Climb Like a Girl: Mountain Biking at Spooner/Tahoe Rim Trail

It is perhaps the toughest thing I've done all summer yet, the most grueling mountain bike ride ever for sure.  As stubborn and unyielding as the rocks under my 29" tires (and there were countless of them), I always get chastised for not using my lowest gears.  "You're not yet on the lowest gear!", The Dutch would bellow as we would climb.  Yes, I am aware and it's done on purpose.  Part laziness (I'm still new at the sport and I still have to give shifting my left gears a conscious thought - ascending, push down, descending, push up), yes, but also partly because I dislike spinning my wheels, which is how I feel when I use the lowest gears.  I would rather feel the resistance under my feet, burning my legs, but at least I'm going somewhere.  But like I said, I have a tendency to be obstinate as a rock.

But this ride was different.  We went in cold, which means, devoid of any semblance of a warm up, we started a steep ascend on the mountain right away.  To me, that means a punishingly breathless, reprieve-less ascend, all the while pedaling, muscling through rocks, gravel, sand, tree roots.  The Dutch seems to manage just fine, perhaps because he's done this many, many times.  I think of myself a good climber considering, but this was just excruciating.  I had a heart monitor on and when my heart felt like it would burst (over 180+ for me), I have to stop and catch my breath for a minute until it went down to 150 again.  I would cycle through these high intervals for the next two miles and never for a second did I felt giving up and turning around was an option.

The total was eight miles long, 4.1 miles of which were straight climbing.  The first mile was at a 10% grade.  Meaning there was a 500 ft. elevation gain just on the first mile alone!

The views up top of Lake Tahoe were rewarding for sure, but honestly, there is no better reward than affirming to yourself that you are alive, healthy, and well, able to do these things.  I couldn't have been prouder of myself.  It takes a certain strength and stamina to pedal your way up and although it could have taken me quicker to climb, it was my first taste of a real climb, the kind that only boys do (and some boys cannot even attempt to do), and I am mighty proud of what I accomplished!  With all the starts and stops, the whole trip took 2 hours and a half and I burned 1,426 calories in the process.

We could have gone further, but after taking a break for a quick snack, I felt I've cooled down more than I wanted that I just didn't have it in me to keep climbing.  So we headed down and never before have I appreciated the laws of physics than that day.  What comes up must oh-so gloriously come down.  I have a Specialized 29er Myka, a mid-range women's hardtail mountain bike, and I LOVE that thing.  It bombed down that trail through gravel, rocks and roots, sometimes in loose soil, sometimes in narrow singletracks.

And in between yelps of "wahooo!!!" in exhilarating speed, I was extremely grateful that I have The Dutch to drag me to places and experiences considerably extreme in my standards.  There are some misses (namely, skiing), but mountain biking has been one huge hit.  After I've gotten to know my bike, tested it on a variety of trails of varying undulations, I have learned to trust what my hydraulic brakes can do.  My learning curve for this sport has been very short (and very sweet indeed) and I cannot even imagine what other adventures await on the saddle!

P.S.  The world is still a wonderful place despite all the conflict happening in many places in the world right now.  We ended the afternoon on the beach in South Lake Tahoe with a couple of friends.  Lady Gaga has an outdoor concert that evening and although I am not a fan in any sense at all, I appreciate real talent and hard work.  We were hanging out outside the Lady Gaga concert venue when a girl randomly approached us and asked if we wanted two tickets for free.  She had bought them and just couldn't go anymore.  We offered to pay her, but she didn't want any money.  She just gave us the tickets and left.

If you've seen a show at Harvey's Lake Tahoe, it is one of the most intimate venues I've watched a concert in.  The capacity is only 7,000 people and if a big name like Lady Gaga comes to perform, it is a must-watch since you can get really close to the action.  Like I said, I am not gaga about Gaga, but she put on a great performance.  Her talent is amazing and although the profanity is at times too much, she does balance it out with a strong and vocal stand on gender equality, beauty in art, and that elemental pursuit of dreams.  Artists have such an influence on their impressionable fan base and it was a welcome surprise to know that Lady Gaga (who I didn't know anything about prior) at least tries to put something positive out there outside of her pop craziness.

Faking Your Way through Unripe Peaches

One of the many wonderful tastes of summer is a plump, juicy, sweet peach.  Its season is in full unadulterated swing right now and you can buy them everywhere (or wait for the surplus from co-workers who have peach trees in their backyard).  I bought a bag of them from Whole Foods the other day and little impatient me, I sliced each single one up only realizing later that they were not quite ready yet.

Solution?  Bake 'em.

You just need a mixture of a little bit of honey, pure vanilla extract, olive oil, and some thyme.  I actually grow thyme in my garden and I must say it's my most unused herb so I was stoked to be putting it to delicious use.

Mix this concoction together and smear it all over the peaches, turning a couple of times to make sure the syrup goes everywhere.  I marinated them overnight in a covered baking pan and chucked them in the oven at 400 degrees for maybe 30 minutes (or until soft).

I tried grilling them, but my inexperience with a grill trumped my persistence.  So tonight, I thought I'd do a take two, but this time, by just chucking them in the oven, the cowardly way.

This was really simple and I'm very happy with how it turned out.  It's delish and it's the most perfect way to save my faux pas of cut unripe peaches.

You can eat them warm as is and they are gorgeous. I could not even tell they were not quite ripe as they were soft and plump.

You can also serve it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.

Tomorrow, I will eat it with unsweetened Greek yogurt for breakfast.  Something to look forward to on a Monday morning!

Walk on the Wild Side

I am running again after a six-month hiatus caused by a knee injury.  I never was a serious or competitive runner but I had a wave of relief knowing that I am not permanently damaged goods.  After all, ski season is just around the corner and I would hate to sit this one out.

While I was "under repair", my physical activity was limited to cycling and swimming.  Since I wasn't yet able to do the latter, and since it's no fun cycling uphill in near-100 degree weather, I took the risk of going against orthopedic's orders and hiked long distances, sometimes, with ascents not to be scoffed at.  I lucked out that I did not further damage my torn knee parts (exhibit A: paragraph 1 above) while exploring the many stretches of desolated peaks and valleys in the region.

My favorite one was a hike to the surreal and dreamlike Winnemucca Lake, through a raging burst of wildflowers in the Carson Pass Trail (sidenote: if you're one of those who've picked up Cheryl Strayed's book "Wild", the Carson Pass Trail intersects PCT).

It was a clear day in July.  The sunshine was ridiculous and the fresh mountain air was so crisp, it was almost audible.  I have never been on a hike like this one before.  I have never seen wildflowers, usually so dainty, pull off such a tour de force.  The montage of bright and vivid colors could really put any portrait to shame.  Simply put, it was wild.  It was so larger-than-life I suddenly understood why Julie Andrews did what she did when she pulled a flashmob in "The Sound of Music".  

Enough of my blabber.  I will let Mother Nature speak for itself in the pictures but realize that I don't do its beauty justice.  

What is the wildest thing you've done all summer?

Why Montreal is a Rockstar

Montreal and I have been making eyes for a while now.  When the opportunity to go presented itself, I latched on to it like an attacking rottweiler.  Montreal (and the rest of the Quebec province of Canada) is the closest thing to France (perhaps even Europe) within Northern America.  My inner franchophile is happy there.

Actually, elated.

Why?  Let me count the ways.

1.  French food is the mother lode of gastronomy, as far as I am concerned.  The French reverence for food resonates with me and all my senses, and if truth be told, this is why I came to Montreal. Gastronomy is a huge deal in Montreal, so much so that National Geographic has curated an iPad app called "A Taste of Montreal".  If you are considering going, it is a download must.  

2.  European-style Coffee.  We had coffee at this Italian place in Little Italy while the last few minutes of a soccer match was on between Munich and Chelsea.  Everyone was SO into it, it was fascinating. Great coffee is easy to find in Montreal, but whatever you do, avoid the touristy places in the Latin Quarter.  Go for Cafe St. Henri.  

3. Summer Thunderstorms

4.  An Abundance of Free Things to Do.  On my list are going for a run through a.) Mont-Royal to the top and back and b.) admiring the permanent collection at the Musee des Beaux Arts.  And it is not a puny collection either.  There's a Rodin, Dali, Picasso, Renoir, and then some. I have an affinity with the Dutch so I was thrilled that it had a sizable collection of Dutch masters.  Also particularly interesting was the collection of Bonaparte artifacts and modern furniture gallery.

Museums often get overwhelming but the size of the permanent collection here was just enough to stir your interest without boring you to tears or pushing you to fine art overdose.

5.  Bixi Bikes and Bike Lanes.  BIXI (Bike + Taxi) is Montreal's bike sharing system.  For $14 for three days, you can rent bikes to go all over Montreal.  If you return the bike to any of the BIXI kiosks (there's hundreds of them) within 29 minutes, you don't pay anything extra.  With BIXI, you don't have to worry about finding parking and paying for parking, plus you could eat more because you're burning more calories!  WIN!

6.  The History.  Especially in Old Downtown, it fascinates me how all these buildings have been around for centuries.  America doesn't have much for old architecture so I gobble it up when I am surrounded by it. There's something very romantic imagining life in a different era.  If those brick walls could talk.

Montreal also has its Notre-Dame and it's a rather magnificent structure.  It's smaller compared to the one in Paris, but still quite remarkable.

7.  The Cafe Culture Intertwined with the Work to Live Lifestyle.  I often profess that one of the reasons I travel is to gauge how much I have drank the Kool Aid in America.  By seeing how other people live in the rest of the world, I am able to benchmark if the way I am living my life is better off or worse off.  The French, and apparently, the Montrealers too, revere sitting in a cafe not just for the sake of sitting in a cafe, but to slow life down.

Life in America is packaged as efficient.  What that really means though is that things are always in a blurry rush because we never have a shortage of shit to do.  There is no time to savor, to taste.  Wasting time at a sidewalk cafe drinking coffee all morning is counter-productive.  But counter-productive to what?  Our jobs?  Our house chores?  The time we could all be sitting in front of the TV or the computer?

I have drank that Kool Aid.  We just finished dinner at a restaurant and I found myself tapping my fingers on the table wondering when the server is coming around with the check.  I caught myself and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks!  I was on vacation and I really have nowhere to be.  What was I in the rush for???

I would expect a lesson like this to come from a vacation at the beach, not from a major city rooted in French culture.  I admire many European countries, and indeed the city of Montreal, because they have a grasp that we only work to live and not the other way around.

If Montreal calls you, I only have one advice.  Brush up on your French and go.

Ch-ch-ch-Changes

Well, what do you know?  It seems like I just blinked and we're suddenly in September.  What happened?

I have had the good fortune of racking up some travel miles the last few weeks.  I was in Chicago for  a week, and barely just returned from a holiday in Canada starting with a mini-road trip through the Adirondacks from Albany, NY heading north to live Montreal, then west to Kitchener, then back to the States through Buffalo, NY.

Meanwhile, I have been put on a low-carbohydrate/high-protein/virtually-no-sugar (as much eggs and meat with vegetables/fruits, but never pasta, bread, rice, etc.) diet by a nutritionist.  My predisposition to diabetes and coronary disease by virtue of awesome genetics (both sides have it - double whammy for lucky me) compounded with my elevated triglycerides which could potentially lead to insulin resistance (read: I could have trouble metabolizing sugar down the road), led this medical professional to believe that I should not be eating as much pasta as I want and accustomed to.  Unless of course, I have an intense workout prior.  Wise incentive scheme, isn't it?  While I am perfectly healthy right now, I feel like I should take this seriously and really try to ban carbohydrates, if only for the challenge of saying it can be done and heck, I did it.

It's been three weeks (not counting the Montreal vacation - I mean, come on!  France in North America?) and the first two were miserable.  But once my body comprehended the reset that was happening, I sh*t you not, I feel amazing.  I've shed a couple pounds already also, but that's secondary.

Everyone can relate to the 3PM slump.  I never thought about this before, but after my nutritionist analyzed what my typical meals throughout the day are, even though I thought I was already eating healthy (wheat bread, bananas, no rice, homecooked pasta meals all convert to sugar eventually), he surmised that I was riding on a sugar rush pretty much all day.  When that rush is over, my body feels depleted thus signaling me to eat more.  And more sugar.  And by sugar, I mean anything with flour, wheat or corn, masking as something else.

When I took out carbs out of my diet, I noticed the rollercoaster stopped.  A snack to tide me over that infamous 3PM slump has vanished.

I do get cravings every once in a while.  Like today.  It's crazy to think that I have not had a cookie in a month and I've been jonesing for one lately.  So I made a batch today with almond flour, peanut butter, and sweetened just a teeny bit by maple syrup from Canada.  Looks are deceiving because although they look just like regular cookies, they taste so much blander, flatter.  Well, duh.  That's the point.  And I can deal with that. :)

And if that's not yet too much preoccupation this summer, I also started swimming a couple months ago!  I should clarify that what I meant was I learned how to swim.  I went from nada to nado (conjugated form of "I swim" in Spanish - I'm a word nerd like that)!  I do laps two to three times a week and guess what I have earned to eat afterwards?  Pasta!

I guess the gist of this rambling is this: your mind is powerful.  It can tell you, and quite convincingly, that you cannot do things.  It will tell you that if you have never swam in your entire life before, you never can.  It will tell you that cookies are supposed to be loaded with sugar and that removing sugar and carbs from your diet cannot be done.

But too, the mind is a muscle and posses the latent power of plasticity.  Rewiring is innate to your brain.  Give yourself more credit before surrendering to false notions that there are things that are impossible.  I mean, have you heard about Diana Nyad?  If you haven't, you should totally read up on her heroic swim from Cuba to Florida.  She's 62 years old, y'all.

It's been the month of empowering challenges.  Sometimes, it's easy to forget that that the words "I CAN'T" is mental.  Mine aren't as legendary as Diana Nyad's were, but it gives me a feeling of strength knowing that I am able to do things I have never been able to before.

Maybe next year, I'll set my eyes on singing.

Playing Dress-Up the Grown-Up Way

My favorite thing about a summer birthday is that I actually get to spend it in one of my most favorite places - outside.

I have been working on sprucing up our outdoor space since the beginning of summer.  The IKEA Ammero is in its second summer and it has held up very well withstanding snow and wind.  This space used to have a lot of red tones (see "before" pictures here), but I was ready for a younger, fresher look.  I went for the unusual combination of summer blue and coral.  Which as it would turn out, would also be the theme for my intimate summer backyard birthday party.

I sewed the chevron print curtains and all the printed throw cushion covers.  I ordered the fabric online from Fabric.com, which I later realized also sold at Amazon.com for cheaper shipping.  The solid orange ones are from IKEA.  The sheer curtains were the same ones I've had from last summer.  

With a Cricut Mini, I made all the pennant banners with printed cardboard stock.  It took longer to make than if I had just bought some at the store, but these are more personalized and really fun to make.  

I sewed these table runners using leftover fabric from the pillows.  The candle votive holders are also made of cardboard stock die-cut in a lovely pattern.  Yes, I also made those. 

I had requested my gracious friend to get some helium balloons in blue and coral.  They completed the festive theme for the party!  I never really knew how everything would come together.  So it was an utter delight to to see that everything did!  

In keeping with the theme, I picked up these paper straws and cut out moustaches from black cardboard stock.  I happen to have friends who don't mind poking fun at themselves.  To hold plasticware and the straws, I dressed up these mason jars with strips of leftover cardboard stock that I used for the pennants.

In a moment of synchronicity, while wandering around Target looking for nothing in particular, The Dutch and I saw these paper plates and napkins that exactly match our party decor.  They were $1 each pack of 8 - at 70% off!  Time to hoard!

And remember those votive holders?  Post-party, they will transform and be recycled into thank-you cards like this one I started tonight:

You'll know when the party was a roaring success if there is no shortage of loud, boisterous laughter until late.  We had a constant stream of delicious food and libations, and had a wild time playing games like little children.  And I am convinced it's these simple things that make life great, colorful and beautiful: love and togetherness with family and friends.   

I'm re-reading Jack Kerouac's "On the Road" and I have never thought this before, but I find the madness of his wild spirit rather intimidating. Yet, as double-three makes a gracious exit, I yearn to live like the one typefied by Kerouac:

"... the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars...."

Cheers to more colorful celebrations of life!  

Thirty four, BRING IT ON.