I’m not who I was.

On Sunday, my body went farther, faster, stronger and longer than it ever has before.  I finished my third half marathon almost 20 minutes faster than the others.  I ran the whole race.  And at about a 10-minute mile (the fastest I have gone over such a distance.  Ever.  Period.).  I have never hurt so good.

Post-race euphoria.

Life is so funny—for Halloween 3 years ago, I thought I had come up with the most brilliant costume ever.  My parents had just moved to Southern California (I was not at all happy about this at the time) and I had gone down to see their new house and do a load of laundry.  I was lamenting having no costume for the Halloween party I was going to that night, when my mom offered me her marathon shirt from her marathon in Alaska.  Throw on a pair of workout pants and your tennis shoes, she said, and go as a marathon runner!  Brilliant, I thought.  What a great costume.  I will NEVER in my life run a marathon.

3 years ago, with my friend Wednesday
who was Red Riding Hood.

Oh, life, how funny you really are.  I am writing this blog from my parents’ house, where I am currently living, absolutely thrilled that they are so close to LA (where I am looking for a job…) and not back in Iowa.  (They also happen to live in a very hilly part of the world, making Sunday’s race on a mostly flat course fast and furious.)  And in 2 weeks, I begin marathon training for my first marathon in March.  I really am not who I was.

Being unemployed is not for the faint of heart.  I have been back in the States for almost 3 months now, and not so much as a nibble.  And it’s certainly not for lack of trying.  But these last 3 months have most certainly not been without some amazing opportunities that I wouldn’t have otherwise had.

I have had the time necessary to dedicate to training.  Running every day takes time, planning, and commitment.  I have never been so committed to anything physical like this before in my life.  Even after completely losing 2 toenails, ripping brand new pants while beautifully skinning my knee after falling on a run (turns out I bounce and make a few “Grape Lady Falls” noises…), and enduring just plain old muscle fatigue and soreness, I held my nose to that grindstone.

As Paul writes in Romans, suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope (5:3-4).  If you run, you know there is suffering.  Not all runs are amazing.  I don’t always hit my stride.  Sometimes, every step hurts.  My favorite spectator sign on Sunday read, “Running is a mental sport.  You are all insane.”  Running is mental.  Sometimes I can’t get out of my brain enough to just go.  It does take perseverance to finish the run, to finish the race, to give it my all.  The last 2 miles of the race were brutal.  My toes hurt more than anything; I have a smattering of little water blisters all along the edges of toes to show for the pain.  But that really didn’t seem to matter when I crossed the finish line completely overwhelmed with emotion at my finishing time.  My dedication paid off in ways I couldn’t have begun to imagine when I started training.  (And if you haven’t experienced runner’s high for yourself, I am telling you, you are missing out!!!)

I am no longer the girl in the marathon shirt pretending to be a runner.  I am a runner.  Obsessed?  Maybe.  Insane?  Definitely. :)

On Chocolate Chip Cookies & Oreo Balls.

So when I taught high school, I made the mistake my first year teaching, of telling my students about Oreo Balls, or Oreo Truffles, their more socially appropriate name.  I am not sure what possessed me to tell them about my senior prom and the dinner we had at my house (potluck style with my 5 high school besties and our dates) and the Oreo Balls that Jon, Katie’s date, brought.  They were so. stinking. good.  (How can Oreo, cream cheese and chocolate NOT be good?!)  We, with our 18 years of wisdom and living, dubbed them “Jon’s Glorious Balls.”  They pretty much lived up to their name…  I mean, 10 years later, I am STILL talking about them.  (Again, not sure what the context was for me to share this with a bunch of high school freshmen in Spanish I, but I am sure I made a sound connection to the lesson.)  The year I told this story was the year of a big school inspection for accreditation of the school.  Basically, we drowned ourselves in paper work trying to make sure we had every hoop, loop and jump documented so we could be accredited and not have to do that again for 4 more years.  Part of the process was having one of the accreditors come and observe us teach.  No pressure!  I told the kiddos that if they were well-behaved, I would make them Oreo Balls.

Biggest mistake of my teaching career.

They really do live up to their glory, and I am fairly certain that now my name at school is synonymous with Oreo Balls.  When I went back to visit over Christmas, little freshmen whom I had never met before were asking me about them…

ANYWAY…  This is my last week of school here in Spain and I wanted to do something for my teachers as a thank you.  Chocolate chip cookies, I thought (and this recipe was perfect!).  They are easy and quintessentially American.  I had a blast in the kitchen rocking to Mumford & Sons.  (If you don’t have their album, stop reading and go get it.  Seriously.  SO GOOD!)

On a slightly different note that is totally related, my life is seriously a shake Etch’A’Sketch these days, and I feel like I am in mid-shake, so having a little control over the kitchen surprisingly gave me a quiet sense of calm amidst the total chaos that is my life.  Amazing what a little flour and sugar and chocolate will do for a girl!

But as I was balling up the cookies, I started giggling to myself thinking about all my Oreo Ball adventures from the past couple of years.  I ended up making these glorious balls maybe 4 times?  Which doesn’t sound like a big deal until I tell you that I had over 100 students.  I tried (and failed at) a variety of methods to expedite the process.  Using the blender to mash up the cookie part after I had carefully removed by hand the white filling from each cookie.  Sticking a blue spatula into the blender to help the cookies get mashed more quickly only to remove the spatula and find that the blender had totally munched up the edge.  I had to pick blue plastic out of the cookies before mixing in the cream cheese…  Then the balling, freezing, dipping in white chocolate (which incidentally melts way better than dark, if you are feeling brave), the refreezing…

(The dark ones in the picture are undipped and the white ones have been dipped.
Seriously, took me HOURS…)

These cookies were so easy by comparison.  And darn good too.  Not quite as chewy as I personally like my chocolate chip cookies, but all in all, a successful afternoon in the kitchen.

Buda.Pest: Top 10

A couple of weekends ago, I went to Budapest Hungary with Veronica, who I lived with when I lived in Denia in college.  Here are some of the highlights of the trip.

10.  Pink and purple airplanes.

Yes, yes, you read that right.  WizzAir, a Hungarian line, boast these colors as their colors.  Now, pink is my absolute favorite color (I really need to tone it down…) and I love me some purple (loved them together when I was like 8!) but as colors for an airline, I even sort of have to draw the line.

The pink and purple in all its glory.
But the flights were cheap, so I really can’t complain.

9.  Our little apartment.  (Complete with love swans!)

Somehow I always imagined my first love swan experience would be on my honeymoon…  Or with a boo or something.  But no.  In Budapest.  With Veronica. :)

The apartment had a little kitchen and a bathroom.  There was a computer in the main, great room with wifi (which didn’t work for me though…).  But otherwise it was perfect.

And we conquered Budapest with such poise and grace, like the international women that we are. ;)  Everything was in Hungarian (which is so NOT a Romance language, not even CLOSE!).

By bus…

By metro…

By tram…

7.  Meeting the locals.

So turns out that there are really limited hours for women at the Turkish baths in Budapest.  Bummer.  Women’s days are Tuesdays and Saturday and Sunday.  On Friday, we thought we would end the day with a nice bath…  Nope.  Only one was open for women.  And it was not a famous tourist one.  Which meant lots of charades, sign language and lots and lots of giggles.  The bath was great– the sauna and the sulfer-infused water.  Delightful.  We stayed until the baths closed, and as Veronica was grabbing something out of her bag, I snapped a self-portrait.

This couple (mother/son) came up and tsk-tsk’d me, saying that they would take my picture.  The woman joined us for this little picture.  She was adorable!!!

We ended up walking out of the baths together and as we walked to the tram to go back to our hotel, we talked.  She spoke Hungarian to us as if we spoke it fluently.  And like I said, Hungarian is not like ANY other language I have ever heard.  To my ears, it’s a bunch of nonsensical sounds strung together…  No offense, Hungarian.  I am sure you are a beautiful language that I just don’t understand.  Veronica made the point that if we all spoke the same language, there would be no wars.  Good point.  While we were trying to get into this bath, the woman quoted us a price in very broken English and then said another price and “10 minutes” and she kept saying “10 minutes” showing us her 1o fingers to reiterate…  We were just confused.  We didn’t want to pay for only 10 minutes in the baths.  Turns out what she was saying was that if we WAITED 10 minutes, we could pay less.  Ahhh…   How nice of her.  That is NOT what we were thinking as we were all mostly confused.

Anyway, this woman did not speak a WORD of English and all I could say was köszönöm (coos-ooh-noom, or something like that…) which means “thank you.”  I laughed and laughed and so did she.  She was adorable.  Her name was Ana (or something like that) and if I understood her correctly, she was 75 years old.  Adorbs.

6. Churches & Synagogues

The churches in this town were mighty impressive.

And the city boasts the largest synagogue in Europe.  We tried twice to see the synagogue.  Our first attempt– Saturday.  We knew we wouldn’t get in to see it, so we took pictures of the outside.  On Sunday, before we caught our shuttle to the airport, we decided to try again.  Jewish holiday.  Bummer.  But we had some amazing vegetarian food instead.

 

Yum. :) 

5.  Castle District

We wandered up to this amazing district on a hill.  There’s a church and a bastille.   The views were spectacular.  Here are some of the pics.

Veronica and me.

Some cute little shops up in the Castle District.

Up at the church.

The view from the Bastille.

The gorgeous Parliament Building.  Next time I ma in Budapest, I will have to check it out.

Windy windy windy!

4.  Buda Castle

 The castle was also up on the hill where the church was.  I was expecting more of a castle castle, like giant bricks and turrets and such, but it was essentially a palace.  With a couple of pretty sweet fountains!

See?  More palace, less castle…

One of the fountains.

Climbed right up the other one. ;)

3.  Museum of Terror

This museum was built in a building where a lot of really hideous things happened in Budapest during and after World War II.  I wasn’t sure I wanted to go, but my dear friend Allison (who lived in Budapest in college) suggested it, and ALL her suggestions (practically everything we did) were awesome.

The front of the building.  Andrássy út 60.  Synonymous with terror.

All the faces on the wall are of people who were subjected to torture and/or death in the basement of the building.  Crazy.  The tank is real.  For whatever reason, this is the only place where pictures can be taken.  

The museum is the whole building, and the tour took us through a variety of the rooms and their uses.  The basement was FREAKY!  All the REAL cells where people were tortured.  Some of the methods were really sobering…  And seeing the real spaces was kinda unnerving.  I went into the padded room and about had a panic attack and came right back out.

2.  Food

The food was out. of. this. world.  Here are some pictures to drool over.  YUM!

 
Goulash.

Veronica and her goulash (which was so much better than mine! ;))

Kebaps and raspberry fanta.

Lángos.  Deep fried bread with sour cream and cheese and toppings.
Seriously, what’s NOT to love?!

Sitting in front of me there is my own personal serving of diabetes.  The iced coffee I THOUGHT I ordered was coffee with 2 scoops of ice cream, whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.  All I wanted was coffee with ice cubes, I promise.  And the cake?  Had some sort of apricot something between layers of chocolate cake and frosting.  I can feel my blood sugar rising as I type…

Hungarian wine at the New York Cafe.  Mmm.

1.  Baths

Budapest is famous for their Turkish baths, and they didn’t disappoint.  We went to 3 different ones.  The first one, where we met the locals, was Lukács (pronounced “luke-ach”).  Then we went to Szechenyi, one of the bigger, more popular baths.  These were not my favs.  They were HUGE and had a ton of baths, but there were a TON of people, too.  Hot baths, lots of people.  All I could think of were all the little things growing around…  Maybe the sulfur keeps everything clean?  Here we got massages from “Anus massage.”  You think I am kidding?  Totally not.

Here are some pics of the baths themselves at Szechenyi:

Our last day, we went to Rudas.  This was by far and away the best bath we went to.  Started off a little bizarre when I asked one of the guys who worked there where my friend had gone and he then proceeded to invite me into one of the little cabins with him…  Nah, I’m good, thanks.  But the baths were AMAZING.  Sat in the sauna for a while.  Just relaxed.  Veronica got a pretty sweet water massage, but I decided to save a few of my shekels.  I took pictures. ;)

Veronica’s massage.  I do sort of wish I had gotten one.  The guys looked like pretty great masseurs!

The inside: glorious!

And here are some other random pictures from the trip. :)

The Swarovski crystal wall.  I had my picture taken here and then a guy and his girlfriend came up.  He scoldingly shook his head at me and she thanked me profusely. ;)

Some Hungarian traditional garb.

Meggy– the Hungarian word for cherry!  What my dad calls me.

Just missing the angel on my shoulder.

Paprika galore!

This is me jumping because the car started playing very loud music as I posed for the picture.  Scared me to death.

A random sculpture in front of the Hotel Gellert.

UB– it’s YOUR STORE! :)

All in all, a pretty fun time had in Budapest.  I will most definitely have to go back.

100 Days of Madrid: Photography rocks my world.

Before I get down to the good stuff, let me tell you that Sara Bareillis is playing, the window is open (and all kinds of bugs are flying in!), it’s the most perfect temperature, and I am sitting next to the most beautiful, fragrant roses ever.  The smell is delightfully intoxicating.  All this to say, life is good. :)

(The woman who lives across the hall from me gave me the roses in the elevator last night on our way up.  They came from her house in the campo.  Aren’t they gorgeous?!)

And now back to the countdown!

86.  Centro de Cultura Moncloa World Press Photo Exhibit.

This by far was my favorite thing I have done yet here in Madrid.  I found this exhibit thanks to my friend Carmen who put me onto the website madridfree.com (it’s awesome).

The exhibit was a really cool space in and of itself and the photos were arranged very simply, yet strikingly.

I knew I loved photography, but this whole exhibit really blew my mind and made me fall in love even more with photography.  (UB, you would have LOVED it!!!)  I took some pictures of the pictures, but they really don’t do them justice.  To see little thumbnails and descriptions of the winning pictures, go here.  The pictures dealt with just about everything you can imagine: child brides in the Middle East, the biggest cave in the world, the tsunami in Japan, Egypt, Lybia, housing evictions in the US, the IronMan in Hawaii, rhinos having their tusks removed, sharks having their fins removed, Alzheimer’s, international fashion…  And that doesn’t even really begin to scratch the surface of these pictures…  At each new set of photos, I read the whole plack and seriously said, “oh my gosh” like a bagillion times (does that really surprise you?).

This was my favorite picture: the swimmers of the IronMan in Kona from underneath.

85.  Reading in Retiro

This might be my new favorite place in all of Madrid.  This park is spectacular.  And I have discovered that I can be quite productive on a lot of fronts there.  This past weekend was GORGEOUS, so I put on loads of sunscreen and my bathing suit and took my Kindle to the park.  Heck of a way to get my grad school reading done AND get my dose of Vitamin D and some starter tan lines (how’s THAT for productive!).

Just another beautiful afternoon in Retiro!

There are guys that walk through the park with plastic bags full of “cerveza, coca-cola, agua” for way too much, but with the heat, a €1.50 beer never tasted so good.

84.  Feria de San Isidro

San Isidro is the local festival in Madrid.  There were festivities all weekend/week for it.  You will have to wait for this week’s post for the real scoop, but it’s so cool!  There’s so much tradition surrounding this holiday!  This was the fair that was set up along the Madrid Rio.  Sara and I went on what we have dubbed a marathon walk (we walked almost 3 hours!) and meandered through the fair.  It smelled like the State Fair– lots of fried foods, hot dogs, lemonade.  For a minute, it didn’t feel like Spain.

83.  Chez Leandre

This was pretty hilarious– Sara and I started our marathon walk in Lavapies, where some festivities were said to have been.  We got there and the streets were surprisingly empty…  But we found a small crowd of people and wandered over to see what was what.  A guy, dressed somewhat homelessly, had set up a little stage and was taking people from the audience and doing this whole absolutely hilarious sketch.

He didn’t say a word though.  But between his facial expressions and ridiculous gestures, it was so funny!  He describes himself as a clown, and says that he’s not homeless, but that the street is his home.  Hmm…

82. Fireworks in Retiro.

Again, all connected to San Isidro, there were fireworks in the Retiro over the estanque after dark.  We went on Monday night, but unlike EVERYthing in this country, they started right on time, and we were stuck watching from under some trees on the outskirts of the little lake.  So we did a repeat performance.  And oh was it ever awesome.  I have never seen fireworks choreographed to music, but these were so impressive!!!  And all to Spanish San Isidro music.  So cool.

Sort of put 4th of July fireworks to shame…

81.  Casa Encendida

Thanks again to MadridFree, I made my way to this museum.  The exhibits were sort of weird, not going to lie.  But the space was unlike any museum I have ever been in.

This was one exhibit that I really enjoyed.  José Miguel Ullán.

Megan, a fellow auxiliar from school, joined me and we went straight from school.  Hitting our mid-afternoon lull, we needed a bit of a pick-me-up.  Coffee, of course!  And even the cafe (the place) was really unique.  Hanging from the ceiling was a chandelier made of Bic pens.  

920 to be exact.  Only costs meager €2,400.

Roberto, the barista, was from Sardina in Italy, so our cafés con leche were more like espressos and had a swirly milk top.  He asked if we wanted cocoa on top.  Duh.  He told us we would not get coffee like this anywhere else in Madrid.  It was really good.

80.  Granier

Bakeries in this city are pretty magnificent.  We don’t really have anything comparable in the US, at least in my experience.  Panera maybe?  But that is such a pathetic comparison to a Spanish bakery.  And they just opened one literally a block from where I live.  It feels like a cruel joke.  I have to walk by the fresh baked bread and bollería every day…  The smell alone is enough to knock you out.  SO GOOD!!!  I have been there to read a few times.  Great atmosphere.

 That’s a chocolate filled croissant and a cup of café con leche.
And my Kindle, of COURSE.  (I don’t go anywhere without it… ;))

Stay tuned for this week’s haps.   I must say, for all the work this has turned out to be, it’s been really fun and I have seen SO MUCH of Madrid that I NEVER would have seen otherwise.  And I so love sharing it all with you. :)  More later!

100 Days of Madrid: Pretty in Pink

87.  La Carrera de La Mujer.

“I am made of a strength I didn’t know I had.”  YES!

This is the one that really deserved its own entry.  This “race” belongs in a category all its by itself!

22,000 women.  All in hot pink shirts.  Most of whom had NO idea what they were doing.

So my friend Sara and I met to pick up our goody bags from the Corte Ingles (the department store where you can get anything and EVERYthing you could ever imagine), literally wading our way through the flooded streets of Madrid, the rain POURING down.

The goody bags should have been our first clue to the atrocity of this race.  Milk with added fiber (40%!), vag cleanser called Chilly that smells like IcyHot (just the sensation I want down there, of COURSE!), and alcohol-free beer in a pink can.  We also got a slap bracelet.  And a magazine from August 2011 (now that’s class!).  And large t-shirts, because they were out of all the other sizes.

Race day, everything started well.  There was a really well organized “guardarropa.”  (I don’t know the word for that in English…  Clothes check?)  Anyway, the place where you dump your stuff so you can run.  We took our last pre-race potty stop and headed to the starting line.

Getting our gear checked in. 

From there, things started deteriorating.  There were corrals for runners, and Sara and I had hoped to run.  But there were SO MANY WOMEN we couldn’t.  But silly me, I thought, the crowd will thin out and I will finally get a little bit of my own turf to run on.  Nope.  7.5 Kilometers of wall-to-wall women.  It was beyond frustrating.

Women sharing iPods, er, headphones.  Getting elbowed, pushed, shoved, cut off.  Having my headphones ripped out as I was pushed up against a fence.  Weaving in and out of women who were out there for a joy walk.  Running around 5, 6, 7 women abreast.  Strollers.  Bikes.  Kids!  Lots and lots of kiddos.  Dodging tourists in Sol.  Running around the metal posts that keep cars from going on the street (those things can really jack up your shins!).  And I use the word “running” loosely.  I was going at a glorified walking pace.  I mean, I was swinging my arms as if I were running, but I was mostly not.  I finished 4 minutes shy of my 10K PR.  Not okay.  And this was only 7.5…  As I crossed the finish line (finally!), 4 women literally came to a complete stop in front of me.  Beats the heck out of me as to why.  But I leaped to one side to avoid running INTO them.

Sara and I laugh every time we talk about this race, about what a total fiasco it was.  At least it was something we did together. ;)

With our non-alcoholic beer.

Megan joined us to run this race too.

100 Days of Madrid: Rain, rain, go away…

This week, it has seriously not stopped raining.  Like pouring.  Like soaked to the bone.  Like the umbrella doesn’t do anything.  Like my Toms are now probably ruined (which is probably for the better, because I have been slipping and sliding all over Madrid in them).

This is what I woke up to on Tuesday morning:

Yeah, POURING!  It was, in fact, NOT hailing.  Sure sounded like it though.  And then on Friday, when going to pick up my dorsal for the Carrera de la Mujer, it poured again, and the streets were seriously overflowing…  Check this out.

Anyway, I tried not to let the rain keep me from my list of 100 things.  But it was a bit of a challenge, let me tell you.  All I really wanted to do was stay in the jams and watch The Big Bang Theory…

But here’s this week’s countdown, picking up from last week.

93.  The CaixaForum

This is a museum of sorts, but one where the exhibits change on a very regular basis.  There’s another name for it, but I am drawing a blank.  I went with Chris and we had the immense pleasure of seeing about 30 drawings like this one:

As Chris said, it was like watching a tennis match.  Some guy drew very accurate drawings of famous places in Italy.  It was sort of like Spot the Difference…  Then we moved on to a Russian Ballet exhibit.  Followed by a third one, which was so memorable that I in fact cannot remember what it was.  We spent more time in the gift shop than in the exhibits.  Ha!

There was a cool vertical garden outside.  Or wall garden.  Or something.

92.  El Museo de Artes Decorativas  (The Decorative Arts Museum)

I was told by a friend that this was a must-see museum.  She said it was full of cool furniture!  Silly me, I was definitely thinking more along the lines of IKEA or Pottery Barn.

Lots and lots of plates and stuff…

Clearly my jewelry needs some updating.

Spanish fans.

Baby bed and the wet nurse bed (?).

There was a lot of other furniture, but the beds were lumpy and everything was over the top ornate!  I like simple, clean lines.  And comfy beds.  More like IKEA.

But then I stumbled into this room sponsored by the Red Cross.  This was MUCH more my kind of art.

The caption under this was “We are what we give, and we are also what we receive.”

“Addiction distorts reality, but also one’s own image.”  (My distorted image and me.)

“To construct a fragil and solitary world.  It’s our intimate room.  Almost all of us have fallen into this metaphor.”

“We get closer to the light, from death, overcoming difficulties and climbing the steps we need toward well-being and heath.”

I loved it.  It was amazing.  I love art that makes me think.  And modern art totally does.  And I love it. :)

91.  A Spanish wedding.

As I was heading to the museum, I passed by a wedding that was just ending.  All the guests were outside waiting for the bride and groom to come out.  I wanted to see the novia (bride) so I sort of lurked behind the small crowd, waiting.  Everyone kept turning to look at me, and I looked around and was clearly not the only one who clearly wasn’t part of the wedding.  Then I realized I was standing right in front of the two cars the bride and groom would be leaving in.  Oops.  So I snapped a few pictures and vamoosed.  Apparently, throwing rice isn’t not allowed here.  And the birds were eating it up as I walked by on my way back home.  Poor birds…  Not that I am particularly fond of pigeons.

The church.

Throwing rice and confetti poppers.  The bride and groom were pretty short, so I couldn’t get a good shot.

90.  Madrid Rio

I am not sure how many years ago (a couple, at least), the city of Madrid put a TON of money into re-routing the M-30, a pretty manor freeway, underground, in order to build a beautiful park around the Madrid river, the Manzanares.  It is beautiful– so serene in the city.  I started at Principe Pio and managed to go as far as 2 hours walking took me (a long way!).  It was beautiful.  Even as the clouds rolled in and it poured again…

89.  The Euro-Mullet.

The Euro-Mullet is the single reason I will not let ANYone touch my hair here.  I didn’t get a picture of Mr. Euro-Mullet, but it was real.  Very real.  Not sure how I missed it the first time ’round, but toward the end of our walk along the Rio just before it started to rain (see above), we stopped to get ice cream and when he went to pay (such the gentleman!), it became painfully apparent.  The party in the back sort of creeped up out of his collar.  Nice guy otherwise though.

88.  Taquería Mi Ciudad

Cinco de mayo.  Heck, yes.  And there’s a MEAN little taco place here in Madrid called Mi Ciudad.  Here are the remnants of our little celebration.

All in all, not a bad week! :)  The last one of the week needs its own entry.  Stay tuned.

100 Days of Madrid: The First Week.

So Monday officially began the countdown…  Insane how time flies!  Seems like only yesterday I had forgotten my laptop at LAX, and was counting down the 13 months here in Madrid.  Now only 3 left.  Sheesh.  Hard to believe.

Anyway, it was a bit of a challenge this week to get something done every day.  True confession: I didn’t…  Monday and Tuesday were full of English lessons.  Wednesday, I sort of got back on track by showing a new friend around town (but I won’t get ahead of myself) and Thursday, I was so tired from Wednesday night, that 3 hours in the evening on Pinterest seemed the best choice.  This is why I am doing this little challenge/project to begin with– to avoid evenings like that (not that I didn’t pin some ridiculously AWESOME things though).

100.  Rock’N’Roll Madrid Marathon 10K.

Like I said in my previous post, kicked things off with the 10K.  Good times, good times.

99.  A walking tour of most of Madrid.

At the Expo for the race, I met this guy at one of the booths, who is the brother of the creator of the SPIbelt (seriously, the single most amazing running accessory I have purchased to date).  He’s from Austin, and said he was in town for the next few days after the race (he ran the marathon) and wondered if I could give him some suggestions of things to do.  Oh, could I.  I sent him a very long email about all the wonderful things Madrid had to offer.  When he asked if I was free to show him some of the city myself on Wednesday, I gladly obliged.  I told him we really needed to go to La Latina for tapas and cañas, so from the Puerta de Alcalá, right outside of Retiro park, we started walking.  For whatever reason, I had the dickens of a time getting us there.  I had to ask twice along the way (she types as she covers her face in shame), but I was somewhat relieved when I asked the second set of guys in Lavapies (we were SO CLOSE) and BOTH of them pulled out their iPhones to help show us on our way.  They were both natives, by the way, I just had to point out. ;)  We finally made it to La Latina where we had only ONE tapa (seriously– what was wrong with me?  You don’t have ONE tapa!!!).  That is SO not how you do it, but alas, that’s what we did.  Then we wandered along the Madrid Rio, up through Principe Pio, through Malasaña, along Gran Vía, up through Chueca.  We had to make a stop at EL51 for a few beers (new for me, since I only go there for the sour apple martinis).  And then back up to Retiro.  Phewph!  It was quite a loop, let me tell you.  And sadly no pictures were taken.  I debated not including this little adventure in my 100 due to the lack of digital memories, but you’ll just have to forgive the lack of photos.  We saw some new things I didn’t even know existed.  The UNED library is in the most amazing really old church that I probably never would have seen had we not gotten somewhat perdidos.  It looks so old it doesn’t even fit in with the rest of the old stuff, like simple brick old.  Not too far from the church was a sick sundial about 30 feet tall on the side of a building.  All in all, a great evening.  I didn’t get to bed til about 4, which is oh, so Madrid.  McDonald’s has a sign that says if you are back in before 3am, you’ve really just gone out for dinner.  So it was officially not just dinner (since we hardly had dinner anyway!).  It was a major lástima that he had to leave on Thursday.  I had a really great time (I think he did too).

98.  Riding the C1 bus ALL the way around Madrid.

The C in the name of this bus line stands for Circular.  There are 2 lines– C1 and C2.  Both go in a loop all the way around Madrid.  I got all settled in and then realized that I will have to do it again, as sitting on one side of the bus only let me see out one side.  Duh, Meg.  The trip again solidified what José María (I lived with him and Veronica in Denia in college) said a long while ago: “Madrid realmente es un pueblo.”  (Madrid is really a small town.)  And it totally is!  We went from one stop to another and I couldn’t believe how close together things are that in my mind seem so far apart.

Here are a few pics from the hour and a half I spent on the bus:

Mahou– Spanish beer.

This is my favorite picture of the day.  You can see the bus reflected along the side of the Palacio de Deportes.

 
This guy walked out into the crosswalk and started jugggling (we were at a red light).  Then he literally bounced from one car to the next– he had one leg!!!

Then the skies opened and it POURED!

Wet and freezing to death, but happy as a clam. :)

97.  Museo del Traje.

While looking up all the fantastic things there are to do in this fine city, I stumbled across this museum– all about clothing.  Interesting, I thought.  I Google-mapped how to get there and was off.  I got lost twice and was clearly not dressed for the freezing wind and the drizzle that was coming down (turns out Toms suck at traction on the wet slippy streets of Madrid– I nearly sat right down in a crosswalk while going over one of the white lines).  I was freezing.  I had no feeling in my fingers as I tried to access Google Maps on my phone to figure out where I had gone wrong.  Turns out I was right there and just didn’t know.  The museum itself was okay.  Really dimly lit, which made it hard to even see what was in each of the exhibits.  I was in and out of the permanent exhibit and the temporary one in about 30 minutes.  It was free, so I didn’t really mind.  Don’t think I’ll be going back.  And I wouldn’t necessarily put it on your Madrid must-see list, that’s for sure… ;)

96.  Café Gijón.

This café has so much history, so I was really looking forward to checking it out!  I took my cold and wet and clothing-educated self over for a nice, hot cup of coffee.  I walked into the café and tried to take it all in.  Pretty much all the famous writers of the 19th and early 20th centuries had been here.  But it was so unassuming!  Honestly, it was a lot like a lot of other bars in Madrid.  I sat down and whipped out the menu.  I nearly fell out of my chair.  FOUR EUROS for a cup of coffee!  €4.10, actually.  TRAIN ROBBERY, unless you are at Starbucks.  I thought at least it would be an American sized cup of coffee…  Nope.  Each sip was about a Euro.  Painful.

My plan was to read El Burlador de Sevilla in this café, while soaking up all the great minds who had also spent significant time there, but it really wasn’t conducive to that…  I was going to hit the road when the guy sitting next to me asked me if I was English.  No, American, I told him.  And we ended up sitting for the next hour and a half talking about the exorbitant coffee prices, life abroad, life as a banker (or banking consultant or something– sorry, Lewis, I don’t remember!), drinking, dating, traveling…  It certainly made the whole café visit worthwhile.  Turns out I have a knack for meeting people right before they need to leave.  Bummer!

95.  La Tabacalera.

A couple of weekends, some friends went to this bar for a flamenco show and invited me, but I had a stupid migraine, so I didn’t go.  I didn’t know what I was missing.  But when pictures popped up on Facebook, I began to get a sense of the sheer awesomeness of this place.

I hadn’t seen my friend Chris in WEEKS, so I suggested we hit up this place over the weekend.  (I had brought him back some peanut butter M&M’s.  Here he is pre-Tabacalera enjoying some of ’em.  He was in heaven.  His only comment as he poured himself a handful– “Wow, no artificial coloring in these, that’s for sure!”)

This place has the feel of the LACMA’s newest modern art museum (I went to the opening with my friend Laura last summer– so totally cool) meets the Brewery Art Colony in Los Angeles.  Chris and I walked around with our jaws on the floor.  Chris kept saying that he couldn’t really pin down the place.  Understatement of the evening.  It was part Dogtown (that movie about the skateboarding) slash art studio slash art in and of itself slash African drum ring room slash place to smoke weed slash junkyard slash…  I probably should stop.  You get the idea.  And here are some pictures to back up my attempt to explain.

No risk, no fun!  My new life mantra.

Spray paint anyone?

Lots and lots of junk.  One man’s trash…

94.  Run at Retiro Park. 

The longer I live here, the more I fall in love with this park.  Number one: it’s huge.  I ran a loop today around the outside and I saw things I have never seen before (and I have spent significant time in this park!).  Ran past the only standing statue of Satan (I ran with Chris once and said, we are coming up to Satan, to which he replied, are you having a vision?  I laugh every time I pass it).  The park was beautiful too.  It was sort of chilly, but the sun was warm and since I was dressed for chilly, the shade was delicious, too.  It was perfect.  And a fast loop.  I am always amazed at how clearing running is for me.  Running just clears the fog in a way that little else can really do.  And I have been pretty foggy of late.  But man, I start pounding the pavement, and suddenly it doesn’t really matter.  Everything fades away and it’s me and the music and my breathing and the wind whipping in my face.

Today was a great day.  Running this morning.  Rain all afternoon.  Chai tea latte and blogging and reading of El Burlador de Sevilla at Faborit (one of my favorite cafés).  All in all, not too shabby.

The ‘100 Days of Madrid’ Project Begins

Today marks the “100 days to go” mark here in Madrid.  Total insanity.  Totally bittersweet.

So to make sure that I am truly making the most of my time here, the plan is to do something totally and quintessentially Madrid every day til the day I go back to LA, whether it’s reading in a new plaza, having coffee at a new café, going to a new museum, or doing something that I simply can’t do in LA, like bike riding through Casa de Campo or Sunday afternoon strolling through Retiro.

Here are the stipulations:

• I need to do something new every day.
• I must take a picture.
• I cannot repeat anything that has already been done within these 100 days (but I can do something that I have already done here in Madrid, like the Rastro or the Prado).
• I must blog it and post the picture(s).

Suggestions?  Want to join me, fellow Madrileños?  Let’s get this party started! :)

100.  Rock ‘n’ Roll Madrid 10K.  See yesterday’s post.

Why I run.

Post-Race.  Tired and sore… but still smiling! :)

Today, I ran my first race of 2012.  I have hardly run at all since the New Years and let me tell you, I feel like I have been broadsided by a bus.  I feel like I did after my very first race…  (Depressing!)  Everything hurts.  Normal movements make me aware of muscles I didn’t even know existed (and tomorrow it’s going to be worse…).  But the crazy thing– I love it.  This feeling does not make me want to quit running, but push harder, train harder, work harder.  Because I can.  I know I am capable of more, more speed more distance more discipline.  And I want it.

So why do I run?

Honestly, I run for the high.  There is nothing quite like runners’ high, and you can’t get it any other way.  So I work my body into submission for the release, for the endorphin explosion that I know awaits me at the finish line (or the end of a great run!).

I run to sweat.  It’s like a free, natural trophy of hard work.

I run to work out my issues.  There is nothing better than being frustrated and pounding out the frustration on the pavement.  So rewarding.  So freeing.

Today as I was running and my hip flexors were screaming at me to stop, I remembered something Molly had told me as we were climbing mad stairs in the metro (she refused to take the escalators while she was here.  And some of those metros are waaaay underground…).  She said, when climbing stairs, don’t look up, just look at the next step and next thing you know, you’ll be at the top.  She was right.  I didn’t need to know how many were left, just that I had gotten up the next one and the next one and the next one.  At kilometer 7, as I looked ahead at the sea of people in front of me, the people passing me, and started counting the minutes to the end I let my gaze fall to the ground in front of me.  I said to myself, ‘Meg, you don’t have to do anything else except put your foot right there in front of you.  And there and there and there.’  And sure enough, by worrying just about the next step, I found myself picking up the pace a little, not hurting as much.  (I know it was hardly a marathon I was running– that was my amazing friend Sara who did it in 4:16!!!!, but it was far enough that with no preparation, I was hurtin’!)

And this is so where I am in life right now.  As of tomorrow, I have 100 days left in Madrid, and it is a mini finish line of sorts.  And right now, all I can do is put one foot in front of the other right now and finish strong.  I plan to take complete advantage of these days and do something different everyday (more on that later), but the next steps beyond these 100 days, beyond July 31st, are completely unknown to me.  All I know right now is that I will be back in LA.  Doing what, you ask?  Well, darned if I know.

But what I realized today while running and hurting and wishing I had just slept in is that I don’t NEED to know what the next step is beyond the one I am taking.  Much like looking ahead in the race is daunting and defeating, I just need to focus on where my feet are now.  If I knew where I was headed, I might tuck my tail between my legs and head in the other direction.  If I knew, I would miss out on all that life has to offer me here, now.  I can worry about life in LA when there is a life in LA to worry about.  Right now, the only life I have is in Madrid.

It was a very enlightening run to say the very least.  I didn’t set any personal records or feel particularly awesome about my performance, but I went out and did the best I could.  That best was 1:10:22.  Not my best time ever, but I did my best.  Which is all we can ever really do, right?

With the marathoner extraordinaire!!!

Top 5 Madrid: LA Edition

For Spring Break, I went back to the States under the pretense of job interviews.  Unfortunately, it would seem that Spring Break fell a little too early and since I had already purchased my tickets, I decided the week would be one of rest and relax. :)  And it fell nothing short of my expectations.  I really love Los Angeles.  For oh so many reasons.

So here’s what happened while I was home, in no particular order.

1.  My hair.

Let’s just say that I have not been blessed with the best hair ever…  And when a person with scissors stands behind me and this hair and attempts to do something with it, it’s a gamble. Every.single.time.  And then I found Cait.  I met her for the first time at the Paul Mitchell School in Thousand Oaks.  And let’s just say that after years of searching high and low in LA for someone awesome to tame these locks, I have found her.  And no one else will touch this hair as long as she’s around (even if it means flying back from Madrid and driving to Sherman Oaks if that’s what it takes to see this fabulous gal).  I mean, look at the evidence! :)

2. My padres.

I love these guys.  I have always had a pretty fabulous relationship with the ‘rents, but since I have grown up and moved out, things have gotten even better.  They are the bomb.  While I was home this time, we went to see Dave Ramsey.  He’s a money GENIUS.  Though I was quite disappointed with the whole thing, but whatevs.  It was cool to be in the money guru’s presence.  Here we are being reminded to pay with cash, keep our emergency funds funded and cut up our credit cards.

Love them. :)

3. A little shopping.  Wearing heels.

Shopping in Spain is great, not going to lie, but sometimes a girl just needs her Marshall’s, Ross and Nordstrom Rack fix.   I found some great stuff, too.  I brought home all my bulky winter stuff and brought back some fab spring/summer clothes, only to have winter return to Madrid.  I am like an onion here now– layers…  But when it gets warm in these parts, look out– the wardrobe will get broken in.  :)

As far as shoes with ANY kind of altitude are concerned here, I don’t even go there.  I have nearly twisted my ankle in flats.  Women that wear heels here are on the arm of a man.  Not joking.  You gotta have someone to catch you when walking on the uneven streets of Madrid.  I wore a pair of wedges a couple of days when I was home, and I am pretty sure that all the time not wearing flats here has jacked up my feet.  I am going to have to retrain them to some height when I get back…  I mean, look at these beauties I have waiting for me. ;)

(Though these might still require a man, just in case.  Haha!)

4.  SUSHI.  And other delicious things, like Yogurtland!

I have a somewhat bizarre relationship with sushi.  I love it.  Like seriously, I would eat sushi every day if I could.  Traditionally, I would only eat sushi with swimmy, scaly fish, but since living in Spain, and having Angel’s amazing fideuá more than once, I am developing a taste for sea food, for all those bottom feeders.  So when we were home, my ONLY request was to get some sushi.  And it did not disappoint.  We went to the best sushi place in Orange County called Riptide.  It was amazing.  The rolls were so different from anything I have ever had, but surprising and delicious.

This picture really does not do those rolls justice.

It totally satiated my sushi craving for a while.  (Sushi here in Madrid is like €2-3 A PIECE, not a roll…  NOT okay…  I am so looking forward to hitting up that sushi place in Brentwood, too, where sushi is cheap but divine and Happy Hour is every night from like 5-9.  Heaven.)

And Yogurtland.  I pretty much feel that it doesn’t even need any commentary.  Love me some Yogurtland.

5.  Seeing friends.

There is nothing like seeing friends again.  Nothing so awesome as realizing that some relationships really don’t change despite time and distance. :)  From delicious Pinterest’d dinners at home to a comedy show to shopping to hanging with my favorite 3 year old, it was just really great to be back.

Los Angeles, I will be back.  But in the mean time, I am trying to make the most of Madrid.
Stay tuned for the continued Madrid adventure. :)
Next series: 100 Days of Madrid.