Most Improved Skier

There are some days when early on, God is blatantly sending you the message that you should probably just quit and go back to bed. Day 1 of our ski trip to Breckenridge, Colorado was one of these days for me.

The first clue that Day 1 was going to be an epic failure was the fact that I could not get my ski boots on without feeling like I was ripping my ankle tendons to shreds. Now, I don’t have the most experience with ski equipment, and I know your ankles need to be securely fastened, but when my tiny petite ankles can’t fit into a boot one size up from my normal shoe size, that’s a little extreme. After recruiting my husband and friends to assist me, I was finally able to get the boots on, but wasn’t surprised to find major bruises on my ankles at the end of the day.

So with boots finally on my feet, we grabbed up our equipment and headed to the shuttle. I was the last in line as we loaded onto the bus and despite my bright pink ski jacket, the driver must not have seen me because as I stepped onto the bus, I felt the doors close around me and the bus lurch forward on the way to the ski lift. After a few seconds of me and my group yelling at the driver to stop, he finally did. After a few more seconds, he was even courteous enough to reopen the doors allowing me to actually move onto the bus.

I should have gotten off right then. I should have gone home, took my stupid boots off, and went back to bed. But because I love my husband and my husband loves skiing, I just silently cried as we rode that evil bus to the ski lift.

Now, if I couldn't manage to get onto a stopped bus with my ski equipment, I should have known better than to attempt getting onto a ski lift. You know how sometimes when you are riding on a ski lift, it just stops for a few minutes seemingly without reason? Let me solve that little mystery for you. This is why:

So as soon as I got my skis on, Jonathan gave me a quick and wildly inadequate refresher course on how to get onto a ski lift. Something about waiting for the chair to pass and then lining up at the yellow line and sitting down when the lift hits your legs. Before I’ve processed any of this information, he says ‘go’ and while he sprints forward, I move my skis and nothing happens. I finally manage to move about 6 inches while he is 4 feet ahead at the proper loading area.

So the ski chair hits my butt and I instinctively sit down and hold on the side for dear life while people are screaming at me to move to the left. Instead, I’m dead center on the chair and hit Jonathan with my skis. He then falls on top of me and they have to stop the ski lift to untangle our skis from one another. I was so mortified. I think it goes without saying that I cried again at this point. However, I now feel sympathetic instead of annoyed whenever my ski lift stops.

At this point in the day, I know I’m done for. I’ve resolved immediately that as soon as I got off the ski lift, I would ski my little butt down the mountain and get back into bed. However, panic started to set in when our ski lift kept going and going, on and on for about 10 minutes. By the time we got off of it, 2 miles of ski slopes stood between me and my bed. I guess at that point my plan subconsciously evolved into hurting myself badly enough to warrant being snowmobiled off the mountain because I began repeatedly falling down this so-called “green” slope.

After my third tumble, I insisted I could not go on. I may have told Jonathan that I hated him. I may have insisted that he buy me a Michael Kors bag for Valentines’ day to make up for forcing me onto this mountain. I may have cried for the third time that morning. It wasn’t my proudest moment. Obviously, I should have still been in bed.

Somehow Jon convinced me to put my skis back on and I only fell one more time before reaching the base and my reward of sweet peppermint hot chocolate.

Now there is something powerful about being in a warm bar drinking hot chocolate after a traumatic experience such as mine. It makes you forget, much like the sweet smell of a baby’s head makes a mother forget the pain of childbirth. Yes, sipping hot cocoa in a warm a snuggly bar makes you agree to put your skis back on, get back on a ski lift, and try again.

Luckily at this point, I discovered the “magic carpet” ski lift (conveyor belt which carries you to the lift chair) which lead up to a nice and wide green slope perfect for novices such as myself and several other beginners between the ages of 3 and 8. The kids were very gracious to share their turf with me and I was much more relaxed for the remainder of the day.

Well until I fell and twisted my wrist. And then fell and twisted my wrist again. And then when my twisted wrist disallowed me to put any weight on my arm to put my skis back on, I had to walk down the mountain in my ankle crushing ski boots. So finally, at that point, I did what I should have done hours before- took a gondola home and went back to bed.

Day two of skiing was much more successful. First off, the couple that we went skiing with, Bianca and Paul, had all this fancy ski equipment such as boot warmers. They let me borrow these for my stiff ski boots and it was amazing how much easier my boots were to get on once the heat made them more pliable.

Secondly, I started my morning off right with a round of Tylenol. Then I successfully got onto the shuttle bus without getting trapped in the door. When we got to the ski lift Bianca gave me way better advice than Jonathan when she told me to just tell the operator that I was a beginner. When I did this, he actually pushed me forward and his partner reached out and stopped me right where I needed to wait for the chair. It was even more effortless than the magic carpet. I did however ride solo because Jonathan wasn’t willing to risk being assaulted by my skis again.

While riding the lift up, I spotted a short cut to my kid-friendly slope and easily skied down the mountain without a single fall. In fact, I continued my no falling trend all morning.

The only fall of Day 2 came when Jonathan convinced to get on a big kid ski lift. Getting on was simple enough, but I guess over the past two days I got used to my slow motion kid lift because I didn’t get out of the way in time when exiting and got smacked in the back of the head by the chair. I was humiliated, but managed to get out of the way before anyone exited on top of me. At this point, we took “The Four O-clock” run which leads all the way into town, dropping us right off at our condo.

Jonathan skied me home (what a gentleman!) and caught the shuttle back to hit some blacks before the lifts closed for the day. I spent the next two hours finishing The Girls From Ames in the comfort of my pajama pants. So to recap: Fall count on day one: 7; Fall count of day 2: 1. I definitely wasn’t the most skilled skier on the mountain, but I just might win the award for most improved.

Dreaming Tree

It's been a rough couple of days. So rough that it's made me break my 'no wine during the week unless I'm watching ‘The Bachelor' rule. Last night, we popped open this bad boy. Since I know so little about wine, I definitely judge a wine by its bottle. I was originally captivated by the name of the wine, The Dreaming Tree, which happens to be one of my favorite Dave Matthews Band songs. I later discovered that Dave himself collaborated with a California wine maker, Steve Reeder, to create this line of reasonably priced wines (about $12 at Kroger). Currently they distribute three wines: a California red blend, a Chardonnay and a Cabernet.

I’ve only tried the red blend, named Crush, after another famous Dave Matthews song. Red table wine is one of my favorite forms of therapy and this blend is simple, sweet and smooth.

Of course, as a longtime fan, I also love the references to Matthews’music. In fact, the opening lyrics to The Dreaming Tree are even inscribed on the cork. As a cork collector, this will be a favorite for sure. "Standing here, the old man said to me, long before these crowded streets, here stood the Dreaming Tree:- Dave Matthews Band

Travel Traditions

One of my favorite things about traveling is when I get a recommendation from a friend or family member on something to see or somewhere to eat. Of course its fun to strike out on your own and discover things for yourself, but it’s also the neatest feeling to travel in someone else’s footsteps and continue a tradition in a foreign place.

For instance, two of my best friends studied in Paris one summer as part of a study-abroad program. While they were there, they fell in love with a restaurant called The Grizzli Café, especially charmed by its chocolate cake. When my parents and I visited Paris the next winter, my friends insisted that we eat there, so along with the Mona Lisa and Versailles gardens, the Grizzli Café and it's famous chocolate cake was added to our must see list.

Of course, we loved it, and when my parents visited France the next summer with friends, they returned to the cafe. Another friend of mine visited Paris this summer and posted Facebook pictures of herself outside the restaurant, 7 years after our other friends made the original discovery. I love that two college girls stumbling into a Parisian restaurant have created a tradition among so many.

Another example is Tommy Toys, a fancy Chinese restaurant in San Francisco. My parents found the eatery on a trip 11 years ago and have raved about it ever since. I mentioned previously that my brother and his wife took a trip to San Fran 2 weeks before Jonathan and me. Both of us knew that reservations to Tommy Toys would be included on our respective itineraries. Even though none of us were blown away by the food (apparently Tommy died a few years back and the restaurant has since changed management) it was still sentimental to get to share a travel experience with my parents even without them being there.

On a side note: If you are in San Fran, I do encourage you to visit Tommy Toys. You have to understand that my parents have seriously raved about this place for 11 years so our expectations were set unreachably high. Also, in general, I’m not a huge fan of Chinese food. The food was still above average, and the atmosphere and service were superb. There were a ton of locals eating there and I overheard more than 1 conversation where patrons remarked that it was their favorite San Francisco restaurant. It’s a unique experience with elaborate 7 course meals. You should definitely at least try it, even if you don’t go back.

Perhaps my favorite example of passing along travel traditions isn’t food related at all. While my parents lived in Scotland, they offered to fly each of my family members over for a visit. Since it was too hard to organize a time for everyone to go, we ended up taking 4 separate trips among us. My sister’s brood went first, followed by my grandparents and Aunt. Then it was time for me and Jonathan’s trip and lastly, my brother and his wife got to visit. Our itineraries all differed slightly so that our tour guides (my parents) didn’t get stuck seeing all the same attractions over and over. But there was one place that we all wanted to see, and it was all inspired by this photo of my nephew at Loch Ness.

We all made the trek to Inverness to take a picture with Nessie and stick our toes in the legendary (and freezing) lake. Even though we all experienced it separately, it’s still a fond memory that we share as a family. When your family is so spread out, it’s nice to be able to bond over common experiences, even if you don’t get to experience them at the same time.

Travel Tip: Luxury Link

(Our Home in the Amazon)
Jonathan and I are travelers torn between two worlds. We love authentic (aka inexpensive) travel but we also have an appreciation for the finer things in life. We were very blessed to stumble upon Luxury Link before booking our honeymoon in 2008. Luxury Link offers deals on upscale accommodations for a fraction of the price. It’s set up in an e-bay format, auctioning off travel deals.

We were apprehensive when booking our trip to Peru through the website, but were pleasantly surprised by the first class treatment and accommodations we received on our trip. Booking through Luxury Link basically takes the travel agent out of the equation.

Since our Peruvian trip was a package deal through InkaTerra, it included 4 different boutique hotels in 4 different areas, and also included the transfers between each destination. Traveling cross-country in Peru is a complicated feat involving planes, vans, trains and canoes. I can’t imagine that Jonathan and I would have been able to get from point A to Point B without InkaTerra’s assistance. Plus, nothing says honeymoon like a driver holding a sign with your shared last name when you arrive at the airport/train station/ boat dock. (The Amazon Express)

We’ve since spread the word to many of our friends regarding the excellent deals and everything has always worked out smoothly. The other great thing about Luxury Link is the travel inspiration it provides. You can search deals by destination, price, or activity. My favorite is just to search “deals ending soon” to get a random assortment of travel ideas. In fact, that’s how we actually decided on Peru for our honeymoon. We were searching the sight for Italian options and instead got enticed with a great deal for Peru. The rest (including a substantial hospital bill not included in the price of the package) is honeymoon history. Jonathan inside our Amazonian 'hut' at the InkaTerra Reserva Amazonica. Our individual Casita in Peru's Sacred Valley which came with a personal maid/cook.
Inside our Sacred Valley Casita. Yep, it was two stories.
And of course, the crown jewel of our Peruvian voyage, our pueblo at the InkaTerra Machu Picchu.

Quinoa Stuffed Bell-peppers

I am a moderately healthy person. I exercise daily, make mostly nutritious decisions, drink enough water, and stay a healthy weight. But I am in no means a health nut. I enjoy my afternoon diet soda and eat way too much candy.

Lately I’ve been thinking about the psychology of eating, and how the eating habits we develop in childhood really impact the rest of our lives. Jonathan and I grew up in the deep south (aka highest obesity rates in the country), and worse, he grew up in a house with 4 boys and 1 man. Meat with a side of starch are the cornerstones of all of his favorite childhood meals.

My problem was that I was always underweight and a super picky eater therefore my parents were always encouraging me to eat high calorie foods, especially carbs since I was an avid athlete. They praised me when I asked for second helpings and let me eat essentially whatever I wanted. This mainly consisted of mac and cheese, cheese pizza, spaghettios, and fish sticks. When I went to college, my palate diversified and my appetite surged. Unfortunately this change incidentally coincided with the end of my soccer career.
I didn’t quite put on the “freshman fifteen” but I had to learn to adapt. My solution was running. I figured if I ran 7 miles a day, I wouldn’t have to change my eating habits. That was true, until recently. I still exercise every day, but with a full time job and weird hours, sometimes I just don’t have the time or energy for a good workout. It’s much easier and time efficient to cut some calories rather than add some cardio.
I’ll never be a vegetarian, much less a vegan, but I do strive to cut meat out as the focal point to every meal and to go meatless a few days a week. It’s harder than it seems to get away from a habit so ingrained, especially when every recipe in your repertoire includes a huge serving of meat. Even my vegetable soup has 2 lbs of stew meat in the recipe.
Recently, my sister (who is an actual health nut) introduced me to quinoa.
Quinoa is a grain-like seed similar to couscous. It’s an excellent source of protein and fiber, and a tasty meat substitute. Last weekend I made quinoa stuffed peppers and it was so deliciously guilt free and filling! Quinoa is also very versatile. I’ve found recipes for quinoa oatmeal , quinoa salads, and quinoa burgers. I try to eat protein but as a runner, I never feel like it fills me up and I’m always craving carbs instead. Quinoa is different and super filling. One stuffed bell-pepper for dinner (which is only about 250 calories) keeps me full until bedtime which allows me to skip my usually pre-bedtime snack (see, totally unhealthy habits!) Here is the recipe I used adapted from this blog , though you can definitely customize the ingredients to your tastes. For instance, my sister adds pesto sauce instead of cheese to the top of her bell-peppers, probably because she’s a total health nut.
Quinoa Stuffed Bell-peppers

Ingredients:
1 medium onion, chopped,
2TB of olive oil
½ cup of chopped celery
1 ½ cups of shredded carrots (about 3 carrots will do it; unless your husband does the grocery shopping, and then it takes about 20 baby carrots)
1 TB ground cumin
2 tsp minced garlic
1 10 oz package of frozen spinach thawed and squeezed dry
1 15 oz can of diced tomatoes- drain, but reserve liquid separately
1 15 oz can of black beans, drained
1 ½ cups of shredded pepper jack cheese
¾ cups Quinoa
4 bell peppers- I like to get one of each color

Directions:
1. Start off my sautéing onions and celery in oil for about 5 minutes. Add in cumin and garlic and heat for one minute before adding drained tomatoes and spinach. Cook this mixture for 5 minutes until all the liquid has drained.
2. Stir in carrots, black beans, and uncooked quinoa. Add 2 cups of water to mixture, cover and bring to a boil. Once it reaches a boil, reduce heat and let simmer for 20 minutes, or until quinoa is tender. At this point, mix in 1 cup of pepper jack cheese.
3. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Cut your bell-peppers in half from top-to-bottom (lengthways) and de-seed and de-rib them. Pour your tomato juice in the bottom of a large baking pan (I used my lasagna pan). Stuff bell-peppers with quinoa and veggie mixture. Cover baking pan with foil and cook for one hour.
4. Top each bell-pepper with a sprinkle of cheese and cook for 15 more minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes before eating. Trust me on this one.

Total prep + cook time is about 2 hours for this. However, the long baking time allows for kitchen clean up in the meantime. And this recipe makes about 8-10 servings and it’s really good for freezing. I’d recommend even doubling the recipe and freezing ¾ of it. Once you have the mixture, its super easy to just buy some bell-peppers, thaw out a few servings and pop it in the oven for an hour and 15 minutes. Voila, healthy vegetarian dinner.

And if you’ve been living under the same health –food ignoramus rock that I have, here is some additional information on cooking quinoa.
(Breakfast Quinoa)

A little inspiration

Recently I was inspired by this blogpost by Chris Gillbeau on how to write 300,000 words a year. Chris is a go-to read for quick inspiration whether it’s in regards to travel, writing, or challenging societal norms. In this particular post, he mostly he encourages his readers to be self-disciplined enough to write 1000 words a day, six days a week.

It made me feel validated for starting a blog as a means to practice writing. Even if it’s terrible and nobody reads it, it is productive as part of a larger goal. So I’ve decided that in addition to my goal of reading two books a month, I will also write 5,000 words a week. Some of my best writing came when I was forced to write due to a deadline or class assignment.

From now on, I will hold myself to the same level of accountability and challenge myself to write more every day. Seriously, if I can make time to watch How I met Your Mother, I can surely carve out 30 minutes to keep my writing muscles toned. And it really is achievable. In this post alone, I’ve contributed 205 more words to my weekly total. Baby steps.

Running= Cure for Introversion

Million Dollar (ok, maybe more like 3 million-dollar) view of the island of Molokai from the lanai of our rental house:

My favorite thing about Maui was jogging while I was there. The mornings were usually a dewy 65 degrees, the sunrise views were unspeakably beautiful, and the steep hills kept my heart rate at about 160 the entire time (which allowed for guilt free participation in my second, third, and fourth favorite things about Maui- Hawaiian Pizza, Shaved Ice, and chocolate covered macadamia nuts).

The house we (ok, my parents) rented was on the grounds of the Ritz Carlton of Kapalua, so the rocky beaches, wide pedestrian sidewalks and manicured gardens of the resort were my running trail for the week we were there. Though in retrospect, our Hawaii trip seems pretty flawless, a house full of family (including two rambunctious nephews) + substantial jetlag at the time had the potential to make for a pretty grumpy Laine. My morning runs completely absolved me of any moodiness I was feeling beforehand.

I think my family would agree that my two crankiest days were the ones where we piled into a car at sunrise and didn’t make it home until sundown- leaving no endorphin inducing exercise for me. You see, I’m one of those people who loves to run to the point where it’s fair to label it an addiction. Combine running with travelling and I couldn’t be happier.

As a textbook introvert, jogging gives me that time I require for reflection and introspection to “work out my stuff”. In Hawaii, it allowed me to distance myself from whatever insignificant thing that was irritating me and refocus on the fact that I was in freaking Hawaii with my fabulous family and nothing, not even a snorkeling-induced panic attack was going to bring me down. As an introvert, being surrounded by socialization and stimulation all day long can be exhausting. While my extroverted friends and family feel energized by social interaction, I’m actually depleted by it.

This doesn’t mean that I don’t love to socialize, because I absolutely do. Quality time is even my number one love language. It’s just that I have to re-energize afterwards by spending time alone with my thoughts to “work out my stuff”. Running on family vacations has made such a difference in my socializing stamina.

Now running isn’t merely a tool to process the negative parts of life, but it also give me time to practice gratitude. It’s pretty easy to express gratitude when jogging in Maui, but I often include praise music on my playlist so that even when I’m jogging next to a sewer drain in Houston, I’m reminded of God’s hand in my life. It can be a noisy and busy life sometimes, but I always seem to find a few hours a week to hit the pavement, so it’s good to multitask and use this as a time of prayer and praise.

My family enjoying their morning coffee as I prepare for my morning run. Oh Hawaii, I miss you terribly.