Pepper burns, milk hands, run scars

Last night was one of the more eventful nights in our humble household in North Sydney.

It started off really well.

I had a good day at work. I found some beautiful mushrooms at the local grocer's near work, and I came home to make this beautiful, healthful and delicious meal:

A giant mushroom cap was our "burger". Steven and I split the burger bun, because we're not so much into the carbs, and we topped it with cheese, thinly sliced red onions, lettuce, and avocados.

I made green bean fries on the side.

I also decided to make that beautiful red tomato salsa, bottom right. We had fresh baby tomatoes, so I wanted to do them in a way that brought out their sweetness.

Just for kicks, I cut up a little chili pepper to add some heat.

Halfway through dinner, my left hand is tingling and I don't know why. I do the dishes, return to the table, and before I know it, I've got full out burning in my left hand.

It felt like I was being pierced with flaming hot machetes, and that my hand would at any moment fall off.

Google told me to try a bunch of things: ketchup, milk, lime, hand lotion, soap.

Milk hands worked for a bit, but the burning came back.

I think I really sealed my fate by washing my hands in warm water after making dinner. The water probably opened my pores, let in all those capsacin devils, and they drilled deep down in the layers of my epidermis like microscopic hedge-hogs from hell.

Eventually, I got too tired to try any more goop on my poor macerated hand and fell asleep.

About 3 AM, I woke to no pain, and thought, "Huh. Guess it went away." And went back to sleep.

The next morning was hard.

Running low on sleep, my eyes burning from contact with my hands and my contact lenses, I had zero focus and barely got through the sun salutations that start off every Ashtanga practice.

Eventually, I crawled back into bed and slept in.

It was just one of those days.

Luckily, today is a Wednesday. That means Bay Run. I was looking forward to this all day long.

This is how we get pumped up for 7K of awesomeness: Harlem shake (or epileptic fit)?

I put in a really decent run, especially with all the hills I've been training on in my 'hood.

Plus, we had this guy join our group today. Great energy, but the collapsing half-way is something he really needs to work on with his coach.

Incidentally, this also happened:

My second official running war wound!! (My first is a sports bra chafe that you don't need to see or know about.)

I tripped on a dark patch of pavement and fell!

I THINK I'M OFFICIALLY A RUNNER NOW!

Stats:
32:24 min
3.18 miles
10:11 min/mile

Taking the week off

Last week, after my long-ish run, I felt quite a bit of pain in my knees. It got worse and worse as the days went on, and by Tuesday's Ashtanga, I was really sore in my knees even standing and sitting.

So I've pushed the big red "STOP" button.

It's time to take some time off.

It's been hard, especially since I've been getting fat off of all this delicious fall harvest food, like roasted squash (of all varieties), kale and those super crisp apples.

Mmm...

My breakfasts have been more kale than eggs lately, but that's fine with me. I like kale!

I'm really looking forward to running again, and working on my mileage.

Alas, until they invent bionic knees then I'll be sitting on the couch, watching trash TV and eating apples (and donuts).

Yoga Burnout?

I woke up yesterday and I didn't want to do yoga.

For me, that is weird.

WEIRD. 

I almost always want to do yoga--I love it as much as I love eating.

More and more often, I'm second guessing what I'm doing with my life. There is no job security with teaching yoga, no benefits, no ladders to climb or advance. You work to be a better and better teacher, but you don't really know if you're doing "life" right.

Luckily, I came downstairs and I saw this:

So I felt better about my life.

Yoga is really the only job that lets me spend tons of time with her, with my running, with my yoga, with all the people I love and all the activities I can't bear to live without.

And it gives me tons of time to do my second favourite thing in the whole wide world...

Eat:

Tonight, we went to one of my favorite vegetarian restaurants. 

Everything is vegetarian, even the sushi!

It's Buddhist vegetarian, which means everything is garlic and onion-free.

I don't get it either, so don't ask me.

After dinner, we went to Yogen Fruz, the classic "mall-frozen-yogurt-place".  I found one north of the city that's eat-in, so we had to visit, especially with the warm days of summer nearly behind us.

Bad news, they were closing when we walked in.

Good news, Randy, the nicest owner ever, said he'd make us froyo anyway.

FROYO FTW!

Bad news, he ran out of mochi balls.

This is Steven's sad face. Zero mochi balls.

My "no-mochi-ball" face was more like "falling-to-my-knees-screaming-WHYYY-DO-YOU-HATE-ME-WORLD" face.

Dramatic? ME? Nevah.

Yogen Fruz has superior yogurt. Hands down.

Real fruit.

No ice chunks.

And it doesn't melt into pools of sweetened water.

Now if only we had mochi balls.

Randy, make the mochi balls happen.