Grocery Guidelines By P

It’s the end of the week which means, I’ll be looking into my fridge and taking note on what to buy this weekend at the grocery store. I love to shop for food, almost as much as I like to eat it. So here are some of my grocery shopping habits and rules, i've adopted over the years.

Go to the grocery store a few times a week

If you can manage it buy your meats the same day you are going to have it for dinner, or a day or two later. I love to buy my fish fresh from the counter and have it that same night. I also try to pick up a side of vegetables for a fresh salad mix.

Try a new fruit or vegetable each week

Try bok choy or kale instead of spinach. Bake a yam instead of a potato, or try a medley of berries in lieu of the typical apple. Break up the monotony of the same old foods and experiment with tastes.

Shop on the Periphery
As your eating becomes healthier you will be inclined to do the majority of your shopping on the outskirts of any grocery store. There you find the whole foods, and the best sources of nutrients that the body needs. I venture into the aisle only if I need oatmeal, (or I'm feeling weak). Everything in the center is packaged, low nutrient “food-like” items IMO.

The Cart: Our First Line of Defense
This week I pigged out on a whole bag of Pita chips (regrettably). They were on sale for $2 and normally they cost $4.48 at the Walmart. I put it in the cart lured by the deal, all the while knowing I should not bring this home.




So if you don’t want to be tempted by an item, do not even bring it into your home. (Instead open the package in the clothing aisle and eat a few helpings before you leave. Upon reaching satiety, walk away).

Fat free? So What
I used to buy “fat free” and “low fat” everything: milk, cottage cheese, yogurt, thinking it was better for me. Or that I could eat more of whatever it was that had “25%!” less fat. Not true. Fat free usually means more of something else, namely sugars. So because an item is lower in fat, doesn’t mean it is good for your body or a superior product.




Read It
Before I bring any item into my home, I check to see if I should give it that privilege by reading the label. I take note of the small print as if reading a contract. An agreement between this block of Havarti cheese and I! It promises to provide me with the best and I promise to eat it.




But really learn to read the nutrition information for a product, so you can compare and understand what you are getting.

And Rule of thumb I heard a long time ago: If you can’t pronounce it—-don't eat it!

Happy Shopping,
Perdita

BRR it's Chilly Outside and In

My training a partner and I are some G's going outside in wet, driving rain today. We warmed up inside, then went outside to run some hills.

Today unfortunately also warranted an ice bath. Not so bad in July when its hot and sunny. But extremely hard to do on cold and wet days like today.

Today reminded me of this pic below:



Clearly this is for the insane.
Ciao,
Perdita

HAPPY VETERAN'S DAY!!

Here's to honoring fallen heroes and those that presently keep us safe, and preserve our freedom.

500 Report

This week was my first week back here at base and I didn't know quite what to expect. Looking back the week was magic and I worked my tail off.

If you read the last post, you know I had to tackle hills for the second time this week on Friday. With most of them being 300m long, and one being a 500m hill! Which I have never done.

Friday morning all I could think about was that 500m hill. My training partner doesn't start until next week, so I had to go at it alone. But I brought mental toughness to the session and summoned my inner Paula Radcliffe.

"W.W.P.D ...What would Paula do?”

"H.W.P.B.I...How Would Paul Bring it?”

Were my thoughts as I stood at the base of the hill, as Coach 'Gdub moved pine cones and branches out of my path and reminded me of the route.

My fast twitch muscle fibers were screaming: "We don't have to do this".

I took off, with a steady, confident pace. Remembering what BF said on the phone the night before. Something silly like he always says 'You break that hill, it don't break you!'. It had me chuckling on the line then, but oddly I wasn't grinning teeth now.

I checked my breathing at 150m, and liked the steadiness of it. At 200m it was all good. In fact I felt like a really sexy cross country runner with thick thighs, who happens to hurdle fast on the side.

At 250m I took a right, down the slope and past the maple trees, wishing someone had a video camera, all this elk like gracefulness I was exhibiting, going undocumented.

Waste.

At 300m I contemplated switching from the 100m hurdles to the 3000m steeple chase. Stride so flawless, poetry in motion.

Really, "Had I been in the wrong event all this time? Had I only at 28 now found my calling, my best track event?"

At 399m I got my answer.

It came in the form of a sudden surge of heaviness in my buttocks. Fire invading my lungs, and cold teeth from a mouth gone ajar and sucking air.

“Ahh Dayum”.

I heard Gdub yell out my 400m split. After nearly a decade together, I knew the tone of his voice meant he was OK with this split.

At 415m with only incline left, my mind was flooded with incoherent thoughts: "What is this bring, the hill is breaking me, “P.I.N.T”: Paula I need thee!".

Gdub noticed my abrupt change of pace, the antithesis of runner’s high: spontaneous lactic acid dementia.

He snapped me out of it with a sympathetic shout: “Perdi use your arms, let your arms carry you up the hill!”

I swear an hour later I made it to the top. That final 90m took so long, that I heard nothing from Gdub during it. To encourage me or shout instructions at that point would have been a mockery.

Can't wait to do it all over again next Friday.

Go me!
Perdita

Guess Who’s Back
Man it feels like ages since I’ve blogged. But I have been a busy girl, moving back to my training base last weekend.

I drove my car back and was on record pace for the ten hour drive, based on traffic and no stops. However I was stopped at customs and searched all because my part of an entry document on my visa was MIA.

I looked at the officer and pleaded with my eyes “I haven’t needed this thing in eight months are you really gonna seize me, guy?”.

Buddy sure did.

So I obediently drove my Subaru to parking spot #2.

What’s In A Purse?
I have a massively big purse. I left my vehicle unlocked but took it with me. Big mistake.

This officer with whiskers coming out of his nose (that were long enough to blow in the wind, no lie!) aggressively approached my person demanding where I was going with “that!”.

“Umm?!…I want to know what you guys are gonna do with a bag full of Red Bulls, Vanilla flavoured Bonne Bell lip gloss, and box of flat bread?”

But rather, I threw the cumbersome thing in the back seat. And left them to spill its contents and hope dude found my tweezers, and got a clue.

It’s Me!
Once inside I felt criminal, though guilty of nothing. So I was much pleased while being processed, two men beside me, who were also being processed overheard me explaining, where I live and what I do for a living. Suddenly one of them exclaimed: “I knew it! Perdita we love you!”.



Jackpot!









I winked at officer Johnson. “You see that big boy?--Now Chop-Chop!”.

Then I flashed my signature smile at the men and politely said “Thanks guys”.

















Neighbours Gone Wild
Seven hours and one stop later I was back to my house in Illinois. I found a car in the driveway, so I parked on the street and stayed up waiting for someone to come retrieve their car. I was much to tired from the drive to ring door bells to ask who owned what had to be a 1990’s Celebrity.

Evidently the neighbours were pimping my property as a parking spot. In eight months they had figured out a pyramid system for who got to use it. I was back and they didn't expect me, like a thief in the night.

The gig is up people!

I know this because my training partner lives across the street and had the same woes when she went to Europe to race this summer.


Siphoning H2O
I also found strange hoses hooked up to my front and back water spickets that were not leading to my front and back lawns.

Like really, who steals other peoples water.

Amber Alert For Tree?
As well I have a small tree in my backyard, well I did. It is gone. Yes, my tree is missing and I sure didn't take it with me to Canada when I left.

The nerve of some people, I should go to the home owner's association. My neighbourhood is very safe, but they sure are trifling!

Training
This week we jumped right back into things, no rest or mercy for the weary. Which is part of the reason I didn’t get a chance to up date sooner. I am layed out on the couch by the time I get back from training. Fingers too weak to type, or even open my front door. I find my self rationing energy for the next day.

Tuesday Hills


But I am glad to be back, the focus is better here and so is the quality of each session. The most intense part of Autumn training will be doing hill workouts twice a week. Normally we only run hills on Fridays, 300m long, 6-7 times.

Now I have them on Tuesdays too. Shorter, yes—-but on a Tuesday?! Dude thats sacrilege, can a sista get an ab circuit?!

My butt was burning so much at the end of this past Tuesday’s hill runs, that I wanted a golf cart to take me the near distance to the car. As well have someone drive me home, since I wasn’t sure I could press my car’s clutch.

Friday Hills
And for Friday, imagine my shock when I see a hill run that is 500m long. I have no clue what 500m looks like, where it starts, where it ends, why people use that distance…blah blah blah.

The longest I have ever run was a 400m in 2001 as a freshman and it was the ugliest thing anyone that day had ever seen. It was for testing and the girls on the team can atest to how bad I rigged up at the 250m mark. After that coach never subjected my body to anything more than 300m.

Plus I am certain it embarrassed him.

So what is this 500m thing about? Does he want me to shame him again? Because I am all about the seven-year shame. Not deliberately or out of spite, but by genetic make-up default.

Remember?!

Sigh.
I may complain, I may challenge, but at the end of the day I always do what I am told, and I always do it 100%. So 500m hill here I come…


…like a lamb to the slaughter,
Perdita

History Is Made!

CONGRATULATIONS BARACK OBAMA!!

A historic night for African Americans and America as a nation. My heart smiles at the milestone and the inspiration he is to me and many others.

I cannot vote, but I have lived for nine years in Illinois and I feel like this truly is a wonderful day in human history: Barack Obama 43rd President of the United States and leader of the free world!

Loving it,
Perdita

To Trick or to Treat?

Of Halloweens Past
I used to love Halloween as a kid, though it conflicted with my Sunday School upbringing. (I will never forgive mother for buying me a plastic costume in grade one from Bargain Harold's. I was the devil. And the mask was plastic and stunk of chemicals, with the tiniest holes for sight and breathing).

Nevertheless I just adored the candy, (still do).
My brother would go trick or treating all hours of the night going to countless neighbourhoods, and coming back home with trash bags full of candy.

My sisters and I were much to young and were only allowed to go to the houses around our block. Our candy would last a week or two at best.

Brother Sam's would last for months. But he always hid the garbage bags in the basement where his room was. We would take shifts uprooting the basement and his room, but could never find it.








Our only luck came one year when he carelessly left the bag under the stairs in the open. But by then it was full of reject candy. You know the kind, Kerr's toffee in the black and orange wrapper, Rockets, or the cheap people who gave home made candy apples...Why?






...Beware of house number 1437!



Halloween of Today
I went to the grocery store to see what I would give the kiddies and I saw a bag of assorted candies cost $11.99!

Oh hell to the naw.

I refused to pay that much for people's children to rot their teeth. Plus it goes against my code of good eating lately, why should I be the only one chewing on a carrot stick.

So I decided to buy a bag of assorted vegetables, i.e brussel sprouts, yellow zucchini and red potatoes. Much more nutritious and the whole batch cost less than $1.99/pound.

So when the goblins and ghost show up at my door talking about "Trick or Treat", Ill gladly do both, and trick them with treats chalked full of vitamins and antioxidants!

How 1,500 plus inmates in the Philippines prepare for Fright Night





Happy Tricks and Treats!
Perdita

Don' Worry Be Sappy!

Sad + Happy that is what I am these days.

I am excited about my ten hour drive this weekend back to my training base in Illinois. But sad about leaving my friends and family and the medical team that have been my life line since the spring. But I know this is what we have all been working for, to get me back on track and healthy for fall base training--the most important component of my training.

More than anything I am lamenting no more access to West Indian food! Despite my healthy eating these days, I just like to look at it, smell it even.












Also I sense some nervousness about how much pain I will be in after running hill workouts, "twice a week" I'm told, as opposed to the usual one.








Getting into real shape is gonna suck, but I am ready to embrace it.









In nine years I have not been home for this long of a stretch. I have carved out a little place in everyone's week. Now I am taking my sunny presence from them.

- The Canada Post man who has come to know my radiant smile...Ha!

- Osmow owner of "Osmow's" who makes the best chicken Schwarmas in Ontario, is gonna wonder where his little hurdler went.

- And I can't imagine the disappointment of the old guy at Krispy Kreme who recognized me and gave me a dozen donuts and made me leave quickly without having to pay.


My friend J, says once I get there Ill be fine. She is right. I hate leaving people, but once I get my solitude, I'm in my element.

So I am living up my last few days in town, I have a mani and pedi appointment with my mama this week. As well as her favorite pass time, bingo!












Toronto is great, but I do my best training and find my best focus in a small college town south of its border.















Sad about leaving, but happy about reaching another milestone.
Dita-P

Reports From Vancity

I am back from Vancity, it was pretty chilly there for workouts, which surprised me. But I bundled up and went at it like a champ.

I used the week mainly as a regeneration week. Doing my physio exercises in the morning, then getting my workouts in the afternoon, then got treated in the evening. I saw one of my Docs for a routine reassessment of my foot, and took some video footage of my running mechanics.

As far as my body I am getting a lot of my musculature back pretty quickly. My left calf is still minimally smaller, however based on research it can take a year to get back some strength gains in certain individuals in that part of the body. Hence the reason I am isolating parts of my left side (glutes, hammy, plantar foot muscles, etc) to bring them up to par with my right side. This is done through very tedious exercises that bore me. But alas it must be done.

My running mechanics look fine, apart from my left hip that was rotated forward. The treatment sessions brought a lot of balance back, and I noticed immediate differences in my movements when they were completed. The movement of my foot was good, (the biggest concern after a cast).

Once again I was told to be smart with my transitions and to change the volume, type, intensity, frequency of what I am doing properly.

So my trip to Vancity officially marks my last week in Toronto, it was good to get the once-over and confidence that things are going well. With that knowledge and the time line going as planned, I will be leaving for my training base in Illinois at the end of this month.

This is what I have wanted, but I can't help but feel "SAPPY" (Sad+Happy). :(

More on this later...off to work.

TTYL,
P

Not 19, Not 29

I’m in Vancouver for the week, visiting my Chiropractor, “The Bur”. It’s a long way to come for treatment sessions but he’s that good.

I can’t count the number of times I have come to visit over the years, sometimes it’s for as little as 48 hours. It depends on the time of year, his schedule and what my body decides to do with itself.

My time here is always very reflective, my surroundings induce this. No TV, perched on top of a mountain with an abysmal phone signal, surrounded by the ocean, bears and 'cyotes.













All I can do is climb a mountain stare out at the wilderness and think.












Today’s deep thoughts:

In the last few years my visits to Port Moody, BC in need of the best treatment an elite body can find have become more frequent. “The Bur” made the mistake of misrepresenting my age as he picked me up from YVR the other night, “Preddi, how old are you now, 29?”.

Ugh. I looked at him cross eyed from the passenger seat.

Annoyed. Feathers ruffled.

“Excuse you? We both know I am 28 and some months, so please stop the nonsense”.

But the truth is I am getting older. Many of the things I could get away with when I was a 19 year old college freshman at Illinois, I don’t dare reenact at 28.

For instance I would show up for practice in college and me and a certain partner in crime, would pick and choose which elements of the warm up we would participate in.

“Let’s see:
50m of Side shuffles?...Pass
60m of B-skips? Hmm...mebbe.
40 Lunges? I’ll give you 3—my best offer”.

Crime partner and I, would find great pleasure in this, and laugh our heads off silly, going through the motions but never truly completing 50% of the warm up. Then we would hop into our spikes, ready to do the hardest workout of the week, and complete it unscathed.

A hazardous result that only fortified our intent to do it again the next time.
(This would go on for semester after semester until I finally got my act together as an upper classman).

But, I can’t imagine myself pulling that stunt now, forget dedication and accountability. I am talking about ruptures and stupidity.

Admittedly my body doesn’t have the same resilience it did a decade ago. The approach I take with it has changed. I am more careful with it, respectful of it. Of course my craft depending on it is the main reason.





My coach stresses the importance of taking care of the “little things”. The little things are what tack on years of quality races to your career. The cool down, the diet, a good sleeping pattern, quality treatment, ice baths, managing ones personal life, and "Perdita avoiding Krispy Kreme".



Not doing the little things catch up with you. Not when you’re 19, 21 or 25...but when you have been doing this longer than you thought you would.













Relax. By no means am I announcing the twilight!












As it stands hurdlers get better with age. As our natural speed, power and explosion decline, (ala ageing 100m sprinters), if we can hone in more thoroughly on the strong technical component of our event, we can race, and be competitive into our thirties.
(Putting aside such things as motivation, injury avoidance, priorities, etc.).

















So, without me knowing it I have adopted the mantra of “The little Things”. As if subconsciously sensing this shift from neophyte to expert, I made the transition silently.















One day I could care less about my cooling down, then the next I was manic about it.

I have been in track and field ever since I was nine years old. That is along time to demand excellence from one body. Imagine the number of repetitions, high levels of intensity, stress and taxation bestowed on a single frame. Mine.

So I guess a trip to Vancouver, with its thought provoking effects, is part of the little things. After all I may not be 19 anymore, but I certainly am not 29!

Peace out,
Perdeets