Back in the saddle (sort of)

Progress has been made! Not only did I survive the first week back at work post-pneumonia, but my muscles feel like they need a workout, which makes me smile because that's how I feel when I'm healthy; with this whole February sickness, going through the motions of a normal day was tiring enough. Quite the contrasts for a crazy woman who's used to 5 a.m. swims, bikes and runs.

I'm going to start with doing yoga, pilates and core work for a little bit at home and build up from there. I'd love to be back in the pool in a week, but we'll see how it goes.

Another indicator I'm getting better: I think I'm back to needing a workout in my daily routine to sleep well.

Feeling like me is a good thing. 

Update to www.SaraZailskas.com

I updated www.SaraZailskas.com this week to make sure I included the words content strategy on the home page and services page.

Content strategy involves deciding the best way to present information: What kinds of content? Which media? Which audiences? I'm a content strategist, which means I know how to brainstorm, plan, create and package information to tell the story -- and get deliverable results. I've been doing it for a while, and not many have. Gotta promote it!

I also write, edit and manage projects, too. Hopefully, the site conveys all that in 50 words or less. :)

***

Several people have asked me who designed my Web site, and I'm thrilled to thank (and recommend!) Paula Grishman of Graphica29. Paula was my art director on our award-winning digital magazine Housing Giants, which she took from solid to striking. She's also amazing to work with: extremely creative, open-minded, a good listener and a good negotiator. What can I say -- I hire the best! :)

Now I get it: The Rick Bayless craze

I've heard Rick Bayless' name associated with the word genius for a while now, but I've never tasted his food until this week when we went to Frontera Grill. Honestly, I wondered not if his food is over-hyped but by how much.

I get it now.

Those were my words after my first bite into the first appetizer that came out, goat enchiladas, aka Enchiladas de Barbacoa de Chivo. The dish features a "Mexican-style chile sauce," and I wish I knew spices well enough to name them all. All you need to know is that they were smooth, complex and perfectly balanced, which I wouldn't necessarily expect from any type of Medican chile sauce.

And the goat: I've had goat before in African restaurants, and it always tasted a little gamey and was often a little tough. Of course Bayless' farm-raised goat was perfectly tender and flavorful. I imagine the goat sacrificing itself for the Rick Bayless cause.

We also tried the ceviche trio and for mains ordered the duck breast with Oaxacan mole (on the side: a fantastic helping of sauteed spinach and fritters) and cilantro trout with a guajillo-laced sauce. That was my dish, and it was just what I was in the mood for: something really flavorful that didn't get its punch from a heavy, greasy sauce. The smokey green beans and cheesy garlic mashed potatoes hit the spot, too. (See the menu for more details).

Given my love for food and trying restaurants with Brian, you'd think I would have made a beeline years ago to Frontera or Topolobompo -- especially considering they're couple miles away from where we live. Not only am I not one to rush out to something just because of a name, but until recently I didn't think I liked regional Mexican cuisine that much, mostly because I had had some overpriced moles at a restaurant and didn't like 'em. But I'm coming around -- flash back to my two trips to Mixteco Grill in January -- and having world-class preparation definitely helps.

I may or may not have bounced around in my seat when we potted Bayless in the kitchen. When you eat something that good, how can you not get star struck?

This isn't a groudbreaking discovery in the world of foodies, I know. For me, Frontera was an education -- and a damn good meal.

WE'VE GOT RESERVATIONS AT SCHWA

After one and a half months and one missed call, I finally got us reservations at Scwha. It's the dream we've been chasing -- the dream to return for Brian and I, to experience it for his brother Patrick -- with reservation nightmares.

If you don't know Schwa, take some time to get to know the story of wonder, a nervous breakdown, a hiatus and back to wonder.

It used to be that you'd call and have to book out months in advance. And calling to get a hold of someone to take your reservation was nearly impossible, thanks to the fact that five (I think it's five) people run the entire place. That was Brian's experience a year ago. Now, you have to call and either 1) listen to a repeated "Voicemail Box Full" message day after day or 2) Leave your information for a reservation request for the following month and pray you're around to get the call when it does come -- weeks later.

You'll hear stories about how to talk to someone. "Call between 2 and 3 -- that's when Michael Carlson told me he answers the phone." "Call around noon, when they'll likely clear out the voicemail box." "Try showing up in the afternoon."

Nothing worked. But I did get a call.

I missed that call while I was on a business trip. The message I left detailed my name, phone number, the number of people in the party and the date we'd prefer, along w/ the note that we were totally flexible. The message they left weeks later came from what sounded like either a boy who was 12 or a man who was stoned (maybe both?) and it went like this:

"Hi, this is Schwa returning your call. If there's anything we can do for you, please give us a call back."

What the fuck.

It's maddening, of course. I left another message and eventually stopped trying. Then I came down with the flu and pneumonia and forgot about it entirely.

Lo and behold, Michael Carlson himself called today to tell me -- surprise! -- I was on a wait list for tonight (really?) and could come any time I wanted. Tonight. "Oh  my God!" I said. "We'll be in!" Then I remembered our long-standing Frontera reservations, and the fact I'm still not up for alcohol, and that we'd have to check with Patrick. A lot of ifs. But the pressure! He talked at high speed and was very nice, but he wanted a decision, and he wanted one now.

I found out he was currently eating at Frontera as he returned me call. He promised Schwa would be amazing. I told him I already knew that.

Thankfully it hit me to slow the fuck down and ask questions. Turns out there were two weeknight reservations in March and I ended up getting one on St. Patrick's Day.

We hung up. Then I used my inhaler.

This is way too stressful of an experience. Their system is horrible!Yet they know they can do it because they're that good, and people will call, and they will phone-stalk the place. We liken it to the best dining experience. Ever.

Hopefully the stress is till worth it.

***
Yup, we've got reservations at Frontera Grill tonight -- my first time, Brian's second or third -- for our Tuesday Night.

It feels good to be getting back to normal life, even if it is still in slow motion.

A dose of good people will do it

I went back to work yesterday, and it totally lifted my spirits. I have great coworkers: they make me laugh, they make me feel loved, and they're a perfect dose of good people that I need regularly.

I finally could stop talking to myself for company and give my NCIS habit a break.

I did have to work from home and head to the doctor today for a breathing treatment because my asthma, which I thought I had outgrown completely, has come back in a bad way. But that's OK. That's what nebulizers (sp?) and inhalers are for. :)

Trying not to get bummed out, but ...

I'm doing a lot better since I last wrote. Thursday I had a sort of breakthrough in which I finally started to feel like myself and began moving around faster than I had been. Since then, I've had a reason to go out every day that isn't taxing -- a follow up doctor's appointment, an appointment with an accountant, going to a restaurant for lunch -- yet always leaves me exhausted. Not exhausted enough to sleep easily at night, unfortunately, but I'm just wiped out.

Tomorrow's my first day back at work, and I'm not quite sure how that's going to go.

This is really started to wear on me mentally. I've been sick for a full month now -- haven't felt like myself for a month -- and it's depressing. It's hard to look forward to seeing my coworkers again when I know it's going to tire me out.

It's tough to stay positive, and I'm doing my best. What I'm taking away from this is the perspective it's given me into the lives of people who aren't healthy and live life like this: constantly feeling worn down and having that consequence hang over your head. It really does start to dictate your decisions, and rightfully so, to a degree.

I'm thinking of elderly persons, or those, like my mom, with chronic conditions leaving them tired, out of breath or not motivated. I now know what it's like to be impeded by my energy level. At least when I've dealt with other injuries it didn't wear out my mind or my entire body; I just dealt with the inconvenience of the injury and dealt with frustrations from it -- still feeling quite emotionally involved.

No, I'm just bummed out.

It'll be fine, and hopefully, before I know it things will be back to normal. A month flew by; I'm sure the next couple of recovery weeks will, too.

Kissing my hard work goodbye

So this entire time I've been sick I've been gauging what my body can and can't do.

Most of the time I want to lie down but I do walk around the house or just take on something -- wiping off all the touch points in the house with a disinfectant wipe, for example -- to move around a little because I feel like it's good for me. And then I'm tired.

Or take today: I had a half-hour conference call this morning to organize my team for the week ahead (I'm project manager for one of the mags I work on) and then spent an hour-and-a-half cleaning up my inbox, replying to little stuff. That tired me out. So I had lunch and rested, and then had an hour-long phone call about work, which I couldn't reschedule. Then I was really exhausted.

I watched a movie -- resting, right? -- and wanted to watch another, which meant I had to check the mail to see if Netflix came. The climb three-flights up exhausted me, on top of making me dizzy (I'm frequently dizzy thanks to the Levaquin). I say down and watched something else.

I got tired of resting and realized my butt hurt from all this sitting around.  I decided to try to balance on one leg -- only part of one of the core exercises I would do -- and found my body shaking, heart racing. That's what freaked me out. A few weeks ago I spent 45 min. doing core work alone, and that was after an hour's worth of spinning or swimming. How can I get to this place?

I know I'm sick, and the thought of working out, for example, doesn't appeal to me at all because my body isn't up for it. But I am walking around -- a lot different than when I had the flu and could barely get out of bed -- so I guess I just assumed my balance and something as simple as climbing stairs wouldn't be a problem.

I feel like all my hard work is slipping away. And not being able to do balance exercises to even keep it up a little bit really bums me out.

I have no idea when I'll be able to work out again -- I know it'll be a couple weeks yet -- and I have no clue when I'll get back up to where I was. I know I'll be fine for the races, but that's not good enough for me.

3 Years of a Very Foodie Valentine's Day

It's Valentine's Day, and although I have pneumonia, I'm thrilled to say I can eat. Not the same quantity, of course, but my taste buds are in tact again, which means I can enjoy today's lineup. For brunch: Grecian strained yogurt; Whole Foods-made granola that I can already tell has a hint of vanilla; and blueberries, raspberries and blackberries. Dinner will be our traditional Valentine's Day dinner, takeout Indian. And it's not takeout b/c of my condition, which leaves me enough energy to, say, type this blog post before taking a nap.

For all three Valentine's Brian and I have been together, we've ordered in an assortment of Indian dishes and camped out. By default, we avoid restaurants on V-day because of how chaotic restaurants generally are, but the tradition started when we found ourselves confronted with an in-your-face-about-love holiday just five days into our relationship. Adjusting to our recent change from friends to significant others was a lot, and declaring it full out with all things red and expensive was scary -- and that was for me. He was the guy -- I can only imagine.

I remember I made us have a talk about it before the big day hit. As much as I didn't want to make it a big deal, I didn't want it to be awkward or get disappointed -- ignoring it would be a bummer after 26 years single.

And so we decided on the takeout and makeout strategy. He brought me a red rose, and I bought him the cookbook Booty Food, which we had blushed over earlier in the week while walking around Barnes & Noble together. (I still like to make him blush.) We debated on cuisines and ordered Indian, and the food was good enough.

So I guess this isn't much of a story about foodie food as it is about the foodies who eat it.

It was the perfect. A good meal, a good boyfriend ... what more could a girl ask for?

***

I just wrote about love and Valentine's Day. Like I said, I spent it single 26 years, even if I did have the occasional love interest (Paul, 7th Grade, delivered a carnation candy gram to my lunch table). I didn't always love the day -- who likes being reminded of what you don't have? -- but never hated it. The way I saw it, I had a lot of good friends who made the day fun. Even as an adult I sent V-day cards to my best friend and still send them to my godmother and parents. (If Lorraine were still with us, she'd get one, too.)

Here's wishing you a day full of love -- friend, lover, family and all.

So about that Great Sickness of 2010 ...

Yeah, I, uh, have pneumonia. That's on top of the sinus infection and throat infection.
My doctor diagnosed it yesterday, and I just read about it on WebMd (couldn't help it), and it's a textbook case. At least now I know why I'm so sick and feel the way I do.

A proper thank you

I have a wonderful boyfriend. We celebrated our three-year anniversary this week, and he didn't balk when I had to reschedule our plans (still sick) he arranged for dinner months ago -- at L20 no less -- that we had been anxiously waiting for. His gift to me was a full-day of spa treatments at The Peninsula, arguably one of the nicest hotels in Chicago, because he knows I've had a rough go lately and knew it would be special.

The gifts are thoughtful, touching and more than I could ever expect or want. What means the most though is that he's there for me, saying and doing just the right things, when I'm at my lowest points: during difficult family issues, like cancer; the death of someone near and dear; an incredibly stressful stretch at work (I'm doing great, but the work situation is unhealthy); and The Great Sickness of 2010. He's run to the store for Gatorade and Kleenex; called his friends to bring me food when he was out of town for a funeral and I could barely get out of bed; and refused to let me help clean up or do anything, really, when I've been well enough to go to work but miserable enough to want to go to bed as soon as I get home. I've known many men who wouldn't go nearly as far for their partners as Brian does for me.

I want to get him a little something or do something for him thank him for being him. I want it to be sentimental but not top of mind. Not over the top, but more than a sincere card. And although food is one of our favorite things to explore together, I want to think beyond that.

If you have any ideas, my ears are open. Thanks. :)

Update: I've fielded the suggestions of truffles (as in the mushrooms), cooking him dinner and a heart-shaped cake. I really like the cake idea! The other ideas are great, but the timing's a bit off: I recently bought him truffle oil (and we received it as a gift, too) and we cook each other dinner frequently. I like the suggestions tho! Helps me think.

Flu food and products I recommend

Of course your taste buds are all out of whack when you're sick -- you're miserable, and why would you be able to enjoy food to make your misery a little less horrible?

You can follow all the advice on the Internet about what to eat, and I did. But knowing which brand and type of product can be key. All of these foods below can be made or gathered when you are barely able to walk, can't see straight and can't commit to any amount of time to do anything because you'll have to run to the bathroom. My recommendations:

1) Mom's chicken noodle soup (pictured). Find my mom, and have her make you some soup.
2) Don't have my mom? I purchased four canned chicken noodle soups, only to be revolted by each: no matter the brand, they all had a metallic taste, and the noodles were fake. Don't fear: you can buy my mom's backup to her chicken noodle soup, Lipton Chicken Noodle that's dehydrated and sold in a box. Sounds disgusting, but I promise you, it's a million times better tasting than the canned stuff. All you do is add water.
2) You're supposed to eat rice when you can't hold anything down. The easiest and best tasting I found out is Success boil-in-a-bag rice. They say it's foolproof, and considering the condition I was in when I made it, they are telling the truth.
3) Apple sauce -- with cinnamon. This stuff is loaded with sugar -- when I'm healthy I opt for the natural, unsweetened stuff -- but you're sick, you need the calories, and you deserve it.
4) White bread. Like the apple sauce, I generally avoid white bread and opt for wheat when I'm healthy, but I wasn't. And the stomach likes white bread a ton more than digesting wheat.
5) Hot water with honey. I like to drink this healthy, too.


I don't recommend the bananas, per the BRAT diet you're supposed to follow (bananas, rice, apple sauce and toast). The consistency and varied taste turned me off, but that's just me.

I also owe a lot of gratitude to the following products:

• Gatorade
• Colgate toothpaste, to get all the sugar from the Gatorade off my teeth
• Disinfectant wipes
• Charmin Mega Roll soft toilet paper
• Mucinex DM
• Chloraseptic sore throat spray. Warning: It's addictive.
• Kleenex anti-viral tissues. Expensive, soft, and purportedly anti-viral. I'm sold. 

When you're sick, certain comforts can make ya feel at least a little better. At least I've found a few to count on.

The Great Sickness of 2010: Day 18

Sickness blows.

I haven't felt well since Jan. 18. I remember it distinctly, because it was the day I put in a really good morning spin just shy a few hours before my flight to Las Vegas for the International Builders' Show. I felt great -- so great I wouldn't feel guilty about skipping a few workouts because of my travels.

That week was rainy and cold, and the days were long -- 18 hours or so. My colleagues and I were worn down. I came back on Friday not feeling like myself, then got hit with the Flu Truck the following Tuesday. I stayed sick for a full week, felt decent enough to go to work and move around for five days (nothing taxing! Just going through motions), and then KAPOWIE! "Fuck you, Sara" the flu virus (or whatever the hell it is) said to me. "We're not done yet."

And here I am, at home, again, waiting for it to do its thing to my chest, ears, nose and throat. I had a major deadline that I had to work through for a few days at the beginning of the week, but as soon as we were done yesterday I made a public declaration: I have been given sick days, and I'm going to use them. I'm still in bed.

It's getting a little tiring. I'm watching my muscles soften up, and it kills me; I had intensified my workouts and changed 'em up so that I was seeing a real difference in my body and the way my muscles toned. I bought two new swimsuits in Vegas! They dance in the back of my head now, as I picture mushiness and flab spilling over my new lavendar bikini.

Of course, I won't lose everything, and as Brian told me, I'm healthy enough (hah! really?!) of a person that my strength and muscles will come back easily. I felt so crappy when I had the flu, I didn't care about missing the gym. But now I'm in that feels-crappy-but-is-still-mentally-there state, where I can recall my old life, the real me. Not sick Sara. My coworkers look at me with pity and concern, and Brian checks in on me constantly and makes sure I have whatever I need to feel better. I appreciate it all. But more than two weeks of feeling like an invalid is getting annoying.

I'm so ready to get on with life. Hopefully, that's happening: I can breathe through both nostrils today, enough to be able to use a homemade Netie Pot. It's the little things, right?