Oh, holy hell. This is a busy week. I find myself unexpectedly running a marathon in <100 days, and, well, I was not going to do another domestic marathon. Not because I have no desire to run 26.2, I do. I love running for extra-long distances. I’ve just never been in love with the race. When I run, I’m competing with exactly one person.
The next mary I wanted to run was either Sweden’s Vintermarathon or the Shangri-La ultra. I’ve heard that destination marathons really revive your love of the race. While Boston is 4 hours away, it’s an academic town, so it’s really lost its destination feeling for me. Also, while I’ve always wanted Boston, I’m running for charity (Connective Tissue Diseases Research–I’ll do a post on the exact charities it benefits at a later date…because, LONG) it feels like I’m cheating by not racing my way into it.

^I really only compete against that strange ranger.
Also, I’m a fairly solitary individual–if you don’t count family and wolfpack–so all those thousands of people in one place, doing one thing? yikes. But, so many people in my family have been affected by Loeys-Dietz Syndrome, and damn, for a long time I was told “you could probably…maybe…have it.” Before a genetic test proved I did not, it was like the sword of Damocles hanging over my head. LD took my aunt Bonnie on a morning she was to babysit me and my sister. It took my PawPaw when my mother was just 16. My uncle had more than one open-heart surgery. My cousin, only 2.5 years my senior, has already had open-heart surgery. (Don’t worry, she kicked its ass, and birthed the latest ginger in my family! Oh wait, you want a picture? Oh don’t worry…)
(my arm is flattened against the sofa awkwardly. ignore that bit. focus on the baby.)
So I will run, because they can’t.
Alas, I rose this morning at a startlingly early 4:30 am to run 12 miles, (2-split on each end of which would be walked as a warm and cool–and stop at Dunkin) and it was RAINING ICE. So I’m doing my now 11 miles indoors tonight. I follow a similar plan to the popular Hal Higdon advanced plan, but with a few more miles tacked on to the lower weeks because my brain cannot settle without them. Sometimes I opt for the elliptical for those miles or rowing if weather permits. I also run my weeks a day later because Sunday evening Crossfit is my JAM.
We take tea after the WOD. I use real milk. However, I also use honey…which they’re pale-a-ok with me doing. Not that they judge my grain addiction, they just totally judge my grain addiction.
So, what does that make my week?
Today 10 or 11 mi
Tue 4 miles plus Crossfit
Weds 6 miles and yoga
Thurs LT run
Fri 3 miles and Crossfit
Sat naptime and books and coffee
Sun 5-6 miles plus yoga butt workout and Crossfit
Sometime in there I’ll also continue making up more recipes for you scamps! Thankfully, I made this recipe shortly before the Navajo told me, “Our team is down a runner and you’re now it. The race is on your birthday. You’re welcome.” He’s lucky he’s my zen master, or I’d have been mighty cheesed about being conscripted into a marathon.
The recipe to which I’m referring?
Oh, just some BANANA COCONUT BLONDIES.
Anything with browned butter and coconut really gets my engine going. I mostly added banana because the Peanut loves banana. It was an inspired idea by the three year old, because HOLY MOIST COWS!
Banana Coconut Blondies
Prep Time: 15 minutes
Cook Time: 25 minutes
Keywords: bake appetizer bread breakfast dessert snack
Ingredients (16 bars)
- 1/2 cup butter
- 1 1/2 cup brown sugar
- 2 eggs
- 1 overripe banana
- 1/2 cup sweetened flaked coconut
- 1 tsp vanilla extract
- 1 cup flour
Instructions
preheat oven to 350F
cook the butter on the stovetop until it begins to turn brown
remove from heat and pour over brown sugar in a separate mixing bowl
stir until combined
add in the banana and mash
stir in the eggs and vanilla
stir in the flour until just combined
pour into a 9″-9″ square pan
cover the pan with foil and bake 15 minutes
remove foil
bake ten more minutes or until the center is no longer jiggly.
cool 10 minutes before cutting.
10 thoughts on “I Take Tea with My Jam”