Top 10 Reasons Journalists Won't Give Up Newspapers

So you've probably heard about this whole publishing business model that isn't working. Yeah, I'm living it right now -- and I can tell you first-hand how difficult it's been for editorial teams and executives to wrap their heads around and figure out the new journalism (if you can call it that half the time).

Anyway, part of our assignment for ad class this week was to create our own Top 10 list a la David Letterman. I chose to speak near and dear to my heart and create the "Top 10 Reasons Journalists Won't Give Up Newspapers" list. What do you think?

Top 10 Reasons Journalists Won't Give Up Newspapers

10. Publishing yesterday’s news helps slow time.

9. Inky hands are a sign of intellectualism.

8. Still learning InDesign/InCopy 2006.

7. Rushing to make the “to printer” deadline still allows for pretty good accuracy rates.

6. The whole interacting-with-the-public thing is scary.

5. Mrs. Ethel Johnson of Sugar Grove would cancel her subscription.

4. Plans to sell newspapers on eBay as collectors editions would be foiled.

3. It’s fun to plan jump pages.

2. Still waiting to realize dream of yelling “Stop the Press!”

1. How else are people going to get the news?

Spin Class Ass Kicking No. 2

Apparently, I'm not in the shape I was, nor was I taking as difficult a spin class as I thought at the Y. I went to spin this morning -- this class didn't have the hard-core instructor! -- and was once again barely able to keep up. Again.

But I'm good at hills! And I place in the top 10 percent for the bike on every race. Wtf?

I can only blame my bike and getting used to the gear settings so much; this is just a different breed of spinners at my new gym.


Good thing it's better to train with the best!

****

Speaking of spin, I'm not that thrilled with the morning instructor. She just jumped into class without stating a plan, e.g. "Today we're going to work on our endurance" or what have you, and she did a lot of jumps, where you stand out of your seat and sit down on counts of 4 to 8, usually -- or in her case, one-second counts. Jumps are dumb. They don't mimic outdoor cycling and hurt your knees.

I guess I should be thankful I have the 5:45 a.m. spin class and that it gets my heart rate up. Woot.

Thanksgiving: The Meal

As you can see, Thanksgiving at my aunt and uncle's was a success. I cleaned my plate -- twice. Here's what it looked like to start:

Clockwise, from top: dark meat turkey with gravy; kugelis, my mom's Lithuanian potato and bacon specialty, with sour cream; stuffing; broccoli; canned cranberries; sweet potatoes with marshmallows; and frozen cranberry salad, which I would definitely like at one of my last meals and makes its rounds at every family holiday. 

The above table is the adult table.

And this is the kiddie table. It doesn't matter that Brian's older than my cousin Debbie, who's at the adult table -- again -- but that's OK. Donna (pictured) is awesome, and we've determined the cool people sit at the kiddie table anyway. (And the wine's better.)

The biggest news though from Thanksgiving is that my mom showed up with a walker. Every time I see her, her back is worse, and her pain seems to be increasing. She technically could have used the walker a long time ago but was waiting until she couldn't not use it. Unfortunately that time has come.

I'll probably write about it later; it's a complex issue I don't feel like diving into. I just hate that she's so young and lives life in so much pain.

I'm thankful for Brian, my family and my friends; the luxury of food and everything else I take for granted; and my health. I so dearly appreciate my health.

Thanksgiving Day Ass-Kicking

I got my ass kicked at 8:01 a.m. on Thanksgiving.

Brian informed me that Caroline, the spinning instructor with a cult following at my new gym, would be teaching a "short" hour-long class at 8 a.m.,and I decided it would be the perfect opportunity to break myself into the spinning bikes and get in a good workout. I arrived knowing full well that she's a hard-core cyclist whose following includes Ironman triathletes and elite amateurs; I'd joined Brian in a class years ago, a few months after I had started spinning, and hated the bikes, the room temperature and the spinning clique atmosphere so much I couldn't even give the class my all and was miserable. But that was then, and this Thanksgiving -- a full two years on the bike indoors and outdoors under my belt -- I felt I could do it.

Hah! I found myself following the same advice I give to newbie spinners, either in class for the first time or friends who are doing it for the first time: "If it's too difficult -- and it probably will be -- just take down the resistance. No one will know! Just keep peddling and do your best."

I can tell you right now that when you're dying, even that advice doesn't cut it. And it's exactly what Caroline told me before class.Caroline's super nice and was super welcoming and excited to have me in class (Brian told her I was joining the gym). But hearing the newbie pitch irked me a bit; I've been spinning and cycling -- in the "tough" classes, thank you very much! -- for over two years. Hearing myself lumped into that category hurt my ego.

So I got on the bike, and the ass kicking began at 8:01. But it was great! And she's great. She's more a coach than anything, and I can see why the die-hards do and die by her. As we did a "perceived exertion" exercise, in which you push yourself to the point the instructor's telling you you should be at, she walked around and yelled at people, including me, "Go harder! This is difficult for everyone! Harder!" She's petite with has dark curly hair but could pass for any drill sargent. She gets your ass in gear.

I nearly felt like puking but did push. I would love to take the class again after my body's adjusted to the bikes.

Alas, I had lowered the resistance.

I can't go to her class regularly because teachers while I'm just getting out of work. But maybe I can drag myself out of bed on Saturdays -- maybe. She teaches at 6:30 a.m. -- now that's hard core.

Too hard core for me? That's the difference between the die-hards and the committed folks like me, I guess.

San Soo Gab San Korean Barbecue: Great, Experience; Just Avoid 'The Thing'

I've never done official Korean barbecue, which could have been a bad thing if I were intimidated by dozens of dishes filled with totally unfamiliar foods and tastes, or if I panicked at the sight of a mini barbecue pit sitting inches away from my plate. But if you go to San Soo Gab San in Lincoln Square, everything happens so quickly -- busy Korean women with barely any English plop about two dozen plates on your table within minutes of ordering, and the fire pit is shoved in the center of the table before your eyes can digest the contents of those bowls -- there's no time to panic. You just dive in and taste.

We ordered the Korean marinated pork and beef brisket to grill; all those dishes are automatic for the table. Meats are fatty and tasty as long as you don't think too hard about the women standing near the kitchen cutting up the meat strips with scissors and not wearing hair nets. I liked the pork rib the best. 

This is a great place if you try new things. Just be prepared. If trying a new type of fish is your idea of living dangerously, this is not the place for you. You'll leave the restaurant not knowing much of what you ate. And some of it will taste bad -- not because it's not prepared properly, but because it will be assaultingly different. There's an odd potato salad sample that creeps in, but you'll find some flat-out wierd shit, including this thing:

We don't know what it is, but it's texture is akin to biting in to a rubber eraser with a density closer to Silly Putty. I don't know what the brown sauce is either, but it took everything in my power to not spit it out at the table -- perhaps one of the most difficult gulps of my life. I eat almost anything, but this crossed the line.

That said, it's a dynamic experience: the restaurant is casual and busy, and cooking your own food offers a charm. It's great for groups, even though you're squished into a table whether there's two or six of you.

I didn't start this blog by describing my disgusting experience because I didn't want it to set the tone for the whole restaurant. This is a great place. Just go easy on the rubber eraser plant thing.

Goodbye to My Gym

This morning I said goodbye to the Y, finally making the plunge to work out at Brian's gym full-time. It's bittersweet, for all the reasons I've written. But I'm mentally there, which was a big step.

I've had my new membership card since the beginning of November and immediately began swimming in my new pool, which is 1,000 times better than the Y's. A 25 meter pool that is constantly open for lap swim made it an easy transition. But I couldn't give up spin class until today, even though the Monday instructor's workouts haven't been doing it for me for a while, and even though my new gym features more classes. The bikes are nicer at my old gym. And more importantly, I like the people.

Oddly, top of mind is Lila (name's changed), a mentally challenged and bi-polar woman who comes every single morning and I think in the evening, too. She has a habit for blurting out really disturbing parts of her past in the middle of a conversation, and she sometimes calls you out on things -- she finds them at 5:30 in the morning, believe it or not -- that no other person would bring up. But she's a positive force and always means well. I made a point not to let her know I was leaving until the very second, afraid she'd tell people -- and with the wrong facts -- before I could. She found out in class, and as I left she told me she'd miss me, and I actually reciprocated the sentiment genuinely.

We also have Elaine, a Jewish woman with a lot of spunk and energy. She's a workout diva, and even though we're not in the same circle, per se, she was always excited to include me on invitations to her jewelry parties and whatnot. She wanted to swap emails b/c she said I'm motivating her to do the Chicago Triathlon. She's 10 times more in shape than I am, but apparently she likes the push. I'm happy to help.

I'll really miss Diana. I'm not the only one stupid enough to travel to the Y at 5 a.m. in the middle of an ice storm; Diana does the same thing. She has a genuinely calming and nice presence that unites everyones.

I made sure to say goodbye to Carol, a woman who used is ALWAYS smiling, last Friday, when I started telling my Y friends I'd be leaving. She once referred to me as the perfect little sister she never had. Hah! If only she were around me all the time. Carol used to come twice a week, but now is lucky to make it to one morning class -- and not the one I take. If I had continued to see her regularly, there's a good chance I would still be at the Y.

I can't forget Bert, or Stan, or Amy, or Stacey, who swiped our cards in the morning and had mine memorized. Or Megan, the instructor with great interveral workouts and whose music taste matched my perfectly. The last class of hers I went to she even played nearly an entire class of songs I had swapped with her. Ironic -- it made it hard to leave!

In fact, it's the people above, and the other people whose names I never learned, that I loved seeing every morning for two-and-a-half years. If any of us were gone for a week, we'd inquire about what was new.

I didn't mention KC yet, and on purpose. KC is 75-year-old woman who's at the pool every morning. But don't get an image of an elderly lady in your head. KC was a weight-lifting instructor and swim teacher with no body fat. She rides her bike to the Y every morning except in the snow -- possibly the rain, if it's light enough -- from Devon to School. She teaches at multiple gyms, too, and knows everything and everyone. She's a striking woman -- silver hair that would make any gray-haired person envious and very high cheekbones -- with a history of raising kids, living all across the U.S. (including Alaska), and sports. Lots of sports. In her 40s she took up figure competitions b/c she was bored. She'd been on basketball teams and was an official Red Cross lifeguard for years, too. There's more to her that I don't even know.

Don't get me wrong, she wasn't perfect. Sometimes KC got annoying. She was very entitled to her opinion and occassionally would spout off on the way my generation is handling things. Sometimes she wouldn't shut up, and all I wanted to do was *not* talk. But you couldn't help but appreciate her. She'd offer me personal training tips (did I mention she's a personal trainer, too?) when I was injured and she could tell I was still trying to work out,  and she always had a story to tell to back up her argument.  Pointless chatter is not in KC's repetoire.

The day after my boss was fired, I went to work out despite not having any sleep and feeling sick. After swimming a mere three laps, I left the pool. That morning she had tried to be chatty and talk, and I gave her a really dirty just-leave-me-alone look while I answered whatever her question or comment of the day was. I was so busy feeling sorry for myself I didn't even feel bad for being rude.

The next couple weeks I was barely around the gym -- I was sick, had a business trip and also started swimming at my new gym -- so I didn't see KC for a while.  When she did finally see mer, she took a good look and asked, "Sara, how are you. The day you got out of the pool, I knew something was wrong. I said, Sara never gets out of the pool. I've been so worried about you."

I felt horrible and thankful for her at the same time. I filled her in, and she was understanding and glad to hear things were going better. She related about life -- as she always does -- and said I was justified in everything I felt. This is all in a quick conversation at 5:20 a.m.

She's representative of the people at the Y. If someone fell out of habit, we'd check in. We care about each other's well-being and like having each other around.

Elaine asked me if I were going to do the Tour de Farms with the Y team this year -- I really wanted to last spring but had my cousin's wedding to go to -- and provided I'm allowed to join their team, I just might do it. It would be great to see the people I'd come to know as my Y family. Lord knows my new gym won't have that same community, but we shall see.

A Successful Friend Thanksgiving!

Check out that spread.. Isn't it beautiful?

That's Clive, Kelly, Kelly's friend/our friend Jen, Patrick and Brian yesterday at a very successful and gluttonous Friend Thanksgiving. Clive and Kelly -- who hosted a Thanksgiving last year that Brian and I visited after my own family's -- will be in Napa Thursday and invited us all over to celebrate anyway. This is the group Brian and I have spent the past few New Year's with and who comes with us to Jazz Fest. It's a great group dynamic -- we're all on the same page in terms of level of energy, being adventurous with food and just being genuine people, I'd say -- so  Friend Thanksgiving celebrated that and then some.

Our spread had a lot of garlic. Pictured you'll see Brian's garlic mashed potatoes; sweet potatoes in a sage and butter sauce; turkey sausage dressing; fancy green bean and garlic casserole; homemade cranberry sauce; brown-n-serve rolls (the best!) and  of course, turkey. The turkey was juicy -- they got a fresh one, which apparently is really difficult to order for the weekend before Thanksgiving -- and the eight or nine bottles of wine we killed (there were six of us) tasted more fantastic as the night went on.

My contribution: redneck crab dip and jump shrimp. Jen brought amazing chocolate chess square and Dutch custard apple pies.

Can't go wrong when you hit all the right notes.

Are we lucky or what? We're surrounded by good people and amazing food to share. Thanksgiving has become my favorite holiday because, as my former boss summarized it, there's no other focus than getting together with people you care about and being thankful for everything life's given you. No presents to distract, nor stress over a tree. Kelly made a point to keep the stress of dinner to a minimum; it was a perfect combination of home-cooked food and store-bought goodness.

During dinner we went around the table and said what we're thankful for. Some of the offerings: "That we all have jobs." "Friends." "Malbec."

Happy Thanksgiving.

REDNECK CRAB DIP
1 can white crab meat
1 package cream cheese (reduced fat OK)
1/2 lemon
garlic powder
cocktail sauce
crackers

Mix the crab meat, cream cheese and a sizable sprinkling of garlic powder in a bowl; squeeze 1/2 lemon into it and mix thoroughly. Form into a ball and place in dish; top with cocktail sauce so it's about 1/2 covered. Serve with crackers.

So, this whole gait change stuff...

I finally started the homework that Coach Leach gave me in my first steps to a new foot strike. I had to do them at work during my lunch break, part at my desk, part in a hidden corner of the parking lot.

I probably look like a moron in either exercise: in one, I'm standing straight, putting all my weight on one foot, and reaching back to touch the ground with my toe with my other foot. The other exercise -- the one I made sure to remain hidden -- involves walking backward.

10 sets of 10 repetition up to10 times a day, for both. That's a shit-load of exercises, and I'm coming nowhere near what I should be doing. How in the world will this every improve? They're not particuarly comfortable, either; both require a lot of core strength, which I have, but they work different muscles than I'm used to. My lower back kills. So these aren't a piece of cake, either.

I had to reschedule the appointment, so at least that buys me a little time for improvement before my first check-in with him.

Gait Analysis with Bill Leach: Visit 1

Yesterday afternoon I had my first appointment with running coach Bill Leach for my gait analysis, and I'm eager to find out the results.

When you go see Coach Leach, he videotapes your running on a treadmill from the side; your running directly from and to the camera; your running to and from the camera at an angle; and all sorts of posture positions, which can include standing normally with your shoes off and balancing on one leg while touching the other foot with your opposite hand. All on video. I wobbled a little on the balancing stuff, and I'm bummed about it because I have better core strength than that -- and core strength is what he preaches. Oh well, we shall see what his detailed report says. (He actually hands you a small binder.)

Couple things:

1) To best view your body as it runs, he needs you to wear contrasting colored tops and bottoms, and they have to be situated on your body so he can see your hips. That means I had to tuck a loose -- not baggy, but loose enough -- shirt into stretch running pants. It all looks atrocious, because a) the baggy shirt bulges from underneath the stretch pants, and b) I have a very high waist. Nice visual, huh? And it's all on camera! Thankfully, only he and I see the video.

2) We watched the video, and the initial assessment of my running is that my foot strikes far in front of my body, which is bad. I was expecting that, b/c it seems that most runners have this problem. The other thing is my feet somewhat cross over each other when I'm running. I'd never have known without that video!

We'll see how he treats the latter. As for the former, I already have homework of exercises to do to get my body comfortable with my feet landing further back.

More homework. I'm balancing so much right now -- freelance projects, ad class homework, working out, another side project, quality time with my man, and more -- that the last thing I wanted was more homework. But here we are. And I'll get it done.

My next appt. is Tuesday. To be continued!

My First Trip to Disney

My name is Sara. I'm 29 years old. And I've finally been to Disneyland. (!)

I've been incommunicado the past week mainly because I was traveling four days for business. Unfortunately for me, I had to leave Chicago for warm, sunny Anaheim, where I observed an award judging for work. I left knowing I'd be in a conference room from 7:30 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. at best, with evening activities to boot. I didn't plan on going to the park (and didn't see how I could do it with 3 hours of free time), even though I'd never been, and even though it was walking distance away. I credit my ambivalence with not being a "Disney kid," and therefore not being a Disney adult. My favorite Disney movies were Lady and the Tramp and The Little Mermaid, and I did fancy Snow White and Cinderella. But Bambi scared me, I thought Beauty and the Beast was lame, Fantasia -- my aunt's favorite -- put me to sleep, and I as I grew up, I just didn't follow all things Disney. My parents didn't pump me with Disney memorabilia either. 

So when my plane touched down and I found myself in Anaheim, I was more interested in finding a few moments to walk outside in the sun (didn't happen) than score a few hours in a park that would cost a shitload of money ($72).

But you can't stay at Disneyland -- we were at the outdated but still phenomenally run Paradise Pier -- and not want to load up on Mickey, Minnie and whomever those other animal characters are ("I saw Lylo -- or is it pronounced LeeeLo??"). The toiletries have Mickey Mouse ears on them, and and the room service menu featured the iconic Mickey-Mouse-shaped Waffle. I don't order room service, and I don't order waffles. But by golly, I put Mickey-Mouse-waffles on my to-do list.

That was Day 1. Day 2 I couldn't resist and bought a Twilight Pass for business travelers with a few hours to spare and took off solo. 

I loved Disneyland. You can see it in my face here, on Pirates of the Caribbean Ride:

My 3.5 hours in the park -- at night no less -- were magical. Maybe they were more magical at night -- I'm told you can see how outdated and run-down looking the park looks during the day, and I probably would have nit-picked things. But at night, all you can see are twinkly lights, and all you can hear is old-fashioned music that takes you back to being a kid ("It's a small world" and the like). I think I also liked it because I went mid-week, in the fall, and in the evening, so fewer families were around to get annoying.

I can't say that it was all I thought it would be, because I never really wanted to go. Yet within moments of crossing the front gate, I was struck with a pang of sadness when I realized all I'd missed out on as a kid. There was a year or two when I really wanted to go to Disneyland or Disneyworld, around fourth grade. I had asked about it previously because my friends talked about it, and I remember my mom talking about how expensive it was -- too expensive for us. After all, we took road trips to Michigan and used a friend's house for vacation.

I didn't argue, and didn't feel bad about it. But I did bring it up in fourth grade after my parents received a settlement from a car accident we were in. I remember they got about $3,000, which I realized was nearly enough to pay for a trip for our family to go on the Big Red Boat -- I figured it was better than my mom's having to walk around a theme park, which was another reason we couldn't go (she's disabled). I did all the research and presented my case to my parents, but I was rejected. I can't remember what we did with the money, but everything seemed to go toward bills. I forgot about it and moved on to wanting something else, like New Kids on the Block concert tickets (didn't go either).

So this pang of sadness that hit me: it made me tear up. I didn't feel sorry for myself, I just regretted missing out as a kid. Every kid was soo happy. And the few that started to have a meltdown were easily distracted by the next cool thing that was around the corner.

Of course, it's easy to bribe a kid to be quiet when all you have to do is reach for the magic wand they want to buy or buy some Mickey Mouse ears to keep 'em quiet. I went to Disney because I had the time and the finances -- I even got a discount to boot. I can see why my parents didn't take me; the place sucks you dry. Nothing's cheap. And who goes to Disney and doesn't get a souvenier? I came away with Christmas ornaments and Pirate scopes for Brian's nephews. I can only imagine how much parents have to buy.

I also came away with a greater appreciation for Walt Disney. His parks run seamlessly, and even staying at Paradise Pier I had the staff at my hands. I couldn't get my Mickey Waffle because I had to leave before room service began. But I've been told that that particular hotel even would make it happen. Also impressive: there were healthy food options at every food kiosk I saw -- even vendors devoted to selling fruits and other healthy snacks. It's a small detail that I imagine goes far with concerned parents.

So my trip to Disney really was special. In my 3.5 hours I rode Indiana Jones' adventure, Space Mountain (my favorite), the Alice in Wonderland ride, Haunted Mansion, Pirates of the Caribbean and some London streetcar thing. The hot dog and hamburger I had (can you tell I bypassed the healthy food?) were actually really good. I got a glimpse of Mickey during the Fantasia or Fantasma or whatever it's called show, too, and saw the fireworks. Good times.

I don't hate my parents for not taking me, but I was happy to be able to go. Now I just have to get back.

***
All the food I had -- at the hotel for the business meeting, in the theme parks, and at a formal dinner -- was good. Damn, Disney. You don't disappoint.

In a related note, we had dinner at the Napa Rose restaurant, which I recommend if you're looking for fine dining in Anaheim. I had scallops in a lobsert bisque for an appetizer and pheasant with fall lentils and shmears (don't remember what was in it -- too busy talking to digest the menu!) for my main.The execution was spot on, and the staff really attentive. Someone did order the venison, which they were out of. And how do they tell you this? "The Mouse has spoken, and we're unfortunately out of the venison." I'll have to use that line sometime.

And in the midst of tragedy, triumph

So this week our boss was fired. And then I got sick. And then I had to wrap my head around big changes. It's been a tough week.

But then this morning I found out my team won a national Gold Award -- top honor -- for Digital Magazine-General Excellence in the first-ever Digital "Azbees" from the American Society of Business Publication Editors. I had to email everyone who worked on it at their personal address because I'm the only one who still works there. It's weird, but it doesn't take away my pride in our team's winning this award. It was a short-lived project, but the digital magazine concept was brand-new to the industry.

When we started, the few digital magazines around were exact replicas of their print editions with a few links added in at most. But having a cool page flip (see examples below this post) doesn't cut it. They were hard to read because of the lack of design -- print size fonts and design don't translate well to the screen -- and, without including links, audio and video, didn't give you any reason to read a digital magazine other than that it's being online. We redesigned our product for use on a computer and to make the most of digital technology, allowing readers to have direct links to more information and first-hand interviews and other sources of information via audio and video.

And we succeeded, at least in the execution. Housing Giants' hey day came when the industry crashed, advertising dried up and the folks who were advertising didn't want to risk the few dollars they had left on a new concept. Hence, no more Housing Giants.

To win these awards, we had to present two consecutive issues of the magazine that showed, in addition to solid reporting and writing, that we made effective use of digital media in our storytelling as journalists. Feel free to check out the issues we submitted, below. The features really showcase the multimedia technology. There were opportunities to include more A/V, but we had to choose wisely what to include based on time and quality.

March 15, 2009: The 2009 National Sales and Marketing Awards Coverage
March 1, 2009: Profile on Dave Kosco, Bassenian/Lagoni Architects

Food We Eat at Home

Here's a recap of some recent favorites we've made from scratch (well, except for the pasta):

BRUSSELS SPROUTS!

I took a very simple recipe for Golden-Crusted Brussels Sprouts from the 101 Cookbooks blog that calls for the sprouts, olive oil and salt and pepper. I used thyme- and rosemary-infused olive oil we keep on hand for extra flavor. Perfection. What I love about this recipe is that it's very simple, and the directions tell you exactly how to deal with brussels sprouts, i.e. don't boil them.

Pasta with Italian-style turkey sausage (sweet), spinach, garlic, onion and olive oil

Notice a trend with us? It's amazing how different some of the same basic ingredients can taste with one alteration -- in this case, the turkey sausage. This dish is soooo simple and tasty, I'm sure we'll make it again. I was trying to duplicate a dish we had at Volare, but we didn't do it: I think at Volare they boil the sausage or cook it in a simple butter, because it didn't have an oily or sauteed feel to it, which I liked. We do a lot of that, and it's time to mix it up. I want to try again.

Did I write about this one already?

Breakfast at Dinner: boiled red new potatoes cut up and sauteed with peppers, onions and tomatoes with cumin. Really good.

The Comfort of Food (and a great boyfriend)

I just came home sick. I stuck through the day OK, then 4 p.m. hit and I progressively got worse. I'm supposed to be in ad class but called my partner to see if he can present for both of us. My nice instructor was really cool about it, which makes missing class easier, because I feel like shit.

I'm about to go lie down, but before I do so, I wanted to tell you what a wonderful boyfriend I have, because recounting how much I appreciate him reminds me that, even when I feel like crap -- because of a cold, because of craziness at work or for whatever reason -- I have Brian by my side.

As I wrote, yesterday was a horrible day at work. I called Brian at lunch time to tell him what was going on, and by the time I touched base with him at the end of the day, he had a "special dinner treat" started. All I had to do was pick up rosemary.

This is what was cooking (and sadly, my timing and camera quality does not capture it well): 

A fall risotto, comprising rosemary, mushrooms, roasted squash and a bunch of other stuff I can't remember because my head's fuzzy. I do know olive oil, butter and some type of special broth were involved. I asked him what recipe he based it off of, and he literally just glanced at a few risottos and whipped it up -- and cooked it perfectly! He knows I love risotto, squash and mushrooms. It couldn't have been better.

That's also a glass of Old Charter bourbon and Coke. I needed to take the edge off - a perfect pairing.

[Update: I did not lie down. I worked. However, it was truly advancing the "next big thing." Gotta invest to get where you want, right?]

A 5k Should Be Easier Without the Swim and Bike, Right?

Before the heat of the moment passes, I wanted to tell you about this Sunday's Run for Chocolate, which is by far one of the best races I've done in a while because of the location, organization, route, and perfect amount of chocolate. It was my first 5k since October 2006 because of the strain running has put on my knees and having to essentially ditch running. I stopped signing up for 5ks to instead "conserve" my knees for the 5ks in triathlons.

So I wasn't sure what to expect from Sunday's run. I went in realizing I didn't care about time. As we lined up, I loved not having the pressure to gut it out. I was calm and relaxed.

Of course, I spoke too soon. Brian and I took off, and I felt my adrenaline and the energy from the crowd of 12,000 people all moving down the same path propel me. I decided to push myself and not hold back -- I always have to hold back b/c of my knees, and did I really know how far I could take it? Besides, I figured, wouldn't it be a helluva lot easier to push the limits not having swam and biked first?

The good news is that I have a new personal best time for myself, 3.1 miles in 27:27, which is I think an 8:51 pace. I really pushed it toward the end, too! And it felt great. Bonus: amazing hot chocolate and the perfect portion of chocolate fondue (pictured) post-race. [Update: Not everyone had it so lucky -- especially if you ran the 15k. Read Flour Girl's account here.]

The bad news is my right knee is killing me. It's two days later, and in the pool this morning -- the three laps I did -- my knee hurt while I was swimming. It's as if all I built up -- being able to run sporadically -- has crumbled and my workout routines now affected, all because of my stupid knees. I think I do better at triathlon 5ks because my joints and muscles are completely warmed up by the time I get to the run and, at that point, I don't have it in me to go all-out, which is bad for me knees. I do the light jogs my joints will allow, and it seems to work well.

I need to rest and lay off the workout for another day, which does NOT make me happy but at least allows me the opportunity to work on all the other stuff (resume, homework, my own Web site, getting enough sleep, etc.) I need to accomplish. But it sucks to do so well and then get taken right back to injury.

I did schedule that appointment with Coach Leach I mentioned earlier, btw, and meet with him in two weeks. I wonder where I'll be then?

Survival Mode

It's 6:03 a.m., and I should be in the pool.

I'm drained and need to stay well. I have a scratch in my throat (allergies?). Heck, I should also be in bed.

Instead, 2 min. 54 seconds into my workout I left the gym this morning to work on my resume (gotta be prepared for the unexpected), or my ad assignment that's due tonight that I have yet to come up with, or leave early for work to get an issue off to the printer. I'm choosing to blog for therapeutic reasons first.

Yesterday was a hard day at work. Our office rock, my boss, was fired. I don't want to compromise my job and will not go into specifics. But yesterday's kick in the gut will be hard to recover from. Cumulative bruising does that to you.

I wanted to stay in bed this morning, but I went to the gym to relieve stress. Maintaining my workout routine is really important to me when I'm the most stressed. But being at the gym in itself was stressful because my body was tired, and my mind angry, and my lats and knees sore from this weekend's 5k (see next post).

I realized when I got home from the gym this morning I didn't know where to start. So I'm blogging to focus.

It's 6:09, and that was probably the best six minutes of "work" I spent in 24 hours.

Please keep me in your thoughts.