Henry Wadsworth Longfellow said it best: “Sunday is the golden clasp that binds together the volume of the week.”
Though it’s been cold and dark all weekend, life feels alright. The weekend was the perfect blend of relaxing and productive. Friday we cooked an Indian feast from this book: Yellow dal with spinach, curried fish from Hyderabad, spicy eggplant, raita, saffron rice, and naan (contribution by our guests). It was a project, but worth it. This was our first venture with this book, and while one of the recipes was missing a step (frustrating), the meal was a success. It’s not a particularly accessible Indian cookbook, as it calls for a lot of hard-to-find ingredients like curry leaves and asafoetida.
In exchange for our culinary labors, our friends, who just so happen to be professional art consultants/ framers, helped us dress some of our walls. By the time they left, we’d feasted, coined a new cocktail (named after our street, “The Navarra”), gotten a nice Friday night buzz on, and prettified our place. Our friends dropped copious compliments on our new crib, which always makes me feel warm inside. (Additional pictures on my Flickr set.)
Saturday brought Gordy’s muffins (a North County staple, though still inferior to my dear Ki’s), a leisurely three hour ride, a soak in MY JACUZZI, and a swim with the gnarly new Aquasphere stationary swimmer gizmo Mark bought for me to use in our 15-yard complex. I was surprised at how natural swimming with these felt, and the paddle-like effect will be a nice strength compliment to my training.
A fairly last-minute decision to race the Fiesta Island TT today resulted in another spontaneous decision: 50/50 bacon/sirloin burgers with a fellow TT-ing compadre. I steamed some broccoli to go with the fatty
monstrosities morsels in vain hopes of upping the health quotient.
This morning on a dark, damp, and gusty day on the island, I managed to set another PR. The conditions having sufficiently squashed my expectations, I had a hard time revving the gas. But I just focused on hugging that 300 watt sweet spot, and propelled my (larger as of the last few weeks) ass around that old familiar 20k course.
Beating my previous best time of 28:54, I managed to go 28:46. Apparently the ticket to TT-ing success (for me) is a potpourri of rest, curry, bacon, beer, and cocktails. Why didn’t anybody tell me this before? The new time was good for both a personal best and overall lady of the day. My sweet little crew of friends stood by, shivering, while I waited for my usual six-pack, $15 gift card, and bar of Lindt chocolate. Might as well get that money-per-minute average down a little, right?
Once back in North County, we stopped for a fuel stop at the Encinitas gem Darshan bakery, where we put away six pastries, a brioche roll, a rustic roll, and three coffees between the four of us. Riding the high that only the mash-up of cocktail of sugar, caffeine, and gluten can bring, Beth and I hightailed it back to my place for an hour of trainer time. I threw a transition run on the end, got kicked off the golf course (yuppie scum) and am now kicked back to enjoy the rest of a day that seems unusually long, thanks to those pre-dawn wake up calls we racers know and love.
I don’t care that it’s grey outside—inside, the sun is shining on my patch of Sunday.