Resolution to Succeed

A few months ago, I had a great conversation with a long time friend about perspectives. He asked me to look around and notice a particular color in my vicinity. Taking note of all the things that were visible in my area but paying such close attention to what was pointed out already, I lost the attention to detail needed to answer questions about what wasn't in my view. What did this mean to me? Options. 

There are so many options available to me to help me become a better person that if I focus all of my attention on what is right in front of me, I can lose sight of those options. Being a better person means that I have to continue to keep my eyes wide and my mind open to the various possibilities. Most people don't care as much as my success as I do my own, despite my passion for helping others see their own potential. 

"Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other." 

-Abraham Lincoln 

Expanding my options, I ventured into some new mac and cheese options while surfing pinterest again: I tried Chorizo Mac and Cheese and Avocado Mac and Cheese.

I'll share the Chorizo Mac and Cheese, a recipe that I found on Pinterest (pinned from Simply Recipes).  The recipe is a bit spicy if you use both spicy jack cheese and from the spice of the chorizo. If you can't handle the heat, feel free to use monterey jack cheese instead.

INGREDIENTS

2 cups elbow macaroni

1 cup milk

1 teaspoon corn starch

4 ounces shredded cheddar cheese (about 1 cup)

4 ounces shredded pepper jack cheese (about 1 cup)

6 ounces Mexican chorizo

1/2 cup minced red onion

2 Tbsp flour

2 teaspoons lime juice

2 Tbsp breadcrumbs

1 Tbsp butter

You can get the cooking directions on simplyrecipes.com

I added a handful of chopped cilantro, too. 

Adding a dollup of sour cream and guacamole on top makes for a fabulous complement to the dish. Enjoy and remember, keep the options open, even when it comes to food. :) 

Solo Sports

I have frequently heard that distance running is an individual sport. True. I run with my own legs from start to finish. I use my own lungs and pump my own arms to get my body moving in a forward direction. It's true, a person can train for and compete in their own races with minimal human interaction. Like a big city, a runner can easily get lost in the crowds at immense races like the LA marathon. I understand that running does not require the intense teamwork needed from baseball or basketball to win a game.

In the literal sense, a runner can be out in the world, alone. With enough self discipline, a runner can train for his or her own marathon. I know, because I've done it. I created my own training schedule and got myself up  to 18 miles on my own, running the streets and hills of San Francisco with nothing more than my pedometer and my music. Training for the marathon was the only thing that helped me survive the loneliness I felt in the city. I was by myself on those runs along in Balboa Park, around Breaker Beach, through the Presidio, with my own thoughts, racing against the sunset to get home, running through sheets of rain, and hoping I didn't get hit by a negligent driver as I tried to cross the road at the same time as they did.  I did it, and I barely finished.

For the last seven seasons since I started training with the high school students and other adult leaders, I have learned that although running can be an individual sport, training with others can elevate a persons' performance more than they could ever do alone. From August until March, I can depend on at least thirty other runners to join me on the streets of Los Angeles. We will tackle the increased weekly mileage together as we train for the LA marathon, rain or shine, hills or straightaways. I don't know if I would be as consistent with my own training if I didn't have these runners.


On our team, some of the runners push themselves to keep up or stay in front of me in the same way I push myself to run a bit faster when I see another runner in close proximity.  I can push myself through the hills and negative split can serve as an example to others that continue to learn how to manage their endurance. The faster runners often run in a small pack to encourage and push each other in hopes to reach their goal of sub-four hour marathon (and so they don't get lost).

Within the team of high school students, there is a range of experience from seasoned marathoners training for their fifth marathon while others are training for the first time, determined to finish the season. We have coordinated pacing groups, lead by a runner that has completed the marathon at least once so that they can help answer questions or offer support and suggestions. These marathoners-in-training are certainly learning how to work together to tackle the task of completing twenty-six point two miles. Sure, each one of them could train for the race alone, but the vital information from seasoned runners would be missing and the runners would have to learn by making mistakes instead of learning from past errors of their teammates.

I have to admit, teaching teamwork in a traditional "solo" sport isn't easy. But I have learned from my fellow coaches and from the mistakes I have made in coaching distance runners in the past. I have modified the training based on the vibe of the group, incorporated team leaders in leading practice and relied on their input to create an effective workout. I have learned, through much trial and error, how to manage and increase mileage on our long runs to help the runners reach optimal performance on the big day.  I like to share my successes. Most take advantage, others like to learn the hard way.

I was thinking about this the other day as I stood with my family making our several dozen tamales for Christmas Eve dinner. Each year, many of the women in the Torres family organize on December 23rd to make tamales for the entire family. Over forty people to feed with nearly one hundred pounds of masa, several pounds of lard, beef and chicken later, we have seven pots of tamales on the stove for our families to devour and take home as leftovers. I usually make the sweet tamales solo on the morning of Christmas Eve.  Me and my "solo" sports.

Potato-Fennel Gratin

This year, my cousin suggested that I start on them in the evening while everyone was still in aprons and in tamale-making mode. Why not? I thought. I could make this a solo sport like I have been so used to doing, or I could use the help offered to me. I took the help and we finished another 15 pounds of pineapple masa, chocolate chip masa and raisin masa. It gave me a chance to make a potato-fennel gratin to share with my family on Christmas Eve (the local Coachella market didn't have any Gruyere cheese so I settled on an aged-Salvadorian cheese). They loved it.

I also was able to make a new flavor tamale, pumpkin-raisin tamales. I was inspired by Tamara's Tamales in West Los Angeles that also offer a pumpkin tamale on their menu. My family loved those too. I realized that there are a few recipes for pumpkin tamales online. I think that if I did some research, I could have used one of them. But I didn't. And my portions of spice came out pretty well in the mix.

On Christmas Day, I convinced my cousin and two aunts to work out with me at the local high school. Originally, I only invited my cousin Vince. Since we overindulged on tamales the day before, I knew I could get at least one of my aunts to come out. The other came begrudgingly.  We knocked out a modified crossfit.com met-con.

Cooking, like marathon training, is really about trial and error while using others' experiences as a guide to being better. Both can easily be a solo sport, but what's the fun in that?

moving on....smarter and more humble.

On Sunday, Students Run LA took over the streets of La Puente for the La Puente Main Street Run. I ran the fastest 10K I have ever run-1:00:24. For me, this is incredibly fast. At the six mile mark, my Nike+ app voice told me my average pace and I did a little squeal. I knew if I picked it up, I could run the last .2 of the 10K fast enough to hit one hour. I am still proud of myself for pushing myself even though my legs were begging to stop.

Two weeks before that, I ran the toughest marathon I have ever run in my life (aside from the first). The Long Beach International Marathon course is a beautiful and scenic run. We run by the beach, on bike paths, near the Aquarium, by Cal State Long Beach, through very pretty residential areas, and near the marina.  Taking in the sites distracted me from any pain I was feeling along the run, initially.

The race started off great. I was running at a pretty swift pace for the first ten miles. When I realized that I was running faster than my normal pace, I slowed down. I started to pick it up in the later miles but then I started to feel like my insides were heating up. I drank more water, threw water on my head, poured water down my back but nothing seemed to help cool me off. At mile 24, I slowed down again. I started to get a little dizzy and uncomfortable. I wasn't feeling any pain, except for the discomfort of having run 24 miles. Despite this, I was still sort of on pace to at least tie my PR.

I was not prepared for what my brain was telling my body in the last mile. I hit mile 25 and checked my clock 4:52:37 (or something like that). I wasn't going to PR but I could easily hit my fastest time if I pushed it just a little bit.

In my head, my thoughts started to scold my body "what are you doing to yourself? Why are you still running? No one is at the finish line waiting for you, you can quit! You should quit, you're not going to make your PR anyway." That last 1.2 miles of the race was the toughest, ever. I had to fight with my body to keep going. Keeping my thoughts quiet was next to impossible. I finished the race at 5:12:17.

I don't even remember what the finish line looked like, I couldn't tell you what the gender of the person putting the medal over my head, because the two hours after I crossed the finish line (finally) were a blur. I drank the entire bottle of water they gave me at the end in almost one gulp and inhaled the pretzels I got in my finishers bag. I was delirious. Still dizzy. I needed to sit down. I remember walking to the park and laying down under a tree. I took a nap. I woke up an hour later and puked my brains out. And I still had to walk to the train to go home. 

After reading this, one wonders, why in someone's right mind would a marathoner put their body through this...ever?

Because, not all the races are like this. Most races, if runners are adequately prepared and properly trained, are fantastic. Finishing 26.2 miles is the most humbling accomplishment in my life. I still get teary-eyed at the finish line even after having completed eleven of them.  I am blessed to know that my healthy body can handle the pain, and endure the pressure of this demanding activity.

I told myself during the horrendous run when I was talking myself onto the ledge, that I was never running another marathon. Yeah, I'm lucid now, and that's not true. I will run another one, at least to prove to the negaholic in me that I can still do it-and do it well. I have plenty of other marathons to run, plenty more miles to log and exciting more stories to tell.

Before the Long Beach marathon, I never believed people when they said they just had a bad race. I didn't think that could ever be the case. I would think that they just didn't prepare well enough, they didn't drink enough water the week before, they didn't eat properly or they wore the wrong socks or clothes (?!?! I was full of excuses). I'm a believer now. Some runners just have shitty races.

And then we move on to the next race and hope for a better performance.

Who are you?

Carolyn is a good friend of mine that I met at work. She's a teacher of English and of young people.We haven't worked together in several years, but we both still work in education, helping to transform the lives of young people every day, and serving as a role model in many ways.  We've run marathons and half marathons together. She's faster than me and pretty much kicks ass. This past week, we had a very pleasant discussion about culture and how people understand it in their lives.  These controversial topics are so common with us, we have similar perceptions about some things and very different perspectives on others. I appreciated this particular conversation because it has been something on my mind for the last couple of weeks.

I spent a good majority of my life trying to figure out who I am, understanding how I fit into this huge concoction of cultures in this amazing city in California. I grew up in a homogeneous community with most people of the same values and content with the lives they lead in the small town. It was a great place to grow up, but I grew out of it pretty quickly.  I understood and spoke a bit of Spanish because it was (and still is) the only way I could communicate with my grandparents and my grandmothers siblings. I learned how to cook most things Mexican, with a few American dishes sprinkled in moderately. My grandmother enjoys listening to cumbia but my grandfather was all about the big bands. He loved them.  We have a traditional and yet eclectic upbringing.

After three decades of living on this planet, it still sometimes bothers me when someone insinuates that I'm not quite as "cultured" as I could be. It's like a low blow. Not really a blow to me, but a blow to my parents and my grandparents. That pisses me off.  And I won't get over it in the same way some people won't get over the fact that culture means different things to different people (even within the same culture), that is what makes us different and awesome. 

Culture in my life was about family and food. That's how we understood our Mexican roots in this previously Mexican (now "American") land. There are few basic foods that my grandmother did not teach me (only because I'm not a big fan of chile relleno so I didn't bother learning how to cook them) but most of my dishes are seasoned a la mexicana. I even put cinnamon in my morning coffee. 

I grew up in southern California.  I learned how to speak both Spanish and English, how to make tortillas as a kid and taught myself how to make crepes as an adult. If there is anything that I can identify with, it's the ability to fit in with a plethora of cultures, living on the border of two cultures (one of them already a melting pot) and creating a nice home between the two.  I am defined by everything around me and maintain my roots with what is important to my life, not what someone else thinks it should be because of my last name. Plus, my novice home cooked meals are pretty bad ass. Ask my friends.  I have to thank my friend for reminding me that food is one important artery to culture.

I don't have a real recipe for the dish below-I tried to measure the portions when I made it yesterday. I've made it many times for my friends and have gotten pretty good reviews. My tia inspired this way of making the dish. I have a short cut that most people would shun (canned sauce) but whatever. Try it....then let me know if I should change it.

Chilaquiles makes 2 servings
2 eggs

2 servings of corn tortilla chips*

4 oz of "El Pato" brand Tomato Sauce (Mexican Hot Style) in the yellow can

Can be found this near the tomato sauce at most grocery stores-at least in southern Cali

1 tbspn Parmesan cheese

1/2 tbspn canola oil

1 teaspoon of oregano

1/4 cup of onion, diced

1/4 cup of mozzarella cheese, shredded (queso fresco could be a substitution)

salt and pepper to taste

*one can use any kind of tortilla chips, but this meal will come out best with restaurant style, thick tortilla chips that were friend from a thick tortilla-almost pita-like in thickness. The traditional brands usually found in the chips section of grocery stores will get soggy and although they work-won't be the best looking plate. If you can't find any, it would be ideal to fry your own tortillas into chips. 

Using medium heat, warm the canola oil in a medium sized frying pan. Toss in the diced onions and let them sizzle.  While the onions are cooking, beat the eggs into a bowl, add in the Parmesan cheese and mix add a dash of salt and pepper. 

Once the onions are slightly browned, add in the tortilla chips then pour in the egg scramble. Mix the eggs through the chips. Once the eggs are mostly cooked (a bit runny) add in the tomato sauce. Save the rest of the sauce in the refrigerator. Lower the heat of the stove and mix the eggs, sauce and chips together so most chips have egg and sauce on them. Mix in the oregano. Once the eggs are fully cooked. Turn off the heat. Sprinkle the mozzarella cheese over the top of the pile. Serve hot.

Some people like to add a dollop of cream or some guacamole over the top. Feel free to add that. 

I ate both servings. That morning, I ran 4.5 miles and walked two so I allowed myself to eat both. :) 

Enjoy!

international eating

Anthony Bourdain is a bad ass.

Yea, I think I'm on the late freight with this discovery, considering he wrote his books many years ago, has (had?) a television show and is considered a celebrity chef. It's amazing where life can take a person.

I just finished Medium Raw after spending a day reading his pissed off angry Kitchen Confidential biography/food writing book. I toyed with the idea of pursuing a chef's profession, but after reading what he has to say about the business, I was convinced-otherwise.

I will not go back to working in the food industry. Back? Yeah. I spent a couple of years working with food services while in college, I made hundreds of smoothies, pretzels, hot dogs, and popping popcorn for basketball games. After a year, I was promoted to cash manager and quit because of the stress of that responsibility. And I was nineteen years old! Things do not change when making food for others. People always complain. Food is not ALWAYS perfectly made, but made well enough to be eaten.

Medium Raw gave me such a better appreciation of describing food for people reading or listening to me describe. I read, and read...addicted to indulging on the words describing Bourdains' indulgent experiences in the various countries. I could almost taste the tacos he savored or the description of the fish that melted in his mouth.

Bourdain does seem to have a soap box of his own, attempting to educate people not only about the goodness of food all over the world, but also in food etiquette. When Anthony got on his soap box about the importance of manners and accepting meals no matter what they serve in whatever country we travel to.

This part of the text immediately took me back to Asilah, Morocco. My friends and I took a weekend trip to Morocco while I was living in Spain for a semester. We decided to go into town, knowing that most people would be at home-it being Ramadan and all.

The bell boy at the hotel invited us to his home with his family. His mother made us a delicious meal of I have no idea what. It was super exciting to taste everything on the table, in the different textures and flavors. I remember that I kept asking "what is that?" and eating it anyway because I was so excited to be in the coolest place with some of the most hospitable people I have ever met.

I think back at the four months I spent in Spain, indulging on paella, churros y chocolate, tortilla, fresh bread, and sangria. I also think of my "food allergy" of swine and how much that completely affected my trip. I feel so horrible to lose that experience. I wonder what it would have been like to taste jamon serrano along with my manchego cheese.

I probably offended the family I lived with when I explained to them that I didn't eat the best thing on the menu (according to them). At 22, I didn't think much of it. At 31 (and after reading Bourdain's justification), I understand that I could have sucked up the pain of eating "different" foods than my body is used to eating.

It is my intention to travel back to the motherland. I want to change my way of viewing particular foods (and maybe taste them) next time.

30 days

Today marks 30 days since my first day at LAXCrossfit thanks to an AmazonLocal deal. Membership over. Yesterday was my last hard workout at the box. I start training for the LA Marathon with my adolescent team of runners this Sunday.

One of the reasons I started Crossfit (besides the sweet deal) was because I wanted to learn more exercises and training activities to incorporate into my workouts and believe me I did.

I also learned that I tend to err on the side of caution and with a little support and encouragement, can surprise myself with my abilities. Yesterday I did a back squat with 80lbs on the bar. Holy crap, I thought to myself. I can do this! It was almost twice the amount of weight as one month ago. James, the evening coach said that I made it look easy. Ha! That was the compliment of the year.

If there was one important theoretical concept I learned while at the box three times a week (twice last week because of the car accident/start of work/too much drama taking up my time. I know I said I'd go four times, but that was just too difficult) was to remember what I am capable of and to expand my abilities from my starting point-not someone else's.

This revelation surprised me yesterday as I was dragging my exhausted body upstairs to my bedroom after the workout. Seeing as this program is so intense and has such an incredible reputation for bad-ass-100%-in-your-face-intense workouts and the misperception that crossfitters are lifting hundreds of pounds (some of them are, but not everyone in the box does), I expected to be pushed much harder than I was. There was a strong emphasis on proper form and getting it right rather than going big.

I learned how to lift weights properly and have since learned to get better at proper form (my arms have taken much self-criticism because they can't stay straight for thrusters or jerks).

I learned that I don't have to put a hundred pounds on a bar to look cool if the work out calls for multiple reps for many minutes of the same weight. I want to be able to last during the workout until the last second-that's the endurance athlete in me. Despite the group workouts or the fact that I had to memorize my box-mates names for each workout, it was training for me. I improved for me. That was exciting.

I truly appreciate the team mentality and the support I got from the other box mates during our one hour of sweat and muscle confusion. It was cool to hear the words of encouragement and it was nice that others appreciated mine. I loved hearing how great I did during a workout and that Kasuza (the morning coach) believed I could move up another level of KettleBell weight or that I was getting better at my kipping pull up. I know I push my runners to believe in themselves, but I think I can do a better job at showing them how to do that, thanks to what I saw from Kazusa.

There are some things that I probably won't incorporate into the marathon training-the paleo diet being one of them. I can hardly get teenagers to eat more than hot cheetos and soda, much less get them to eat and enjoy spinach instead of a granola bar. Baby steps. Plus, I love bread. Freshly baked bread and manchego cheese takes me back to Spain every time I have the opportunity to savor them together. I won't give that up-and I don't expect others to give it up either. It is my hope that the youngsters also incorporate "better" foods into their system too.

I am contemplating going back to the box after SRLA marathon training season. I had a great time. My knees are just now getting used to the extra weight and my body is barely getting used to the perpetual soreness.

On another note, my whole body yearns a long run. I think I'll do that this weekend.

Fear of the tuber

I think potatoes get a bad rap.

Maybe it's because people love fried potatoes, or maybe because they are so scrumptious and people can't control themselves from eating many many many servings of those oh so delicious, starch infused tubers.

Ever since I could walk, potatoes were my best friend. My grandparents always had a house full of potatoes, rarely would they buy them. My grandfather, a local mechanic, would often be paid or thanked in rations of fruits and vegetables from local farms from the Coachella Valley. The potato sacks would sit behind the kitchen door, waiting to be cooked for breakfast, steamed for lunch or chopped for dinner.

I would sit on the sack of potatoes, with my teddy bear and watch my grandmother cook. As a toddler, I would sit there for hours until discovered by my uncle Felipito (the eldest) who would yell for me to get out of the kitchen. I would go back to my sacred secret spot once he went outside to help my grandpa work on cars.

As the years passed, I no longer sit on the sack of potatoes but still buy them by the sack....when they are on sale for $1/10 lb bag.

I thought about this story as I prepared to make a cauliflower and potato baked soup (oh the things I find on Pinterest).

It's a challenge to find health food articles that don't shun potatoes. I find plenty of recipes and articles on Runners World and other endurance nutrition sites but potatoes and their starch and carb components don't seem to bode well for those just trying to shed pounds (why doesn't anyone talk about how much Vitamin C a potato holds?). Although there are plenty of places that will try to tell me that potatoes are the devil...I have to remind myself that I am a runner and they indeed work for me. We're going to stay friends.

As for the potato/cauliflower baked puree/soup-well it's just fabulous and didn't need any butter! I got the recipe from SkinnyTaste.com and only substituted out a few ingredients. You know the trick to not overeating this amazing dish? To buy serving size dishes. The bowl I posted is 1 cup (yes I measured it). Eating slow also makes for a more satiated appetite.

Apparently it is a weight watchers recipe:

2 russet potatoes, washed and dried

1 small head of cauliflower, stem removed cut into florets

1 1/2 cups fat free chicken broth

1 1/2 cups 1% reduced-fat milk

salt and freshly cracked black pepper

1/2 cup light sour cream (I used coconut milk instead)

10 tbsp reduced-fat shredded sharp cheddar cheese (I mixed the cheeses-sharp cheddar, pepper jack and queso fresco)

6 tbsp chopped chives, divided

3 slices bacon, cooked and crumbled (you can use turkey bacon if you prefer)-I didn't use any bacon

Find out more at http://www.skinnytaste.com/2011/02/baked-potato-soup.html. Happy healthy eating!