Getting in shape like I'm in Shape

It's a bright new day in a bright new year. And you know what that means, right?

It's time, once again, to throw myself, again, into the Couch to 5K program!

This is probably my tenth or so time trying to complete the program, on a treadmill, of course. (I'm afraid of dogs, so running around the neighborhood is not an option for me, but I will run on a school track occasionally). In my heydey, when I was a senior in college and had a lot more time than I do now, I was able to complete all the way up to week eight of nine weeks. So, so close! I was actually running a consistent 25 minutes on the treadmill several times a week.

Unlike many of the hott people I envy, running is not something I necessarily enjoy doing. Part of the reason is that I'm Grace, and I have Wimpy Disease. The other part of the reason is that when I first started (trying) to run, I didn't get anything resembling the Running Zone, which the hott people writing for Shape magazine tell me is "that high you get when you're running along being hott and leggy and not breaking any kind of a sweat and everything is awesome and all your troubles instantly disappear and you're caught up only in the Zone and the beat of the newest Pitbull-Whoever hit musical compilation". No, Grace just slogged and slogged and slogged, all the while becoming increasingly less hott. And when I run, I sweat buckets, almost like a guy but worse, because at least two buckets of sweat are coming from my head. Seriously, who the heck secretes perspiration from their head? Thankfully, ADD meds worked wonders for the evolution of my Running Zone. I actually can get into the Running Zone nowadays, it takes about ten minutes of warming up and BOOM - I'm hott and not sweaty and kind of enjoying my run!

But again, it's a new year, a new opportunity, a new Grace. This year, I can - no, I will - run at least thirty minutes at 5 MPH on a treadmill! If I can get used to sleeping with a Darth Vader mask strapped to my face, I can definitely run thirty minutes in one go!

So earlier this month, when I was gifted a minor windfall for a resume I wrote for someone (yes, I do write and edit resumes for the low low price of $35 a pop, shill shill shill), I successfully completed the first, most awesome step of sweating buckets - hott gym clothes. Pre-spree, I wore the following to the gym, in different combinations every day:

• Terrifying purple wide-leg gym pants
• Terrifying very faded blackish wide-leg gym pants
• Terrifying boy's track pants with stretched-out elastic waist that I bought for ten cents back when the thrift shop was actually cheap and not invaded by hott people
• Terrifying tees in faded yellow, bright yellow, and faded black with some jazz musician on the front leaning over a piano and looking like he's dead
• Terrifying tees with holes, stains, and more stains

In my defense, I do own dedicated gym clothes. However, for some reason I bought moisture-wicking capris and tank tops. I don't wear things that show excessive body parts/excessive beads of sweat to the gym, so I have no clue what I was thinking here. These gym clothes live in my banished clothing box in my closet and are one step away from being donated to Goodwill.

I decided that my new gym clothes would be hott gym clothes (and let's face it, gym clothes that are also very functional and look like gym clothes). I bought a couple of athletic tees and yoga leggings from TJMaxx, and I've actually been wearing my ensembles to the gym. Go figure.

So now I am really ready to tackle that 5K. I've got the clothes. I've got the meds. I've got the only pair of earbuds that actually seem to fit my ears. I've got a pocket for my phone in the waistband of my new yoga pants. I've got NFL Replays and The First 48 on the treadmill TV screen. What more could I want?

Well, three things.

First of all, I really need to figure out why the back of my head is cramping up when I run. I think this happens because my glasses keep sliding down my nose and I keep wrinkling my nose to push them back up, but I'm not sure.

I also need a lock for a gym locker. I've always been too lazy to use a locker and just stick my purse and my coat on the treadmill handle. This has led to my coat falling off the handle and flying off the treadmill within inches of my feet, which is a potential hazard that could lead to amputation and/or death, so I should get right on that lock.

Finally, I really need a treadmill that's specifically engineered for really short people. This is, of course, wishful thinking. But wow, I would truly love for someone to build a treadmill with a TV screen that's low enough that I don't have to crane my neck upwards to watch Frederick "Fatty" Jones get interrogated by Miami law enforcement. That would totally make my day.

Well, I'm off to sit on my rear end for a couple more hours. See you at the gym. Later.

The easiest most involved recipe you ever did read!

About six months ago, I was being fat and getting all comfy on my behind depression in the couch reading Yelp reviews of Chinese restaurants, when I had a momentous, shocking realization.

Somewhere between the time in my life when I refused to eat chicken outside my house because it could contain e. coli and the time in my life when I ordered, ate, and enjoyed a Taiwanese stir fly of tofu, bamboo shoots, and congealed duck blood, I had become an amateur foodie.

I can thank Dan for most of my palate development. We ate at a lot of restaurants in college, grad school, and beyond (and this may be the reason that my doughiness continues even to the present). We've eaten the good, the bad, and the ugly, and along the way, I've actually learned to recognize and appreciate good food.

"How's the fries?" Dan asks. "Natural-cut sea-salt, correct?"

"Sysco, unfortunately," I sigh.

I don't care what you call your fries and how fresh-cut and fancy you tell me they are. You can't pull the wool over my eyes. I know the taste of institutional food-service conglomerate fare better than you.

So now that we both have the liberty of being hip and trendy and turning our noses up at any restaurant we want (and, in Dan's case, can detail the pros and cons of said restaurants over on his uproariously funny Yelp account), I sometimes try to recreate some of the food that I've enjoyed at places where they charge you fifteen bucks for a tiny plate of tuna carpaccio. And that's, like, two and a half meals at McDonald's, not three, because inflation hurts us all.

Which means I have to find recipes, usually online.

Unless you're talking AllRecipes or the Food Network Online, finding a recipe for the perfect peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the Internet is truly the challenge of separating the wheat from the chaff. Because many recipes, many of the recipes I want to make, are buried deep on.... food blogs. Which is usually the code word for food photography blogs.

Now, I like pretty Pinterest food as much as any other white female between the ages of twenty-five and sixty. But when I'm just trying to find that perfect peanut butter and jelly recipe, I do not want to be wading through hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of off-center photos of the perfectly-plated PBJ sandwich with a superfluous mason jar with a fancy straw somehow photobombing the poor sandwich. And yeah, when I get to the actual recipe, I am not grinding my own peanuts.

*****

Happy Weekend, everyone!

Lazy, lazy Saturday over in the Huang house today! Dan and I woke up around eleven and kind of lay around watching some Law and Order reruns. That big snowstorm that's supposed to come through finally started around noon, so we got to watch the snow fall out our big living room window. So cozy, I love it!

For lunch I decided to whip up this beauty of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich!

Who doesn't love a real home-made PBJ? I remember when I was young, when we'd go out in the snow to play, my mom would make us all some hot cocoa and peanut butter and jelly when we came in. We'd sit down and eat while we played some board games. Great fun!

So yummy!

And yes, I finally got to put my peanut-grinder to work! It's such a great buy. Soooo easy to use, perfect peanut butter!

So without further ado, here's the recipe!

Grace's Best Most Awesome Most Not Labor-Intensive Ground Peanut Butter and Raspberry Jam Sandwich!

Ingredients

1/2 pound of organic peanuts, shelled

Natural loaf of bread (you can use your own, but I bought mine... Spelt! So yummy!)

1/2 pound fresh-picked raspberries

Cane sugar

Gelatin

1. Shell the peanuts.

2. Put shelled peanuts into peanut grinder. Pulse for ten seconds at a time. I had success when I pulsed for ten seconds and stopped for ten seconds. Fifteen minutes should about do it.

3. Peanuts should be a creamy consistency. Remove peanut butter from peanut grinder, set aside.

4. Wash and drain raspberries. Put raspberries into food processor, blend. Add sugar to taste. Add gelatin.

5. Put raspberry mixture into the fridge and let set for about an hour.

6. Spread butter and jelly on bread. Enjoy with a big glass of milk.

*****

So yeah, I'm bitter. All I want is a recipe that gives me the correct peanut butter/jelly proportions for a really good sandwich. I don't want to grind anything, saute crap, make a pate, or use a mason jar. Just no. No.

A look back at 2013

In one of Grace's kinda boring self-discovery posts, let's take a look back at 2013. Because you're just dying to know.

1. In January, I started classes at Desales. Frustrated by the lack of job prospects in education in the area, I decided to get a BA Accounting as both a possible second career and a way to see the world through the eyes of the world, which is money. Also, it can lay the groundwork for graduate work in economics if I so choose.

2. In April, we bought our first house. We got a nice house for market price, a doable mortgage, and needing minimal upgrades. It's also located within twenty minutes of just about everything.

3. In April, I got my first permanent job in education. Yes, it did turn out to be kind of a doozy of a job. But it also provided a paycheck, benefits, summers off, and teaching the little guy how to communicate as an added bonus.

4. In June, we went on vacation to Poland. International travel. Food. Cathedrals. Zlotytech. More food. Berlin-Tegel. Enough said.

5. In July, I taught summer school. I loved my students, and judging from the numerous smiles and general lack of screaming and punching, they loved me too.

6. In August, we went to Canada. Unfortunately, I probably have less love for Canada than I had before I went to Canada, because in Canada, it takes way too long to cross the border, and there are no bathroom stops along the way. Niagara Falls was fantastic, however.

7. In September, I got awesome new meds. Possibly more about this in the future. But they're awesome meds and have made my life take a complete 180 for the better.

8. In October, Dan was offered a full-time librarian position. Birds sang. Angels smiled. I got to say I-told-you-so. I knew it was only a matter of time until someone realized that Dan could be an irreplaceable asset, but he didn't believe me until it actually happened.

9. In November, I left my job for a new position. This was a hard thing. It was very significant for me and left a deep impression on the wide-eyed innocence of my psyche. But I think that it was actually a good thing that I went through that experience, trying though it was, because it taught me several need-to-know life lessons.

10. In December, there was Christmas break. And Christmas break was pretty awesome, if you ask me. My over-active brain, for once in its life, was quiet. All I did was eat, sleep, lie on the couch, visit people, and watch football. It's always been impossible for me to just relax, so I am so thankful for the mental ability to procrastinate and do nothing over break.

What will 2014 hold for Grace?