The Daily EO: April 26th, 2012

It’s race weekend!  Off we head to St. Catharines to participate in the annual Chocolate Race.  No ordinary race for us.  No sirree!  I mean, if you are going to run, then you should pick the shortest distance available that also serves chocolate at the water stations, don’t you think?  And then serves post race chocolate?    I’m proud of how far Emile has come in just one month.  He will be able to beat his personal best and run the entire race I am sure.  I’m going to be dragging a bit, but nonetheless, I can run about 500% further than I used to – so an accomplishment regardless if I can run the entire 5K.  We both have targets we are hoping to beat, so we’ll see how much chocolate drags our butts back!

About 12 or 15 years ago, my friend Mark and I had the same late 80s navy blue Honda Accord.  (though mine was a standard – even more fun to drive)  We both loved our cars – so well-built, so reliable and so easy to drive.  And with 4 doors, great for moving people and things.  I drove mine across the country and back, he drove his back and forth between British Columbia and Alberta.  Mine helped me move 8 times in 2 1/2 years while I earned my MBA at McMaster.  But Mark drove his further than I ever got.  So much in fact, that one day we were all treated to an amazing email.  And I was sure I kept it, but there is no record in my mail.  Nonetheless, I remember it well.  It was a picture of his odometer and trip meter:

Odometer: 333333.3
Trip Meter:  333.3

The text told us all that this “miraculous event” took place in some mall parking lot in Edmonton (can’t you see him driving around in circles, then yelling “Stop!” at just the right moment?).  And that car kept going beyond that.  Mine eventually died from electrical problems – the battery kept draining for reasons unknown to anyone.  Mark’s. . . I am not sure what happened to Mark’s, but I know it got him far, but only so far.

In my most recent Honda – a 2007 Honda Fit – I’ve only had cause to drive it across Ontario.  St. Catharines, Toronto and I swear that thing could drive from Midland to Huntsville by itself.  When Emile and I are together, we always drive the Fit to save the 1996 Honda Prelude SLR that is on its last wheels.  Today we celebrate a little milestone on our trip to St. Catharines, silly as it might be.  I like silly.

April 26th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  I only wish I could have lined up the Trip Meter:


 

The Daily EO: April 13th, 2012

Today I binged.  No, I didn’t bing.  I binge-d.

I was at the grocery store and I noticed that Cadbury Mini Eggs were on sale for $.49.  I love Cadbury Mini Eggs.  I picked up the package of the eggs and noted that each package (which are getting smaller and smaller) had 180 calories.  Considering now I can eat only 793 calories a day (if I don’t exercise), that is a significant portion of my daily intake.

I had a couple of choices:  I could skip on by without buying, smugly noting my extraordinary willpower.  I could buy one package and share it with Emile when he got home from work (thinking the divvying up would have been a little lopsided).  I could buy a package, take a run, then eat them all.  I could buy two packages, take a loooong run, then eat them all.

In November 2007, I contracted tonsilitis.  It started Monday am while I was at work.  I just didn’t feel good, and I knew in my bones that I was really sick.  Not a flu, not a cold, but sick.  Emile was not a supportive as he could be at first – while at least that is how my illness addled mind remembers it.  It wasn’t until I went to the emergency room on Tuesday at 2 am because I thought my throat was going to close up, that he understood how sick I was.  The doctor on duty immediately diagnosed tonsilitis and prescribed medication.  He told me to stay away from people, sleep, eat and drink when I could, and avoid caffeine.  At that point I was addicted to both caffeine and diet coke.  I couldn’t get rolling in the morning without the hit and I would drink up to 4 or 5 cans of diet cola a day.  As I couldn’t possibly imagine feeling any worse than I did, I decided to stop caffeine and diet coke right then and there.  The headaches and irritability were nothing compared to the tonsilitis.

And since then, I have not drank a Diet Coke and generally I drink decaf tea.  (although while I write this, Emile is making me Earl Grey full-bore tea).  There is two exceptions to this:  When we were in Europe, I wanted to try Coke Light and see how that differed from Diet Coke.  (I had a sip of Emile’s)  And once someone complained about the Diet Coke when I was serving, so I took a sip to try to figure out what the problem was.  In its place, I drink tea, soda water, water, or sometimes other diet drinks.

So, faced with the flaming desire to eat Mini Eggs until I was sick, I instead headed to the pop aisle.  I bought a 2 litre of A&W Diet Root Beer.  And I drank it all in 4 hours.  Yes, 2 litres of Diet Root Beer.  (Well, that is a lie for a better story.  There is in fact 1 glass remaining).  Sugary sweetness.  Carbonated goodness.  As I lay there bloated, burping and well . ..  honestly a little out the other end too . .*blush*,  I felt pretty good.

April 13th 2012 Extra-Ordinary:   Afterall, I didn’t buy those damn Cadbury Mini Eggs.

The Daily EO: April 9th, 2012

I tend to stay clothed in most situations.  I am not one of those people who think nudity is natural.  Nudists make me feel uncomfortable.  I don’t really want to see much more than your limbs, face and perhaps chest.  Please leave your clothes on, and I will leave mine on for you.  Think of it as proper etiquette.

Today I got the most amazing massage.  Unlike most of the massages I have received in the past, this one was earned.  My aching hips, my poor thighs, my screaming calves.  And apparently my shoulders and lower back also were tight with knots.  (these knots were discovered after a gut wrenching traverse across my back).  My therapist wondered what was going on.  I explained Damn You Fit April and noted I the extra exercise recently.

I like the ritual of massage – the therapist leaves, you take off your clothes save your underwear and leap under the blanket.  The therapist then knocks, enters the room and proceeds to massage you with only one body part visible at a time.  Half way through, the therapist lifts the blanket covering their face so you can flip over.  It works well.  No full nudity needed.

After I was safely clothed again, I paid (ha ha!  Take that Emile’s company!!).   And slowly returned out to my car focused only on how much better my body felt.   Word of advice, don’t wear short sleeves for a massage overwise you get oil all over the inside of your coat.  And don’t plan anything except home after a massage as your hair looks like you’re a silly girl who grew up in the suburbs who has decided to grow deadlocks to make some sort of statement about government and corporate pigs ruining the world.

April 9th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  “You’re looking good.”  from the objective person in your life who sees you almost naked regularly.  Yeah You Fit April!

The Daily EO: April 8th, 2012

I ate something today that should not exist.  It is against the universe.

Do you remember in that movie . . what was it. . . well, never mind.  I don’t think it got 2 thumbs up.  It doesn’t matter.  Anyways, Rosie O’Donnell – who is friends with Uma Therman (in the movie, I don’t really know about Uma and Rosie in real life, that also is not material to this post) – enters a convenience store.  Uma has just left the store and the clerks are ogling her.  Rosie goes on a rant about how it is against nature to have big breasts and a small frame.  She rants on while shaking some playboy magazines or such and screaming “Big Boobs = Big Butt.  That is the way it works!”

Anyways, the scene was something like that.  I liked it.  I took it to heart.  I’ve used the concept it many times over the years to get over stuff.   Smart = Not gorgeous.   Cheap = Short Life.   Glorious 1969 Barracuda = Gas Guzzler.   Artist = Tortured.   Fresh White Bread = Calories.   It’s the way of the universe.   Parents use it all the time to cheer up sad children.  (“Little Johnny, I know that you are terrible at sports, but you are great at math.  Everyone can’t be good at everything, honey.  You’ll see – that’s why I put up with your father.”)  It is a construct that we use to make sense of an unfair world.

Well, today I ate Tofu Shirataki Angel Hair Shaped Noodles.  What is this?  Well, it is noodles made with tofu and yam flour.  It comes a sealed bag with the noodles floating in liquid (presumably water).  We used it for our Annual Easter Pad Thai dish.  Nothing says easter like Pad Thai.  We have tried many iterations to reduce the calories of Pad Thai, the problem is that white rice noodles are high in calories and do not fit in Damn You Fit April.  Low Carb pasta is pretty good but the calorie count is high still.  The broccoli slaw worked okay, but kinda made Pad Thai into a vegetable stirfry.

This product contains no GMOs (genetically modified organics), no cholesterol, little to no fat, no preservatives, is gluten-free, is vegan, has only 1 net carb (for those of you who know what the means), 2 grams of fiber and 1 gram of protein.  You can get in macaroni noodles and other shapes.  It is reasonably priced – 226 for $2.  And the kicker??  It has only 20 calories per serving.  And the serving was normal sized: 113 g.  You could eat 5 servings and only 100 calories (that is only 10 minutes of running people!).

Don’t you hate those types of products that tell you the serving size is something like 58% of the package?  Really?  Like I am going to buy a “single” serving Iced Tea bottle and only drink 3/8 of the bottle and then put it in the fridge for tomorrow.  Nobody does that.  And if you do, I don’t want to hear about it.    I digress.

But back to this seemingly miracle food.  What is the price?  What is the trade-off?  The universe must balance out.

Well, the package does have the ominous directions of “Boil for 2-3 minutes (or microwave for 1 min) to reduce the authentic aroma”.   Huh?  And this is true, it smelled like Shrimp Mr. Noodles.  But, after draining, rinsing and microwaving for 1 minute, the smell had dissipated.  Then noodles looked fragile, they will probably fall apart in the stir frying process.  Nope, they stayed true to form.  Surely, they will taste weird.  Nope, tasted pretty much like noodles.  Do little children work to their fingers bleed to make these?  Are they cutting down the rain forest to plant soy beans?  Do I want to know?

April 8th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  The best Easter Pad Thai yet.  Nervously waiting for the universe construct to right itself.  And don’t even get me started on the PB2 powder sprinkled on top of the Pad Thai used in place of the peanuts.