Wandering

Aheli, of Aheli Wanders, is one of my dearest friends. You should all absolutely check out her blog and follow along as she travels the world and finds all the best meals both local (Brooklyn) and abroad (any and everywhere). Last week she was kind enough to let me wander with her, answering questions about travel and racing, as well as food, books, and dogs – basically all of my favorite things! While I will absolutely have her return the favor over here at some point, in the meantime I thought I would tell one of my favorite stories: How Aheli and I met, and the moment we knew we would be friends.

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Guayaba y Queso

In 2009, I studied abroad in Cuba. I applied on a whim during a slow day at an internship and pushed back my college graduation by a semester in order to go. My family and friends were surprised, concerned, and confused to varying degrees (“Are you a communist?” “Aren’t you scared you’ll be kidnapped?” “Just…why…?” No, no, and because it’s CUBA, y’all). My favorite question, though, was from my immediate family: “Are you just doing this for the food?”

It wasn’t a completely unreasonable question.

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Taking time to rest

I don’t like to admit when I’m sick. In fact, as I start to feel less myself – lower energy, sore throat (it’s ALWAYS a sore throat) – the more deliberately active I become, overcompensating to prove that I’m FINE, really! I stubbornly carry on as normal, becoming more and more visibly run down until finally even I can’t ignore it any longer. At that point, my whole body shuts down in protest, and I settle into the sickness, visibly and, not at all dramatically, wallowing in self-pity as I’m forced to take significantly longer to recover than if I’d just given myself a break in the first place.

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All my love to Boston

I’ve spent a lot of time staring at my computer screen, trying to figure out what I could possibly write about the bombings at the Boston Marathon. It would feel so wrong to not write anything, but I can’t seem to find the words to do any of it justice. This isn’t going to be eloquent, and it probably won’t be coherent. I know it won’t capture everything I want to say, but I have to say something.

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Complacency, Caution, and Confidence: An ongoing attitude adjustment

I was looking over my race recaps (putting together my brand new races page) and I realized that they all follow the same basic pattern. By the end of the post I’m satisfied (Hyannis), happy (St. Pat’s), or even elated (NYC!), but at the start they are full of doubt: “I wasn’t sure what to expect,” “I wasn’t exactly sure what my ‘strategy’ was going to be…I was at a total loss,” “I was in a weird place.” Wow. I know I joke about being a little bit clueless, but this is a bit much.

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