Mainely Running
Join me as I train in Maine and race all over the world in pursuit of my goal to run a marathon on all 7 continents

Saturday, July 16, 2011


One of the downsides to my job and lift-style is that it is hard to eat well. This week was particularly bad. I’m on the plane home feeling overstuffed and guilty.
It all started Sunday when I had to sprint through IAD to make my connection, which meant I didn’t have time to buy dinner. I was sitting way in the back of the plane, so by the time the food service got back to me the only thing left to buy was a giant can of Pringles. I was starving. So I bought them, and then I ate them all. When we landed 6 hours later, I was hungry again, but also completely exhausted. I didn’t want to waste time stopping for food so I got a thing of turtle Chex mix, and again ate the whole thing. Monday afternoon I was bored and alone in the office. Someone had brought in a chocolate “dirt” cake. I went back for thirds. Tuesday I tried really hard. I did well all day, and went to the grocery store and bought a grilled chicken breast and grilled veggies from the deli. But of course, there is no microwave in my hotel room. I tried heating the chicken up with an iron. It didn’t work well. So I ate my cold dinner. Cold it tasted even more like bad deli food. I tried eating outside by the pool to make it nicer. But then I was surrounded by people eating ice cream. And the ice cream chest was right there next to my chair. So I caved and bought an “Itz-It,” mint ice cream between 2 cookies covered in chocolate. Wednesday, I got in a good 8 miler and was determined to start fresh……Until there were donuts at the office. I don’t know where these donuts come from, but they are unbelievably delicious. I couldn’t stop. I ate 4. 4!!! In the afternoon I redeemed myself by climbing up and down Lombard street in San Francisco. It’s this incredibly steep hill, and also known as the curviest street in the world. There is a section where the road zig-zags back and forth. You could smell the burning breaks. Then, I went to Haight Ashbury. I ended up at “All you Knead,” for dinner, a funky diner like place. The name is apt, because the portion of pasta I got was all I “kneaded” for a whole day. But it was so good, I just kept eating until I felt like I was going to explode. I walked around for awhile after dinner to try and make myself feel a little less stuffed, but it was getting dark. The Haight still has a definite counter-culture vibe that started to feel a little scary alone at night.

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