Who Dat? NOBODY!

I can't really describe the happiness and insanity here in New Orleans following the Saint's Superbowl win. I have to quote Wynton Marsalis, who put it best when he said, "It's like waiting 43 years to hear somebody say 'I love you' back, and they do."
As the seconds ticked off the clock New Orleans erupted: you could hear a roar rising over the city. We ran out of the house to the craziness on Maple street and hugged strangers. Our neighbors threw their furniture onto the street and set it on fire (college kids!). Our guests cried. My husband lost his voice.
We ended up heading downtown with our friend Rena, one of David's childhood friends displaced by Katrina, who actually flew to New Orleans from DC in a snowstorm to watch the game in NOLA. We squeezed onto Bourbon street and took an obligatory photo:

But really the most fun was on Poydras, where bumper to bumper traffic blared the "Crunk" song and everyone hung out their windows giving high fives or sat on the hood of their cars screaming. We rolled in after midnight and I think we might have been the first New Orleanians in bed that night (I had work at 8 am though...although quite a few people took Monday off and many of the schools here closed).
This Saints team brought so much camaraderie to New Orleans. If you're in New Orleans right now, you have thousands of friends close by, I promise you. If you want proof go open your front door and shout "Who Dat" and I bet you hear a "NOBODY!" from down the street. What a weekend: we united behind our team and we united behind our government (oh yeah, we elected a mayor outright, without a run-off, this weekend).

And I caught a miserable cold Sunday night running around jacket-less and now I'm sick in bed. It was so worth it, though.

Who dat say dey gonna beat dem Saints?!

Dear thighs, I'm sorry I insulted you so many times and made snide comments in the dressing room.

Because, dear thighs, your enormous girth may not be such a bad deal after all. Sure, you force me a size up in jeans, creating the dreaded saggy butt and waist gap we all detest. And you have prompted questions like, "Do you speed skate?" and "How do you buy pants that fit?" You certainly killed my modeling career (oh, ok, maybe there were other contributing factors to that one). I'm pretty sure you're the reason someone yelled at me, "You want a biscuit to go with dem chicken legs?" during a race.
But you know what? Your extra inches are not the dreaded F word (fat) or the dreaded C word (cellulite) but are thanks to the much more acceptable M word (muscle).
Geez. Take a look at that muscle!

Is it any wonder that my skinny jeans don't fit just right?
Now I know this sounds silly but honestly that picture grosses me out. Ew. Weird looking hamstring. But hey, I guess that's what running and never stretching will do to a girl.
There. I have persuaded myself that big thighs are ok. I will now go to work happy.

Happy birthday hubby!

Yesterday David turned 35, shockers. I'm married to an old man! That's middle age!
We went out to dinner at Coquette on Magazine, one of my favorite places to get a cocktail. At this point, I would insert a charming photo of the two of us dolled up to go out to eat, but I can't because the birthday boy was too tired to take a photo when we got home (I believe it was a food coma). However, I loved my outfit so much I'll describe it to you: black cigarette ankle pants, navy and purple patterned chemise with thick black lace edging and neckline, and snug black blazer. I wore black snakeskin heels with double ankle straps, a silver cuff bracelet, and large silver filigree earrings. It was a chic way to stay warm on a date. We ate ourselves silly and ordered the Port au Price to drink, a spiced rum and sherry cocktail (proceeds benefit the Red Cross' efforts in Haiti).

David's hard to buy for because he only likes expensive things, and he likes things I don't know much about. For example, he probably would have like a new lens for his camera, but I wouldn't know what to buy - nor would I want to pay that much. So I decided this year to get him "a weekend" instead. I came up with a weekend full of events on the Northshore. For those of you not from New Orleans, the Northshore is Nola's redneck cousin. I used to live there when the hubby and I met, and we sort of make jokes about it. We used to call it a "honkey tonk date" when we went out to eat there, so I came up with a full honkey tonk weekend. I made an illustrated book describing each activity for the weekend. So David could also have something tangible, I bought a Saints championship hat...which I had to go to 5 stores to find! Everyone was sold out! Finally I found the display hat at the Sport Authority all the way out in Harahan, and I persuaded a manager to hold it for me in exchange for chocolate (shout out to Kenny at the Clearview Sports Authority!). Ah, the things we do for love!

Do you have anyone hard to buy for in your life? If so, what are your solutions and the best ideas you've had?
How about some of the not-so-good ideas too?

"THE WALL" 30k - worst race evah!

Sunday I ran "The Wall" 30k in Destrehan. Here I am, up all bright and early and ready to run!

Here's the hubby. He went back to his warm bed.

I went out to the worst race ever. Here is why:
- The course is awful. It's 15 k down a straight boring path and back. And it's the top of the levee, so it is totally bare to the elements: no shade, no wind cover, nothing. And it's hideous: the view is the ugly side of the levee, full of garbage, industrial boats, abandoned 18 wheelers, and empty containers.
- It was a frigid 27 degrees with zero sunshine and 89% humidity. The wind was bitterly cold and whipping across the levee. Even standing was hard, let alone running!
- Everything on me hurt: my knee hurts, my feet are covered in blood blisters, I have a pulled groin muscle, and I'm not in much shape.

So the race. Well it turns out that I missed the memo that if you weren't competing in the state championship 30k you should start 1/2 an hour early. So it was me in my layered T-shirts alongside all these elite athletes wearing clothes made from spaceship remnants. The field was very small, so immediately we were all spread out and I was left in the bitter cold with no wind cover - the wind was seriously the worse I've ever run in and I was struggling terribly. The first few miles were the hardest. In fact, I decided at mile 3 that this was the worst I had ever physically felt. Ugh. Around that time I was...not joking...doing about 12 minute miles. At the beginning! I am not making this wind up: it was utter misery!
Anyway, I managed to make the turn around and the wind would be less in my face after I turned around (it was from the side, but would be sort of more towards my back). On the way back, my shoe came untied twice, and once my CAR KEY (tied to my lace) BOUNCED DOWN THE SIDE OF THE LEVEE. I had to scramble down the side to grab it! This was killing me! I did feel a little better without the wind directly in my eyes and lungs, but it was still cold, gray, and ugly. I never really got into the swing and never warmed up. I was so numb at the finish, but some sweet lady brought me hot chocolate! How cute is that! And instead of medals they gave out beer glasses, which is nice since I break my glasses like their new years resolutions. My time was HORRID - 2 hr and 53 min - but I got some good marathon practice I guess. I still need pacing practice! I got a picture after I reached my car - the sun had sort of come up (ha) and this bridge, the start and finish, is basically all Destrehan is known for. Destrehan is ugly.


After the race I drove home - and stopped at Target. The closest Target is not near my house, but it was on the way back, and I had two gifts to buy off Target registries. I left my race number on so people would not think I was just an insane unwashed being stealing a baby stroller and several towels.

Once I got home I showered and the hubby and I drove to the in-laws for his birthday. His dad made steak, and I could eat it: I bought a Vitamin Water "Revive" potassium drink at Target, and it really calmed my stomach (I tend to get cramps after running). Either I needed the potassium, or I didn't run fast enough to cramp.
We didn't stay too long though because I was falling asleep!
I really, really need two things: rest, to heal all my hurting body parts, and not-rest, to build up endurance. Argh, there's the rub. What to do?

Foody Friday: How to make your lettuce last and last

I sort of forgot about Foody Friday, that cute little bit of alliteration that allows me a paragraph or two to go on and on about food. I do so love eating good food.
Today I'd like to focus on one of those little tips that totally changed my salad life. I learned this tip when I was a "soda jerk" in a drug store in high school - my very first pharmacy job. We had a little cafe and soda fountain in the drug store, and business in the cafe wasn't exactly booming. Many people came in for a nectar soda, a real malt, or an ice cream cone; lunches were more rare with maybe 4-6 a day. So it was important for us to keep our leaf lettuce for sandwiches fresh for several days. Here's how we did it:

1. Open up the head of lettuce and hold it under running water and wash, wash, wash. Open all the leaves up so it gets clean at the base (ps - if you use soap or veggies wash, sprinkle it in here. I don't, because I like to live life on the edge and I'm anti-anti-bacterial. Vigorous washing usually dislodges most bugs).
2. Turn the lettuce upside down and give it a vigorous shake to get excess water out. DO NOT shake it dry: the key here is that there will still be moisture in the lettuce head.
3. Spread out about 2 1/2 feet of plastic wrap on your counter. Lay the lettuce on it, kind of at a slant so you can fold the corner of the plastic warp up to cover the base of the lettuce head.
4. Then just roll it up, pretty tightly.
5. With the last few inches of plastic wrap, fold plastic wrap over the top of the head to make a nice snug little cocoon.

Store in the warmest spot in the fridge; re-wrap every time you open and use the lettuce. If you have a bowl you can lay it in in the fridge it will decrease the dripping in the bottom of the fridge (it does drip because there's so much extra moisture in it).

If you're cooking for one or two this should keep your lettuce fresh for the duration!

In which I try barefoot running and end up with holes in my feet.

On my way home from work yesterday I heard a story on NPR about barefoot running. I've heard a lot about barefoot running lately: how it protects your knees, makes you land on your toes, etc. I figured I'd try it for a short run. This was really stupid. I get paid to stand on my feet for 8 hours a day...and I'm running a 30k race on Sunday! It is never a good idea to makes holes in your feet, but it's a really bad idea to experiment right before a race. Silly me. I slipped on some old socks and hit the road.
I only went about 3.5 miles, but here's my summary:
- It does feel good on your joints. It's a very cushioned, springy way to run.
- You use the backs of your calves more this way: I actually felt it in my muscles, and I generally never feel sore after running (even long races, although my joints will hurt).
- You can increase your speed quite a bit unknowingly, which I did. I was so surprised at my time because I thought I was keeping it slow to try the new technique. I was about 45 seconds faster per mile than I thought.
- It hurts like hell. Even with socks on I have ... holes in my feet. I got a few blisters and some red spongy spots on the tips of my toes (see graphic image above!) and on the balls of my feet I actually wore through my skin and have little red spots where blood is oozing out. Disgusting and monumentally painful.
- If I did this again I'd have to find a better way to protect my feet! New Orleans streets are rough!

The funny thing is that I was stopped halfway through by this guy in Vibram five finger "shoes" who wanted to know who made my barefoot shoes and what they were called. I responded, "Dollar Tree socks???" and he thought I was joking. No, friend, I was really running in socks from Dollar Tree. Got a problem with that?

How about you: Have you tried barefoot running? If you haven't, what do you think of it? Do you think it does protect your body - or is it actually going to cause an injury in the long run?

BLACK AND GOLD SUPER BOWL!

We won! We probably didn't deserve it, but I'm with Howie Long: it was destiny! The Saints are going to the Super Bowl!
Do you realize what this is doing to this city? It's gone crazy (er)! Last night after the win noise erupted in our neighborhood. People were setting off fireworks, running up and down the street, honking horns. Maple street has turned into one big street party. We walked down just to be part of the insanity - it was truly insane! We couldn't actually make calls from the 504 area code to another 504 number: the networks were overloaded. At one point a police car approached, presumably with the intent of clearing the street - but instead he rolled down his window and started blasting the "Crunk" song!

Of course, this is bittersweet for those New Orleanians who left the city after Katrina. This is a dream decades in the making, and to not be home to celebrate must hurt. I have friends who flooded in Katrina and live elsewhere now, and while they're happy, they're homesick. We promised to save them copies of the Times Picayune today, but everywhere was sold out at 7 am! I actually called the pharmacy I'm working at this morning and begged them to hold me a few copies. It's kind of cute to watch the hubby, too. I've had other teams: in the early '90's I was a rabid Skins fan, and when they won the Superbowl (in 1992?) I swore I'd marry Mark Rippian. And I've been a Pats fan for years, and they dominated football for many years. But for the hubby, his team is finally making it. I think last night he was in shock, and I'd be lying if I said he wasn't a little emotional!

The Super Bowl will be tough, of course, and our offense actually has to show up this time. But I'm not worried yet. I think I'll just bask in it all for now. Who dat! I believe!