGphHpcsErink4QMfMdWqtAW1CI1mit3ORxZYKTc7ecQSNLg44xVZ2LMHTY-mmIZthN6hTgdonkZXMon9YPdy2Fpneak65VfsCzuyMKB7O6PDcwafQX4S0giVhAbcBXl7E/s1600/weather+216.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Channel 5 forecast as of Saturday evening..... </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the Cape. Really, Mother Nature?! C'mon, help a girl out! Hoping for some clear roads by Monday! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Until then...</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12324028405380968305noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4048984081410214205.post-75692979639606161742013-02-14T10:59:00.001-08:002013-02-14T11:03:52.582-08:00Want to win an iPad?? <strong><span style="font-family: Verdana;">A HUGE thank you for all of your support thus far! I recently got some info from my contact at NF that came from John Hancock (the primary sponsor of the Boston Marathon). </span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Between now and February 24, anyone who donates $26 (or more) will be entered to win an iPad2 AND a $100 iTunes Gift Card. How cool is that??</span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana;">So, all you need to do is click on the "Donate at Least $26..." link below, make a donation, and you will be entered to win! </span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Thank you for your continued support of my marathon training and Team NF! </span></strong></div>
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Much Love,</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="font-family: Verdana;">Amanda</span></strong> </div>
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<div style="color: #c4c4c4; font-family: Arial; line-height: 100%; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.crowdrise.com/TeamNeurofibromatosisNortheast/fundraiser/amandasrunningboston?ref1=JHiPad2_Neurofibromatosis%20Inc.%20Northeast" style="color: #ff8a00;" target="_blank"><strong><span style="font-size: medium;">Donate at Least $26 and You Could Win an iPad2 and $100 iTunes Gift Card</span></strong></a> </div>
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<a href="http://www.crowdrise.com/TeamNeurofibromatosisNortheast/fundraiser/amandasrunningboston?ref1=JHiPad2_Neurofibromatosis%20Inc.%20Northeast" style="color: #ff8a00;" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://gallery.mailchimp.com/424aefbe840a9f828bf0a79b3/images/BostonIpad2.1.jpg" height="293" style="display: inline; line-height: 100%; margin: 0px; min-height: 550px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;" width="320" /></a><br />
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Right now, anyone who donates at least $26 to any John Hancock <br />
Boston Marathon fundraiser will get signed up to win an iPad2 and <br />
a $100 iTunes gift card. </div>
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<div style="border: 0px currentColor; font-family: ProximaNova,"Helvetica Neue",helvetica,arial,sans-serif; line-height: 150%; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: left; vertical-align: baseline;">
<b>- Here's how everyone you know can win...</b> Send the link to your <br />
John Hancock Boston Marathon fundraiser to all your friends and <br />
family and ask them to donate at least $26 too. That's it.</div>
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On February 24th 11:59pm EST, a winner will randomly be chosen. </div>
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If you have any questions, please email <a href="mailto:boston@crowdrise.com" style="color: #ff8a00;" target="_blank">Boston@CrowdRise.com</a> <br />
and they'll solve everything right away.</div>
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Thanks so much.</div>
Amanda Cancellieri, running for<br />
<b style="background-color: transparent; border: 0px currentColor; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Neurofibromatosis Inc. Northeast</b><br />
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