Grow Baby Grow

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)  

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.

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.

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. 

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 previous post, such was not the case.)

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.  

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. 

Fridge Dills!

Hey party people!  This year, I decided to purchase a CSA 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 Nourse Farm.  That's a win in my book!  

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!

The finished product!

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.  

Here are some photos of the process, and the recipe that I used. 

The goods!

Boiling and waiting for it to cool was the loooonngest part!

Sliced the cukes and packed the jar while I was waiting for the liquid to cool.

All packed up and ready for the pickling liquid

Refrigerator Dills

3 ½ cups water
1 ¼ cups white vinegar
1 Tbsp sugar
1 Tbsp sea salt
4 cups cucumber spears or slices
3-4 cloves garlic, whole and peeled
3-4 sprigs of fresh dill
1 Tbsp black pepper corns

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.  

Caution - once opened, the pickles are irresistible.  They will not last long. You have been warned. ;) 

Mangia!

March Musings

Here we are - 36 days away from Boston...  

Pre-15 miler! 

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. 

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.  

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.  

Just as negativity breeds more negativity, positive attitudes do the same.  Positive vibes are contagious.  Spread the love. 

Ok, enough of my soap box for now! :)   This week, the B.A.A. announced bib numbers and wave/corral assignments.  Woohoo!!!  

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. 

Viva Las Vegas! (or A Dashed PR and a 3-State Moose & M.G. Adventure)

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 Boston Marathon last April. The Rock 'n' Roll Race Series 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??"  

Paris Las Vegas

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.  

Picking up our race numbers

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. 

Pre-dinner selfie!

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.  

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.  

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.  

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...). 

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).

D had a marathon PR!! Woo hoo!  

The next day Chris had a spa day planned with the Tedy's Team ladies, so Dayna and I hit the road to Zion National Park.  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. 

Warning: gratuitous selfies abound!

State #3 of the day - and the second time zone!
Utah = Mountain time, Vegas = Pacific time

Thelma & Louise shot

Welcome to Zion 

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!

Trust the boot! (or sneaker!)

Peek-a-boo!

Pictures do NOT do this place justice. At all. 

Yes, he was really that close to the road. Just having a little dinner.

And it wouldn't be a Moose and Mountain Goat adventure if we didn't finish our day with beers and nachos.... at Zion Canyon Brew Pub.

And even caught a sunset on our way back to Vegas.

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! 

Firsts and Nexts

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!  

I was so excited for Katie and her first race.  After I posted a picture about the Huff N Cuff 5k 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 Brian Richard, oh yeah, and free beer. Yup, I said it...free WACHUSETT 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.)

Anyway, we had a great time, with exceptional company. And I was super proud of Katie - her first race and a PR no less! 

Katie and I - pre-race! (Yes, blue was the Training Dept. uniform for the day)

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.  

CRB and I - ready to run!

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.  

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. 

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.

My first marathon

And then, a couple weeks later another package arrived.  My signed copy of 4:09:43 from Hal Higdon.  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.)

Wow. So humbled. 

Next, I have my sights set on Las Vegas. I want my PR. :) 

Untitled (on purpose)

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.

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. 

Christine, our new BFF Tedy, and Amanda

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.

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. :) 

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!). 

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. 

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!!

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!

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. ;)

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. 

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...

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!

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. 

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...

New adventures...!

Hi there!  Welcome to my blog and thanks for reading!  I am new to the "blogosphere," so bear with me. (:  I love to photojournal my life and adventures, both in and out of the kitchen.  I LOVE to cook, and try new recipes, and I love to try new adventures.  Stay tuned for more posts, pictures, and treats!