March New Food: UTC Kebab Cafe

We were hoping to eat Afghan food for March, but the month closed before we were prepared. Instead of potentially delectable Afghan food, we ended up in the UTC food court looking at fairly Americanized Doner Kebab courtesy of Kebab Cafe. Technically, I've eaten Doner Kebab before. However, I was in Germany, a teenager, and a vegetarian. This Doner Kebab was nothing like what I remember. I remember a saucy, cabbagey goodness.  Don't get me wrong, this was good, but it was more like Greek Gyros in a slightly different bread. And, the cabbage was suspiciously missing. Oh, and there was the fact that this Doner had meat in it. That fact is how I justified Doner Kebab as a new food. The gyro flavored Doner made me doubt the validity of this month's new food. However, a scarcity of remaining days in March made me accept Jen's assertion that Doner counts. The final verdict: worth eating as long as you avoid the dirt-flavored hummus.

And.... we are having a hard time finding foods that I have not eaten. It turns out, I've been and adventurous eater for years now. We are revising the B.L.L. to include eating at new, local restaurants or eating a new food once a month.

Snowboarding: Snow Valley

Logan tossed a sippy cup of milk on the floor, it rolled under the seat, and was forgotten. Sealed tight, the milk could have been there for a month. Then, it rolled back out from under the seat, a sunny day built pressure inside of the cup, and KABAM--putrid milk explosion in the Jeep a few days before a planned three hour drive to the mountains. Scott swore to me the smell was out. He scrubbed, and scrubbed, and was confident the Jeep was safe. Here's the thing, though: I have a habit of sticking poor Matt into moldy smelling cars. Just Matt. Not sure why. So, when Matt climbed into putrid milk car, we should have known the smell was going to come back with a vengeance. Within five minutes, the smell attacked, and we drove from San Diego to Snow Valley with the windows down. Unfortunately, Jen, who needed the window open the most, was stuck on the side of the Jeep with the broken window. Somehow, we arrived at Snow Valley in one piece.

When we stepped out of the car, we were hit by a wall of heat. It was unusually warm and we quickly realized we would be snowboarding sans jackets. The snow was slushy, but my heel-side turns were looking nice right out of the gate. Then... in typical fashion, I forgot to get off of the lift. I just didn't stand up in time and when I realized I was about to ride back down the hill, I flung myself off the lift and onto the ground. Obviously, I was prepared to jump! Snow Valley has a great beginner area for practicing jumps, and we headed over to that side of the lower mountain. 

So.... when we wrote "land a jump on a snowboard" on the B.L.L. list, we didn't specify what constitutes landing a jump. That, my friends, is good news for me. After several attempts, I managed to throw myself into the air, getting a lot of height, but consistently "landing" my jumps on my back and sliding down the hill on my butt. Jen, on the other hand, managed this little beauty before we left for the day.

Scott's day ended early when another boarder took him out on the hill. The guy hit a jump without checking the bottom, saw another guy under the jump at the last minute, flung himself to the left to avoid the guy on the ground, and hit Scott squarely in the back of the knees. As if in slow motion, Scott crumpled backwards onto the snow. I've never seen a takedown quite like this one on the mountain. Scott, sporting black and blue legs, decided to hang in the Jeep for the rest of the day. That, unfortunately, seems to be a developing trend in our adventures.

After a while on the practice hill, I wanted to head up higher and work on linking my turns. I love that instructor in Minnesota because I am officially able to board well on both my heels and my toes, can now link my turns, and rarely fall unless I intend to. Snowboarding is so much easier when you can use both edges of the board. 

Oh, and on the way home I got stuck in the stinky seat. After nearly vomiting for three hours, you better believe I found a way to get rid of that smell as soon as we got home. 

Badasses Don't Carry Umbrellas... (Up Mt. Woodson)

[This entry was written in my journal, mid-class. The dates are now far from correct, but I am leaving the entry as it was originally written]

Jen and I are San Diego born and bred. I'm sure that when we travel we carry a scent, something that identifies us as belonging to this border city. When it rains for more than an hour, we get cabin fever. When it snows.... well, that doesn't happen often so it isn't worth exploring. Or, is it?

Winter came to town two weekends ago, and we panicked. Then, the weather forecasters predicted snow down to 1000 feet. We cheered. 1000 feet meant Cowles Mountain or Mt. Woodson could see snow flurries. My sister and I spent a while planning how we could trick mother nature and be on top of one of these peaks when this mythical snowfall happened. After a few ideas (anyone up for a midnight hike?) we gave up on that effort and went to sleep.

The next morning arrived, and with it came a rain fueled lake in my backyard. My sister's brilliance dawned with the slow-moving Saturday morning sun when she suggested we brave the elements (yes, a rainstorm counts as the elements when you are a San Diego native) and hike Mt. Woodson in the rain. Well, Mt. Woodson is paved. I'll give her that. I promptly called her an idiot, to which she retorted, "not idiots, badasses!" Notice, I insult her, she assumes I'm still coming along for the ride. Point taken dear sister, I'll hike that beast as long as we follow a few key rules:
1. Dress Appropriately
2. Don't Hug the Poles on Top of the Mountain (Lightening and the possibility of electrocution terrify me)
3. Don't climb on the Potato Chip/Leaf Rock in the Middle of 40 MPH Winds

Always a firm believer in writing things down to make sure I adhere to them, we jotted these rules down (permanent marker on plastic so they would survive the storm) and took off.

RULE 1: DRESS APPROPRIATELY

CHECK OUT THOSE SKI PANTS!

Immediately, Jen broke the first rule. She wore skiing pants. Notice the simple syntax of that sentence? In the middle of a blog full of overused commas splices and abundant modifiers, simple syntax draws attention to the statement itself. Notice how ludicrous that statement is? Jen wore skiing pants to hike up Mt. Woodson. In Ramona. Really, Jen? After mercilessly mocking her fashion choices, I promised to deem her "Queen of the Mountain" if those pants became appropriate.

Then, we saw these people. They were also breaking rule #1. Badasses most definitely do not carry umbrellas up Mt. Woodson. Badasses dance in the rain. Or, they wear ski pants. But umbrellas? No way!

I, however, was dressed appropriately. Once a Girl Scout, always prepared! I was dressed in layers. After a couple of minutes, the layers came off and the sun came out. We followed the paved road, meandering up and around the mountain. As we neared the top, we stumbled into mist. The mist soon gave way to rain, and our sweaters went back on.

A few minutes later, I watched a piece of hail bounce off my hand. Jen shrieked in pain as an angry hail ball attempted to impale her. I have this theory: San Diego rain is friendly. It might flood our streets and claim our cars on occasion, but the generally gentle plop of globes of water just makes me happy. Snow is the same way. Fluttering flurries drift downward. Drift is a gentle word. Fluttering makes me think of dancing. Snow, like rain, is friendly. Hail, on the other hand, is full of mal intent. It calculates its trajectory and aims to inflict the most harm possible. If its first victim is not damaged, it recalculates its trajectory until it finds an easy target. Jen was the easy target that day.

RULE #2: DO NOT HUG THE POLES ON TOP OF THE MOUNTAIN

My sister, ever the clever one, felt as if a hail storm was the perfect time to break the second rule. A couple of minutes after she made me worry about electrocution, our luck changed and the snow joined us. Fifteen minutes ago I was wearing a tank top. Now, I was layering on jackets to keep out the snow, yes, the snow. In RAMONA! We danced, we swore, and we broke our last rule...

RULE #3: DO NOT CLIMB ON THE POTATO CHIP/LEAF ROCK IN THE MIDDLE OF 40 MPH WINDS

Isn't that rock awesome? I may have cried before I climbed onto it, but eventually I made it there. Oh, and I had to call Jen "Queen of the Mountain" because those darned ski pants came in handy.

Wait, did you all process the fact that it snowed on us at the top of Mt. Woodson? Fifteen minutes after I was wearing a tanktop? That, my friends, is a once in a lifetime event.

JEN DANCING IN THE SNOW

Oh, and on the way back down we encountered more umbrellas. Their carriers mocked our bedraggled, damp clothes, saying "wouldn't an umbrella be handy?" We responded in unison: "Basasses don't carry umbrellas!"

Survival Mode

I have officially been in survival mode for the last few months. Student teaching started and blogging stopped. Oh wait, not just blogging, living, breathing, eating real food, seeing the sun.... yeah, that all stopped when student teaching started up again. Instead of breathing I've been gasping, little bubbles of life escaping as I drown in the experience of being terrible at something. Instead of living, I've barely been existing. So on, and so forth. Somehow, in the midst of this, I have attempted a jump on a snowboard, hiked in a freak San Diego snowstorm, tried a few new foods, and made some changes to the B.L.L. (hey, we've all got to evolve when life throws us curveballs, just because I've memorialized the B.L.L. in blog form does not mean it is set in stone!). Now that I am on Spring Break and I've officially bagged my final T.P.A., expect an update a day until Student Teaching resumes its vice like grip on my life on April 25th.

Check back tomorrow for the once-in-a-lifetime (unless global warming continues!) event of hiking Mt. Woodson in the snow.

Cowles Mountain via Golfcrest Drive

If you live in East County or anywhere near it, you and your ninety-year-old grandmother have probably hiked this one a dozen times. It doesn't warrant much of a post, but we did it, here are the photos, lets put this one to bed. Jen and I wanted a quick workout after work/school this week so we headed to Cowles Mountain. With sunset approaching and an icy arctic wind urging us on, we chose the short Golfcrest Drive trail. This one is fairly straight forward: straight up for 1.5 miles until you hit the highest point in the city of San Diego, straight down for 1.5 miles until you find your car. If you are like Jen and I, you discuss how to best drag in injured friend out of the ocean and tourniquet their bleeding legs with your own swimsuit. This, of course, will be necessary after a shark sees their bright yellow swim-cap and decides to eat their legs (thank you classmates and Mythbusters for my newfound fear of yellow swim-caps). If you are not like us, find your own topic of conversation!

THE FREEWAY YOU BARELY SEE: MY MORNING COMMUTE TO TAKE LOGAN TO DAYCARE

WORST PICTURE EVER

Interesting Addendum: 

The day we hiked this, the news projected snow down to 2000 feet this weekend. We were joking about snow in Alpine, and the supposition that snow on Cowles Mountain would represent the appocalypse followed. Yesterday, Jen sent me an article that suggested the top of Cowles Mountain might get snow today. If it does, I'll be there. 

Lawson Peak: Hiking Fail #1

          During my adolescence, Sunday hikes were an institution. We trekked this whole county over. Hiking wasn’t just a weekend affair, though. My mom once woke my sister and I up early enough to climb a mountain and watch the sunrise, scuttle back down it, and make it to class on time. (If you taught my first period that day, I probably slept. Sorry!) Even with all of that hiking under our belts, Jen and I don’t think we have hiked in this area. The novelty of finding a new hike lent some excitement to this expedition. Unfortunately, the excitement didn’t last long.

Dear Mr. Schad, You are Starting to Irritate me…

            Schad describes the hike as difficult for four-wheel drive vehicles but relatively easy for hikers. By which, he must mean that your 4x4 might flip over, or, like the guys we encountered, you might break an axle. If, however, you are on foot, you probably won’t break anything. If what Schad meant was you have a better chance of surviving the walk than the drive, then yes, I agree. That, however, does not classify this as a “relatively easy” endeavor to me.

The Short of It…

·      The hike is less that 5 miles, but took us just over 5 hours to complete (with Logan in tow).

·       After class on Monday, more than twenty-four hours after finishing the hike, I spent twelve hours sleeping off my hiking hangover. Carrying a toddler up this path meant compressed shoulders, aching muscles, and a killer headache.

·      This hike is not at all appropriate for toddlers but older kids should enjoy the final ascent. If bribing your kid with the promise of bouldering and a cave will prompt them to climb, non-stop, for over two miles, bring them along. If not, leave them at home!

The Long of It…

            Lawson Peak is 4.5 roundtrip miles of an uphill battle. Yes, uphill both ways, in the snow, even if you are in Jamul. In 2.25 miles you gain 1600 feet in elevation. To put this in perspective:

Cowles Mountain: 1.5 miles to top, 950 foot elevation gain

Iron Mountain: 3.1 or 4.7 miles to the top, 1050 foot elevation gain

El Cap (San Diego): Roughly 5.5 miles in (depending on route) with an elevation gain of 2000 feet. However, this one is actually uphill both ways, so across 11 miles you gain 4000 feet!

Grand Canyon: Rim-to-rim total of nearly 21 miles, elevation gain of up to 5850 feet depending on which rim you start with.

            Apparently we were not prepared for this particular battle because four of us climbed up (including Logan), but only three came down (including Logan). Scott, for his own reasons, decided to turn back around ½ mile in. The poor guy sat in the car for the next four hours. His descent left Jen and I to carry Logan (not something my shoulders recommend) up what was remaining of the 1600 feet elevation gain. In the end, we made it to within ¼ mile of the summit and turned back. The final ascent is through brush and over some awesome looking boulders. Though it looked invigorating, lugging the forty-pound bag of flour my reticent toddler had become up this last ¼ mile seemed ill advised. Supposedly, a boulder cave requiring some strength and a flashlight to make it through crowns Lawson Peak. Jen and I look forward to bagging this peak, boulder cave and all, on our next attempt.

Stay tuned for Lawson Peak: Hiking Win #1, to follow ASAP

February’s Food: Ashoka the Great Indian Food

          Saturday, Jen and I picked up our friend and swimming partner, Amelia, from the airport. She graciously brought us out to eat at Ashoka the Great. Never a pair to pass up an opportunity to cross something off our list, we indulged in a couple of new foods. Amelia and our lovely server decided what we were eating as Jen and I listened intently. Would there be something new on that list? Why, yes, yes there would be! We ended up with a Chicken Tikka Masala (not new), Naan (not new but delicious none-the-less), Basmati Rice (alas, another familiar item!), Aloo Gobi (something new, score!), and Raita (also new!).

            The fare was surprisingly familiar. Does it count as new if we already indulge in curries at least twice a month? I’m not sure, but I’ve definitely never had the Aloo Gobi version of curry; it was a delectable dish of cauliflower, potatoes, and spices! Amelia was worried that Jen and I would be over-spiced, so she ordered everything mild-to-medium. I could have spoken up and told her that I eat everything super-spicy. In fact, I prefer my food to make me cry, force me to jump on one foot while screaming, and to turn my ears into pressurized cannons bursting forth with steam. Alas, I didn’t, and the food was almost, barely, a tiny bit spicy.

            Even without spice, it was flavorful and distinct from the coconutty Thai curries that I am accustomed to. If I had to compare, I’d say that the Thai curries have a sweeter taste and that the Indian curries lean towards a richer flavor. I’m not sure what could make potatoes and cauliflower taste as rich as they did, and it might just be the particular blend of spices, but I think they might have been cooked in chicken broth. That would be bad news for our vegetarian dining partner, so I didn’t voice my suspicion. She was already eating it and what good would the suspicions of my undiscerning palate do her at that point? The menu did list the dish as vegetarian…I’m guessing their chefs know better than my tongue. In fact, recalling the fact that I’ve likely killed most of my taste buds through various ear-steam-spouting adventures in Thai restaurants, I now retract my suspicions about chicken broth. My heat damaged taste buds wouldn’t know chicken broth if they were bathed in a stockpot.

            The raita, a yogurt dish that reminds me of the sauce I use in my cucumber salad, would have been awesome if our food was super-spicy. In fact, I loved the yogurt anyways, and fully intend on returning to the restaurant to order a hot dish and drown my tears with yogurt sauce. Perhaps Matt will be kind enough to photo-document that adventure for us. He does, after all, take the best pictures of me making ridiculous faces.

            In the end, February’s food adventure would have been better than January’s regardless of the food because the company was good and it was an odd opportunity to hang out with Amelia when she was both giddy from her ski trip, and not in a bathing suit! Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Jen and I both still gag and shout expletives uncontrollably whenever someone mentions fish tacos. Yeah, this had to be better. I really hope this adventure doesn’t get any worse than January. Ok, so, February didn’t have to work very hard to top January, but the three of us still ate every morsel that was on the table. I count aloo gobi and raita as a success. 

Oak Oasis Loop: Choose Your Own Adventure!

         This hike is a bit like a choose-your-own-adventure story. Do you choose to go right and begin with a lush meadow, get shocked by a dry chaparral tunnel, and, generally, stick to steep declines and long, slow inclines? Or, do you choose to go left and follow the stream until you suddenly end up in dry territory? Do you follow this left path through steep uphill climbs that culminate in a hot, enclosed trail thick with the syrupy smell of chaparral only to suddenly be plunged into the shocking greenness of a miniature Ireland? I did both! In the spirit of full disclosure, I started out on the left trail and was treating it as a trail run. Running, of course, is always harder than walking. This might have colored my opinion of the hills.  However, I was so struck by how different this loop could be if I had started out heading right instead, that I walked it in the other direction after finishing my run. Ok, again, in the spirit of full disclosure, I didn’t bring my camera on my run and wanted to return to take pictures. But, my decision to walk it in reverse was founded wholly on my opinion that one loop could yield two very different hikes depending on which direction you start.

ADJACENT TO THE PARKING AREA, A PICNIC TABLE AND WELL-MARKED TRAIL HEAD

I WAS AMUSED BY THE "GEOCACHING PROHIBITED" SIGN

            If I was hiking this trail with Logan, I would likely choose to head right first. On my own, however, the left path felt more rewarding. Like I said, choose your own adventure. What are you up for? What is your goal? These questions always go into choosing an activity. Why should a loop hike be any different? The first section of this hike descends from the parking lot through chaparral so dense that it seems as if someone came through with a chainsaw to cut the trail.

Just as I was getting comfortable with the thick walls surrounding me, I turned a corner and spotted a hill too rocky and loose to safely run down. Ok, Ok, I didn’t know that it was too loose to safely run down on sight alone. Yeah, I tried, I nearly slipped, and then I slowed and carefully picked my way down the remainder of this slope. I know a few of you are reading this for ideas on where to hike with kids (hey, keep sending those emails, texts, and facebook messages that tell me why you are reading this). This hike is appropriate for kids, but, only if you are prepared to carry tired legs back up this slope on your way out.

WHY CAN YOU NEVER CAPTURE THE STEEPNESS OF A HILL IN A PICTURE?

 It is also appropriate for a mildly challenging trail run. If you count a mile of hills as mildly challenging, that is. 

            After descending this initial slope and working your way down into the Oaks that the preserve is named for, you have to choose which way to head.

THE TRAIL TO THE RIGHT IS ACROSS THE CREEK, THE GRASSY TRAIL IS THE ONE TO THE LEFT

 This description will assume you head left (west), but as I said before, hikers with children might want to head right (north-east). [OH, hey, those directions I include are based on my internal compass and should not, under any circumstances, be relied on. I did, after all, get us lost in the desert at night recently.] So, heading left, you snake alongside a creek (assuming it isn’t dried up), in the shade of fire-scarred oaks.

 At several points, the trail dissolved into creek bed and I was forced to hop on rocks while running, or, worse, resort to the new trails cut to the side of the water by hikers trying to avoid wet shoes. This, my friends, is a perfect example of what not to do. A little lesson on trail etiquette: Protect your trails, protect wildlife, protect yourself-stay on existing trails and do not cut new ones!

 On this particular February day, it was obvious, based on scat and prints, that I could come face to face with horses or coyotes. I also saw several smaller animals that rustled away into the underbrush as I approached.  Also, it was impossible not to picture the tan-white bellies of frogs expanding as they croaked out their serenade to me. Then, almost instantly, I emerged from the Oak Oasis into chaparral heat. Jerry Schaad claims that near this area there should be a “sagging” log house. I ran the trail once, and then walked it, and still never found that cabin. Maybe it has been removed since then, or maybe I wasn’t paying enough attention. I did, however, find this small waterfall as the creek diverged from the path (Yay! No more wet shoes!).

 As you switch from shady oaks to unshaded chaparral, the trail turns right to skirt the hill it loops around.  Here, the up and down switchbacks that are so common in the area begin. I might not have found that house earlier, I did find remnants of a paved road and a rusty bed frame. Those discoveries will probably prompt a google search into the history of the area, but they haven't yet.

To the left, there is a short side-trip to an outlook point with a great view of El Capitan Reservoir.

The hills continue through more tunnel-like chaparral until you come across this lovely halfway point sign.

I love trails that submerge you in wilderness and separate you from society, but there is a time and a place for a well-marked trail that keeps you on track and reminds you of the distance you have traveled. After running up those hills, I was pleased to see that sign!

            Shortly after the halfway point, the trail heads to the right. As you loop back around the hill, the chaparral suddenly ends and a stunning meadow awaits you. I was compelled to lay in the grass here, but my own aversion to mud and my stubborn need to finish this run without stopping kept me moving and away from that lush, soft, carpet of emerald. This stretch of the hike plunges you back into the serenading frogs and the feel of a Disney movie. In February, this place is pretty idyllic. Soon, the path dissolves into muck again. This time, instead of a moving stream, you are confronted with marshy terrain and mud holes hidden under seemingly safe footsteps.

THIS IS THE TRAIL...HAVE FUN TRYING TO STAY DRY AND CLEAN

 In addition to cartoon frogs and muddy surprises, this stretch of hike also offers fascinating boulder outcroppings for your little intrepid explorer (or you) to climb. A word of caution: even in February, I noticed poison oak in other areas of this hike. Keep your eyes open for the fiendish plant, lest you come down with exploding skin syndrome.

I WANTED TO CLIMB THESE, SO I'M SURE KIDDOS WOULD TOO!

Not long after entering the marsh territory, the place where the loop diverges becomes evident. Here, you climb back up the hill to the parking lot, and, if you are game, do it all over again in reverse! This is a short hike, between 2.5 and 3.5 miles depending on short side trips, and another idea is to couple it with the hikes in nearby Stelzer Canyon Park. Or, for the brave of heart, this area also boasts a link to the 110-mile Trans County Trail. Is anyone else sensing a challenge for 2012?

Another hike bites the dust...

Mission Trails Visitor's Center Loop

The facts:
Distance: 2 miles
Location: Mission Trails
The details:
I don't have much to say about this one. It is mainly flat, though it coincides, near the end, with the death hill from the Panera Run. It starts out by the visitor's center (hmm, shocker there) and ends up by it too (oh, is that what a loop is?). Logan liked it, though he likes every opportunity to climb trees, jump off rocks, and chase Kali. Oh, fyi, he tried to pee on every rock he could find, so you might want to wait to sit on any rock near this trail until after the next rain. There really isn't much of interest on this hike, and it is far too easy to consider a workout. All in all, ok for kids, but we probably won't be repeating it because there are so many better hikes in the area.
The pictures: 

BOY, THIS TAKES CONCENTRATION!

AUNTIE SHOWING OFF THE END-RESULT

JEN PRANCING LIKE A GAZELLE

Bam! 1/144th Done!

Yeah, ok, you are reading it here first. Shocker, Jen and I, San Diego natives, have never eaten the quintessential San Diego Food: Rubio’s World Famous Fish Tacos. What can I say? We don’t eat fish. And, it seems, fish is an integral part of these fish tacos. Fish tacos seemed like the obvious choice for this challenge because it is a food that will actually be challenging for Jen and I. And, as I mentioned, people in San Diego look at you like you are crazy if you tell them you have never eaten a fish taco.

            I don’t have a lot to say about the experience because our texts preceding and following the experience, combined with the photos Matt was kind enough to take, tell the story better than I ever could.

Scott to Jen: Chris said to remind you that you have a date for Rubio’s fish tacos tomorrow.

Jen to Scott: Ugh. Tell her ok.

Me to Jen: When are we planning on this vomit fest?

NOTICE ALL OF THE LIME, WE PREPPED WELL. IT FUNCTIONED TO DROWN OUT THE TASTE AND WASH THE FISH SMELL OFF OUR HANDS

IT IS NEVER PROMISING IF THAT IS YOUR FIRST REACTION

BEFORE THE FIRST TASTE: I THINK MAYBE JEN WAS A LITTLE MORE PREJUDICED THAN ME

DON'T TAKE MY PICTURE, I MIGHT THROW UP!

SPITTING OUT THE THIRD BITE, SUDDENLY NOT SURE IF THERE WAS FISH IN THE FIRST TWO BITES

Jen to Facebook: It is official, I still hate fish.

I WISH I COULD SAY THIS FACE WAS POSED, BUT MATT JUST CAUGHT ME TRYING NOT TO SPIT IT OUT OR THROW UP

The verdict:

There was some sort of sauce that I hated. Combine the unpleasant richness of that sauce with the fried fishy fishness of battered fish, and my stomach twisted and turned, leaped and flipped more than a cheerleader on a trampoline. Jen didn’t give me such a detailed description, but several hours later she did inform me, via text, that she still felt like throwing up. Oh, right, and there was that part where she spit the taco out into her napkin. We each took three bites, and gave up. I might have been able to choke the whole thing down, but what is the point of eating calories you don’t enjoy? They’ll just make that whole running a half marathon challenge more difficult.

The reward:

For surviving 1/144^th (by my shaky math skills) of the B.L.L., we rewarded ourselves with cupcakes from Sprinkles in La Jolla. Matt did not eat the fish taco, so I’m not sure why he got a cupcake, but he did nonetheless. I wasn’t thrilled by my cupcake, but it almost managed to get rid of the fish taco taste so it was my favorite food of the outing.

Closure:

I’ll leave you an exchange of texts that sums up the experience.

Jen to Me: You can come eat dinner with us if you want.

Me to Jen: Thanks, but I really need to get home to brush my teeth.