When I remember how I was thinking that life would slow down to a more manageable pace once I graduate, all I can do is laugh. Because that is so not the case. If anything, my schedule is about to get even crazier!
As is often the case, I am going to break up text with random, mostly unrelated photos. So I will now share that I haven’t had fresh strawberries in several years. (Um, excluding the raspberry-sized strawberry I got out of my garden last year before the plants were destroyed by the stray cats.) They aren’t my absolute favorite berry, but I was excited that I could have them again!
There actually is something under all those berries. 😉 I made French toast out of some of the leftover challah, but I made it the night before I ate it, because I wouldn’t have had time to do it in the morning. I dipped the challah into a mixture of egg white, almond milk, Truvia, and vanilla extract, cooked them in a skillet, and then warmed the slices in the microwave the next morning. This definitely would have been better straight off the stove, but it wasn’t bad. Unfortunately, my mom threw out all of the leftover challah — even the slices I told her I was going to use for French toast. Oh, well!
Let’s see… I took my bike out for a spin on Monday morning to play around with the gears. Apparently, they do make a difference, because I covered the same distance as I did last week, but in a shorter amount of time.
Then, on Tuesday morning, I went on a group ride (which was just the coach, me, and one other person… nice). I’d only played around with the rear gears, and he wanted us to get comfortable with switching the front gears too. I know I haven’t had a bike in a long time, but the gears are definitely not supposed to make a grinding noise like that! So now I have to go back to the shop where I bought the bike to have the gears adjusted. It is a seven-mile ride from my house!! But I’m told we rode ten miles together on Tuesday, and getting to the park and back home was about another three, so I guess I can make it to the shop. I’m just pretty damn slow, is all, especially with traffic around.
It was better than the peanut butter variety, and it is better than it used to be. Still, not something I’d go out of my way to get.
I’m having to get a lot of things lately, though. After all this, there is no way I’m not going to do another triathlon — I’m investing so much money in it, I need to do more than one!
One of the items I need, as per the directive of my PT / tri coach, is a RoadID. Being as indecisive as I am, it was nearly impossible to decide which one to get… I was going to get the dog tags with a scuba flag, but then I asked two of my brothers (one a paramedic, one an EMT) where they’d be inclined to look first for a medical alert tag, and they said the wrist, so I guess I’ll save myself a few dollars and get the slim bracelet instead. And here the loveliness begins.
My mom thinks I ought to list my eating disorder on there. I disagree. It’s not like I have a heart condition, or diabetes, or something… it’s irrelevant. And besides, this is a bracelet that anyone can see — I’m not interested in advertising that about myself, thanks very much. So she told me to ask my PT what he thinks.
I didn’t like that idea much, either. I’d rather not have him know me as “the girl with the eating disorder”! Though, according to my mom, “He already knows because he just had to take a look at you” … which begs the question, if that’s the case, why on earth would he suggest I do a triathlon?!
Anyway, I mentioned this to my therapist yesterday. She agreed with me that it’s irrelevant in terms of listing it on the ID, but she still thinks I should tell my PT about it. Which I don’t want to do. It’s not like he’s just a medical practitioner I never see otherwise — he lives in my neighborhood, he’s friends with a couple of my brothers, and it would just be way awkward. Speaking of my brothers, my mom and I asked the paramedic one whether it makes any sense to put an eating disorder on a medical alert bracelet. He looked very confused. Clearly, I was right.
Brief interlude to say that I am glad that I had a tube of polenta that needed to be used, because I created something that was pretty wonderful. It looked prettier before I plated it, but them’s the breaks…
I’m calling it a “polenta tamale pie”! Based off a recipe I printed out from some website ages ago: I layered polenta slices, a mixture of Mexican ground “beef,” peppers / onions, and tequila lime salsa, cheddar Daiya, more polenta slices, and more Daiya… sprinkled with fiesta lime seasoning.
Some of the polenta turned into “croutons.”
Romaine, polenta, a lonely Persian cucumber I rescued from the depths of the vegetable bin, chickpeas. I still have half a tube of polenta left… any ideas?
Back to the verbal vomiting. Like I said, I saw my therapist yesterday. I think she was a little disconcerted because I was so freaking happy. I go one of two ways when sleep deprived: catatonia or hyperactivity. Yesterday, I happened to be hyper. For all of her complaining that I have to be happy, you’d think she wouldn’t take such issue with this. Anyway, seems like she wants to rain on my parade. Hmph.
Another brief interlude… I tried that lava cake with almond flour again.
It never really set. It was good, and all, but the peanut flour version is still worlds better.
I went swimming last night, and I actually paid attention to my distance. I think I covered about half a mile. And slowly, though I couldn’t say for sure how slowly, since the clock on the wall read 7.05 when I got into the pool, which is impossible since I didn’t leave my house until 7.15. I don’t know why they can’t just buy a new clock!
Since today was my last day of class ever, it required frozen yogurt. Even though it was a cold, nasty, rainy day, and I was way under-dressed.
It wasn’t exactly my day from the start. It began last night — when I finally got a reply from my professor answering my email from a week ago in which I asked about the material on the final. Really? So nice of you to let me know this the night before the exam.
Then I spent a large part of the morning tearing my house apart, looking for the receipt from when I bought my bike so that I can get it serviced for free. I have no idea why I can’t find it. I always keep my credit card receipts!
And then I spent an hour waiting for the gym to open. It never did. Figures that when they finally manage to hire someone who consistently opens on time, they switch her shift!! I suppose it’s a good sign that I wasn’t freaking out over the whole “I didn’t work out today” thing like I would have a few months ago, but still. It’s annoying.
I went to a bike shop to get a repair kit that I can attach to the saddle, but I’m sorry, I’m not paying that much money for a kit that doesn’t even have anything inside it! I’ll find it somewhere else. Next stop: the tri store for cycling shorts. Where I came to the conclusion that I might not even need cycling shorts; I can just get tri shorts and be done with it. But I’m going to check with my coach first. In the meantime, I bought this.
A bit pricey, but they actually fit.
Then I went to school for the last. time. ever. I’m officially not a student anymore, even though I probably bombed that final, but whatever. It is so very strange to not feel the onus of school on my head… and I guess I’ll need to update my “About Me” page!
On my way home — well, I made it be on the way home, even though it isn’t — I bought myself a treat. Because I haven’t been spending enough money, you know. *sarcasm*
If you’ve seen my dive photos on Facebook, you know that this is actually more of a necessity than a luxury. I love my old mask — it has a single window, not two, and I can get great peripheral views — but most masks that provide peripheral views are made for wider faces. I do not have a wide face. I was dumb when I bought that one, I didn’t know what I was doing, and now I need to strap it very tightly if I don’t want it to leak. Too-tight mask + pressure of being under 100 feet of water = major mask squeeze. The raccoon look that ensues aside, I oddly kind of prefer to keep my eyeballs inside their sockets.
And now I will shut up and go marvel over my student-less status while I attempt to sleep.
“Nostalgia is like a grammar lesson: you find the present tense, but the past perfect!”
~Owens Lee Pomeroy