Monday Musings: How Running makes me kind of a Bad Ass.

Yesterday I was out on a long run.  THE long run leading up to my second ever Half Marathon next weekend.  Over the past three and a half years since I first started running I've changed in many ways that I don't really think about all that much.  Well... until yesterday.  Yesterday I thought about them a lot.

It was 8miles into a 13 mile run.  I was feeling great... well.... tired and smelly and thirsty and mildly insane... and great. I was waiting at the corner of an intersection waiting for the walk signal and stretching an achy foot out a little...generally minding my own business.  The walk signal came up and I started to run across the crosswalk.  Out of nowhere and loud enough to hear over my headphones I hear, "Run Faster, YOU FAT ASS UGLY BITCH!!  Run Faster!! IT'S NOT WORKING!!" and I turned to see some guys snickering in my direction from a truck at the intersection.  Holy Crap!  They were talking to me!  And what happened next was what got me thinking about this whole running thing.

 I laughed.  I laughed out loud in their faces, smacked my ass and kept on running.  

While I ran I thought about how that insult would have crushed me not that long ago... I never would have let it show but it would have made me sick to my stomach.  I would have agonized over it for far too long. Instead my first thought was "Pa-lease you sad little man.  This 'fat ass' just ran 8 miles.  It IS working".

Me and my medal after the San Diego Rock N Roll Half Marathon in June 2013

So here they are... four ways running makes me kind of a bad ass. (spoiler alert.... not one of them is 'it has made me skinny'.... I drink too much beer.  <shrug>)

1. Running makes me powerful.  My runner's body is not a "runner's body".... but it runs.  It runs FAR.  The first time I ran a 5k I could not BELIEVE I had run the entire way... no excuses, no bullshit... I just did it.  I remember half way through feeling like something was terribly wrong... my legs were shaking... my lungs felt like they were closing in on themselves... everything in my brain was telling me to stop.  I told my brain to shut the fuck up and kept running.  Thinking back on it I realize that nothing was terribly wrong.  I was just exercising.... and it was so foreign that my brain just freaked out! I know that sounds crazy.... but I also know someone out there knows exactly what I'm talking about.  So I feel powerful because I didn't stop.  I feel powerful because I refuse to stop.  I feel powerful because I keep surpassing the goals I set for myself.  I AM powerful.... and that makes me better at, well, everything.

2. Running makes me understand that competition, when it's healthy, does not mean I frigging hate everyone who is better at running than I am.  Do I still pick out "Rainbow Sock Lady" or "Beerfest TShirt Guy" in a race and decide that I am going to blow past them in the final sprint?  You bet I do.  Do I still pick up my pace and try not to look like a total mess when I'm passing another runner on the street?  Yes, Doesn't everyone?  But when I watch the lady at a 8.5 on the treadmill at the gym I marvel instead of grumble.. and when the guy finishes up a grueling beach run with a ridiculous sprint up the 100 steps to the parking lot and I hoot and cheer and send him good thoughts.  Three years ago I would have hated that guy... simply for being able to do something I couldn't do.  "Showoff. Ugh"  It's ridiculous how reasonable that seemed.  It's amazing how much better this feels...how great it feels to be genuinely excited about friends' Nike+ posts on facebook, or check-ins at 24hr Fitness.   It feels like being a positive force in the world.

3. Running has made me accept my body with love and honesty.  There was a very long time that I hid from the mirror when I got out of the shower.  I lived in a blissful  ignorance of the reality of my body. It was a real disconnect.  I had a vague idea of the whole situation but I liked to take it in brief glimpses and peeks of one area at a time... safer that way (but maybe not so blissful after all).  When I started to run it forced me to start thinking about my body... it made me appreciate it as a machine.  It yells at me when I push it, It soaks through gym clothes, and it does what I tell it to do (sometimes while swearing like a sailor but it still does it, dammit). It's MY machine.  And I finally understand what it means to love your body.  Love for its ability to continually surprised me with its strength and endurance.  Love for the post-run soreness. Love for the thrum and buzz in my muscles. Love for what my body can do....because even when I didn't believe that I could do it... it knew.   Don't get me wrong.  It's not all sunshine and rainbows.  While there is love there is also honesty.  I look in the mirror now when I get out of the shower. I mean I  loo-oook.   I see my jiggly belly, my wide hips, my thick thighs.  They are mine... and I see them.  I no longer hate them, I no longer obsess over them, and (most importantly) I no longer ignore them.  I have goals and I am honest about my progress.  Running has made me head in the right direction... no matter how slowly I get there... I'm getting there.  My body and I. Together.   Because we're in love.  

4. Finding my stride takes time.  Even after three years of running my body still fights me for a full mile.  My legs start to warm up, my heart starts to pump, my lungs start to work and my body instantly goes into its lazy asshole mode.... "We got shit to do.  Let's just stop running and go make a grocery list".... "It's so early!  Let's just go back to bed".... "I think I feel a leg cramp".... such a bitchy whiney asshole my body is for that mile.  Every. Damn. Time.   I remain determined and unwavering.  I ignore the grumbles and excuses and reasons I can't do it.  And then suddenly it happens.  It stops complaining.  All I hear is the sound of my feet on the ground and the bass thumping out a good rhythm to run to.    And I find my stride.  At that moment I feel like I could run for pretty much ever.  As soon as my brain and body just shut up and get on board I've won.  There's a metaphor for life somewhere in there.

So... Douchebag guy in the truck.   You didn't know it but I had already run 8 miles when I passed you in that crosswalk... and that I had 5 more to go.  You didn't know that I could run circles around your sad little situation.  It's okay.  You have no power over me with your ugliness.  You can't break my stride.  So I spank my bum at you and laugh in your general direction.  Because I'm kind of a Bad Ass.  And you kind of suck. Too bad for you, eh?  
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

Facebook Randy-isms:February Edition

So.  In effort to catalog the simple hilarity that is Randy J. for posterity I have decided to start compiling all of the funnies that I post on Facebook.  Instead of keeping this cataloging to myself like a normal person I've decided to blog it monthly for your viewing pleasure.  

This here is my collection of Randy's February Gems.  Enjoy... 


On our walk to the park today Randy got really quiet. I asked him what he was thinking about. 
"Well. I was thinkin' bout... It would only be a really good present to give your mommy a ball of poop if you and your mommy were dung beetles."


Now that is a true statement.

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Cripes! Why did I explain the concept of speed limits to this child?! "Yes. I am going the speed limit." "Yes. I saw the speed limit sign that said four zero. I'm going forty. I promise." "Yes. I know it sounded like I revved the engine. No. I'm not speeding." 

Seriously Man!!
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After judgily staring at his baby brother mid-screechfest he sighed and calmly said,"Sir. You're gonna need to reign it in about six notches." 

 My job here is done.

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Over the course of a few days amidst some serious pretend play Randy kept telling me we were going somewhere that sounded to me like "North Iraq". After pondering and then marveling at the geographical genius of my three year old (not to mention patting myself on the back for being such an amazing mother... I mean come on!) for DAYS I finally thought to ask him what we were going to do there. He said, "um. We could buy some new shirts or something." Oh. I see. Nordstrom Rack.

<mamafacepalm>
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[Randy asked me what we were doing one day and I told him it was a surprise..]
Randy: Is it the car wash?
Me: Better.
Randy: BETTER THAN THE CAR WASH?!?!?!

He is a man of simple tastes.
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Me: Randy. They color of the week is brown. I don't think you have any brown shirts to wear to school. Any ideas?
Randy: I could cover a shirt with chocolate and wear it.... And then I can lick it when I get hungry for chocolate.
Me: You don't think that would be kinda weird? Licking your shirt all day at school?
Randy: No. It would be delicious.

Well.  Yes.
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"I'm gonna get you a Princess Leia angry bird for Valentine's Day Mama 'cause Princess Leia is almost as pretty as you."

The Boy's got skills.
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Mama. It's sad you always gotta clean so much all the time. Who's making this big crazy mess?! They should cut it out. 

Word, Bro.
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An open letter to every Mom's Group I didn't join.

I quit my job to stay home with my kids two years ago. Over the past two years I have been asked over and over if I've joined any Mommy Groups. The answer is a resounding No Siree. I had high hopes in this area when I first made the switch. I googled...I signed up with 'Meet Up' groups... All in hopes of finding my crew. My Mommy Crew. I have epically failed in this arena. I full on creepily stalked a few Mom's groups... but couldn't bring myself to officially join. I really have no one to blame but my crazy self. I've compiled a short list (this is how I do) of why I fear I am not Mommy Group material .

Problem One: I'm terrible at this whole 'making friends' thingy. It's like dating. I think I would suck at that too. I always claim to be socially awkward but really I don't have the patience to hear about your extravagant trip to Grand Cayman or how every boy born in your husband's family for 9 generations has been named Wilfred. I mean. I would probably be completely interested in that if you were my friend... But you are a stranger... And I don't have time for that bullshit. So. I suck.

Problemo Two: I tell other people's kids what to do. Moms hate that shit. It's a bad habit from being a preschool teacher. I remind them to be safe, tell them to keep their hands to themselves, generally get all up in their business when they are playing with my kids. I'm never ever rude or unkind.... But still. Moms hate it. They also seem to hate that I openly welcome the same. If my kiddo is being unsafe and you see it....tell him to stop! If you aren't crazy about his obsession with super heroes suggest a fun new game...they are one and three and need some guidance. Be a part of my village Ladies.

And my biggest problem: I kind of dig just hanging out with my kids. This makes me the biggest weirdo, I fear, in the eyes of many a Mom. It also makes me too lazy to start my own Mom's Group. I'm super bossy (shocking)... so you'd think I would be all over that nonsense but I can't get myself into the idea of being in charge of anything but my fambam. I legitimately enjoy walking around the park having lengthy conversations about the disposition and history of the troll that lives under the bridge. I enjoy racing down our street with the stroller while my three year old tears ass next to me trying to win. I build a killer Lego fortress and love laying in blanket forts. I'm super freaking psyched about what I get to do all day. Please don't misunderstand. I am always. always. ALWAYS. ready for bedtime to come so I can put those crazy people to bed... and listen to nothing but the sound of wine pouring in my glass. They are exhausting... and some days we all high five for making it through the day without anyone getting voted off the island. But I'm grateful.... and happy.... and having fun. And between that and a conversation about why your family bed was the best decision you ever made... Well. I choose option one.

So. To wrap up... I'm Judgey. Impatient. Bossy. And Weird. It's a wonder that I have any friends at all. Amazingly enough I do.... and I think I'd rather just stick with that lucky fact. So thanks anyway Mommy Groups. Carry on.

What's Cookin' Good Lookin'?: Brioche Au Chocolate

The smell of fresh pastries baking the oven.... not such a bad way to start a Saturday morning.  This week's winning recipe here at the Burns Abode is 

Brioche Au Chocolate 

from the glorious Flour Cookbook.  

Smeary chocolate-faces and smiles of delight.... also not a bad start to a Saturday.

Just a quick note about the cookbook, Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston’s Flour Bakery + Cafe.  Seriously.... you should buy this book.  I am a terrible.... abysmal really... baker and this book magically turns me into a fancy French pastry chef.  Joann Chang writes her recipes like she's talking to you... and by 'you' I mean me...and by 'me' I mean that at the very moment in the recipe when I start to look at my bowl of ingredients and start to worry that I've done something wrong she writes something like "At this point your dough will look shaggy and just plain questionable... don't worry... keep mixing... it will get shiny and smooth soon!"  Basically I have a total chef-crush on her.  

So here it goes!  I suggest you read through all the recipes so you can work out how long it will take you and when to begin the process so that you can have these delicious little suckers for breakfast instead of 9pm on a Thursday.  I find that this is good advice with any baking recipe... keeps you from standing in your kitchen and yelling "Now chill for TWO HOURS?! Are you kidding me?!" shaking your fist at the sky.....(not that that has ever happened to me..) 

Brioche au Chocolat
from Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston’s Flour Bakery + Cafe
makes 10 pastries

1/2 recipe Basic Brioche dough (recipe follows)
1 recipe Pastry Cream (recipe follows)
4 oz (114g) bittersweet chocolate (62 to 70 percent cacao), chopped, or bittersweet chocolate chips (just under 2/3 cup).
1 egg

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

On a floured work surface, roll out the dough into a rectangle about 20 inches by 10 inches and 1/4 inch thick. It will have the consistency of cold, damp Play-Doh and should be fairly easy to roll. Position the rectangle so a long side is facing you. Spread the pastry cream evenly over the bottom half (a 20 by 5 inch section) of the rectangle. Fold the top half of the rectangle completely over the bottom half, then press down gently so the halves are smooshed together.

Use a bench scraper of a chef’s knife to cut the filled dough into 10 pieces, each about 2 inches wide; each piece will be about 2 by 5 inches. (At this point, the unbaked pastries can be tightly wrapped in plastic and frozen for up to 1 week. When ready to bake, thaw them, still wrapped, in the refrigerator overnight or at room temperature for 2 to 3 hours, then proceed as directed.)

Carefully transfer the brioche to the prepared baking sheet. Cover the pastries lightly with plastic wrap and place in a warm spot to proof for about 2 hours, or until the dough is puffy, pillowy, and soft. Position a rack in the center of the oven, and heat the oven to 350 degrees F.

In a small bowl, whisk the egg until blended. Gently brush the tops of the pastries with the beaten egg.

Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or until golden brown. Let cool on the baking sheet on a wire rack for 20 to 30 minutes. The pastries tend to bake into one another in the oven, so break apart into 10 pieces. The pastries are best served warm or within 4 hours of baking. They can be stored in an airtight container at room temperature for up to 1 day, and then warmed in a 300-degree-F oven for 5 minutes before serving.

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Basic Brioche
from Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston’s Flour Bakery + Cafe

*Makes 2 loaves
Note: Do not halve this recipe. There won’t be enough dough to engage the dough hook of your mixer, and the dough won’t get the workout it needs to become a light, fluffy bread. Don’t worry about having too much: Both the dough and the baked loaves freeze well, and having a freezer filled with brioche is never a bad thing.

2 1/4 cups (315 grams) unbleached all-purpose flour
2 1/4 cups (340 grams) bread flour
1 1/2 packages (3 1/4 teaspoons) active dry yeast, or 1 ounce (28 grams) fresh cake yeast
1/2 cup plus 1 tablespoon (82 grams) sugar
1 tablespoon kosher salt
1/2 cup (120 grams) cold water
6 eggs
1 cup plus 6 tablespoons (2 3/4 sticks/310 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature, cut into 10 to 12 pieces

In a stand mixer fitted with the dough hook, combine the all-purpose flour, bread flour, yeast, sugar, salt, water, and 5 of the eggs. Beat on low speed for 3 to 4 minutes, or until all of the ingredients have come together. Stop the mixer as needed to scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl to make sure all of the flour is incorporated into the wet ingredients. Once the dough has come together, beat on low speed for another 3 to 4 minutes. The dough will be very stiff and seem quite dry.

On low speed, add the butter one piece at a time, mixing after each addition until it disappears into the dough. Then, continue mixing on low speed for about 10 minutes, stopping the mixer occasionally to scrape the sides and bottom of the bowl. It is important for all of the butter to be mixed thoroughly into the dough. If necessary, stop the mixer occasionally and break up the dough with your hands to help mix in the butter.

Once the butter is completely incorporated, turn up the speed to medium and beat for another 15 minutes, or until the dough becomes sticky, soft, and somewhat shiny. It will take some time to come together. It will look shaggy and questionable at the start and then eventually will turn smooth and silky. Then, turn the speed to medium-high and beat for about 1 minute. You should hear the dough make a slap-slap-slap sound as it hits the sides of the bowl. Test the dough by pulling at it: it should stretch a bit and have a little give. If it seems wet and loose and more like a batter than a dough, add a few tablespoons of flour and mix until it comes together. If it breaks off into pieces when you pull at it, continue to mix on medium speed for another 2 to 3 minutes, or until it develops more strength and stretches when you grab it. It is ready when you can gather it all together and pick it up in one piece.

Place the dough in a large bowl or plastic container and cover it with plastic wrap, pressing the wrap directly onto the surface of the dough. Let the dough proof in the refrigerator for at least 6 hours or up to overnight. At this point, you can freeze the dough in an airtight container for up to 1 week.

To make two brioche loaves, line the bottom and sides of two 9 by 5 inch loaf pans with parchment, or butter the pans liberally. Divide the dough in half and press each piece into about a 9-inch square. The dough will feel like cold, clammy Play-Doh. Facing the square, fold down the top one-third toward yo, and then fold up the bottom one-third, as if folding a letter. Press to join these layers. Turn the folded dough over and place it, seam-side down in one of the prepared pans. Repeat with the second piece of dough, placing it in the second prepared pan.

Cover the loaves lightly with plastic wrap and place in a warm spot to proof for about 4 to 5 hours, or until the loaves have nearly doubled in size. They should have risen to the rim of the pan and be rounded on top. When you poke at the dough, it should feel soft, pillowy and light, as if it’s filled with air – because it is! At this point, the texture of the loaves always reminds me a bit of touching a water balloon.

Position a rack in the center of the oven, and heat the oven to 350 degrees F.

In a small bowl, whisk the remaining egg until blended. Gently brush the tops of the loaves with the beaten egg.

Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, or until the tops and sides of the loaves are completely golden brown. Let cool in the pans on wire racks for 30 minutes, then turn the loaves out of the pans and continue to cool on the racks.

The bread can be stored tightly wrapped in plastic wrap at room temperature for up to 3 days (if it is older than 3 days, try toasting int) or in the freezer for up to 1 month.

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Pastry Creamfrom Flour: Spectacular Recipes from Boston’s Flour Bakery + Cafe

1 1/4 cups (300g) milk
1/2 cup (100g) sugar
1/4 cup (30g) cake flour
1/2 tsp kosher salt
4 egg yolks
1 tsp vanilla extract

In a medium saucepan, scald the milk over medium-high heat (bubbles start to form around the edges of the pan, but the milk is not boiling). While the milk is heating, in a small bowl, stir together the sugar, flour, and salt. (Mixing the flour with the sugar will prevent the flour from clumping when you add it to the egg yolks.) In a medium bowl, whisk the egg yolks until blended, then slowly whisk in the flour mixture. The mixture will be thick and pasty.

Remove the milk from the heat and slowly add it to the egg-flour mixture, a little at a time, whisking constantly. When all of the milk has been incorporated, return the contents of the bowl to the saucepan and place over medium heat. Whisk continuously and vigorously for about 3 minutes, or until the mixture thickens and comes to a boil. At first, the mixture will be very frothy and liquid; as it cooks longer, it will slowly start to thicken until the frothy bubbles disappear and it becomes more viscous. Once it thickens, stop whisking every few seconds to see if the mixture has come to a boil. If it has not, keep whisking vigorously. As soon as you see it bubbling, immediately go back to whisking for just 10 seconds, and then remove the pan from the heat. Boiling the mixture will thicken it and cook out the flour taste, but if you let it boil for longer than 10 seconds, the mixture can become grainy.

Pour the mixture through a fine-mesh sieve into a small heat-proof bowl. Stir in the vanilla, then cover with plastic wrap, placing it directly on the surface of the cream. This will prevent a skin from forming. Refrigerate for at least 4 hours, or until cold, or up to 3 days.

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Crazy Lady finds Preschool. News at 11.

This preschool quest tale has a happy ending... but I think it's only fitting that I let you delve into my crazy a little before it does.

My search for a preschool for Randy.... which I thought would be easy peasy... turned into a crazy frenzy that I had not prepared myself for. Suddenly I became the crazy mom that I remember touring with as a Director.... only (much to the chagrin of the poor poor directors) I had inside trader information and my questions were terrifying......

"I noticed that child went into this empty classroom from outside to use the bathroom while the teacher waited at the door to the playground. Is she still in ratio outside?  Is that standard procedure?" ( I actually heard her gulp)
"I see that the posted lesson plan has 'animal hospital' in dramatic play but it has babies in washtubs... do the centers change on Thursdays?" (It was Wednesday.. I'm an a-hole)
"This art looks great. (gesturing to wall)  I see that the date of these ones say March on them...is the art center open daily?  "
"When this teacher is in the kitchen getting the snack does another teacher step into the classroom to maintain the ratio?" (no... the answer was clearly no.)

These aren't even the worst of my questions.  I'm a jerk.

 I learned three things touring the first six preschools we visited:
1. I should be proud of what I did as a Director. There was drama and craziness... but hell... put any 20 women under the same roof and what can you expect? We were so VERY far above them ALL in standards that it made my head spin.  It made me proud of the work we all did there. The love, professionalism and dedication that flowed so freely and easily. (okay... so the next logical question you are asking is why aren't you just taking him there... that's a long story... involving my stubbornness and a lady with the most offensive perfume I've ever smelled... but that's another story)
2.  I had to calm the hell down on these tours.  There is absolutely no reason to make these women sweat.  I needed to just smile and cross them the frig off my list.  
3.  I needed to check myself before I wrecked myself.... and our bank account.  I began my search with a budget of $300 a month MAX for two days a week (and man that was a bitch to budget) and at the climax of my mentalness was considering a preschool that offered cooking classes, a yoga instructor, three languages, intensive classical music immersion and a whole myriad of craziness for the low low value price of $615 a month.  What? Wait, what?!

Soooo... long story short I actually used my smahts for good instead of evil and remembered what the heck preschool is actually for.  Preschool is about making my kiddo the most prepared person possible to kick ass in his entire future of school.... while learning a perfect flan is a wonderful skill what he really needs to be able to do is the following:

-Sit still... this may be the most difficult.
-Know when to talk and when to listen.
-Be kind... really kind to everyone.  Understand how his actions affect others and give a crap about it.
-Keep him proud of his glorious love of exploration and help him learn to focus it.  
-Introduce him to a bunch of different people from different backgrounds... in an environment where they are encouraged to embrace each other for exactly who they are.  
-Perfect his 'taking turns' skills... because in these here parts toys are either his or used to be his and therefore he has first dibs because Sammy a. moves slower and b. is genuinely happy to watch Randy play with all his stuff.  See my problem?
-Did I already say sit still?
-The date... but this is purely selfish because I never know what the hell day it is.  

Oh.  and keep him safe.... because, well, the fire that wells up in my belly just thinking about that could burn ice cubes. 

All the other stuff.... well.... that's great too!  Every song, every book, every messy mess they let him get filthy playing in... all good.  He wants to know all sorts of everything... he'll soak it all up.  It's 6 hours a week.... I am here the other 162 .  I got the rest of this sh*t covered.  (and btw... he makes a fine flan already)

So I reined myself in and took some really excellent advice and enrolled him in the City of San Marcos preschool program.  It looks clean and fun and full of learning... and he's going to have a flipping blast... and really that's all this Mama gives a crap about.  

So...my baby starts school in less than two weeks.  

3 months to 3 years in a blink.

<insert heart squeezing painfully in my chest here>

Food for the Soul

This week my sous chef and I have been busy bees in the kitchen.  It seems like we have so much going on both right now and on the horizon... all of it buzzing around in my head making me a little bit nutters.  What do I do in times when my head is full?  I cook.... I dust off complicated recipes and spend time inventing dishes sure to produce smiles at the table and full happy bellies.  I do it for my family but I also do it for me.  I find a comfort in a simmering pot of this and a baking dish of that.  Lately I have watched as another little person has been dragging his step stool over to my counter and joining me in this simple pleasure... "Momma... can I be your zoo chef today?"  It's like our version of bellying up to the bar.  We laugh and joke and have a grand old time while we prep and cook. 

It makes me get that familiar feeling in the back of my throat as I watch him sifting and mixing.  I have visions.... of him far from me with a pot of something delicious on the stove filling his apartment with smells from home... of us in the kitchen over fifty Thanksgivings chopping and laughing and making as a big a mess as we do these days.  It's a simple thing we do... in days filled with the rigors of being a two year old but I think it might be my very favorite.  I think it might be the most important.

Now... if I could get him to actually eat half the things he prepares we'd be in business. 

This Week's Menu So far:
 Monday: Chicken Piccata with Barley Rissotto
Tuesday: Port Marinated Steak Tips, Roasted Rosemary Potatoes and Tomatoes Provencal
Wednesday: Carnitas Tacos with pickled red cabbage slaw