I haven’t done it yet. Don’t get excited.
Firstly, I don’t really understand running. I don’t know why this is an activity people choose to take part in. To me, it has always seemed like a punishment or a means to an end.
I don’t really have any interest in running anywhere unless it’s away from a bear or toward Robert Downey Jr.
But the thing is, a lot of people seem to really enjoy it. And the bottom line is that I could use some extra fitness in my life.
I thought I’d taken the first steps to achieving this list item some time ago when I quietly began a Couch to 5k program. This is generally a ten-week training plan that combines walking and running with the intent of taking someone who is mostly sedentary (Hello!) and getting them to the point where they can run 3.1 miles.
I made it through the first two weeks of the program without much issue. In fact, I felt like a million bucks. I would set up my intervals on a treadmill and put in 20-25 minutes three times a week. I felt like I was making great progress.
When I started week three, I began with my walking warm-up like I had all the other times. When it came time to start running, both of my knees started screaming. I chalked it up to routine soreness and powered through the workout. After a day of rest, I hopped back on the treadmill and had the same experience. I kept hoping that my knees were just a little tight and that they’d loosen up during the run. Nope.
I could only go for so many runs with painful knees before I decided that I needed to stop. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t a typical training hurdle. After talking to a few savvy friends, I came to the conclusion that I needed some for-reals running shoes. The $27 sneakers I’d picked up at Target for spin classes two years ago just weren’t going to be enough.
I snapped up a Groupon for a local business that specializes in running. Charlotte Running Company has a location in Dilworth, and on a recent Saturday morning, Mama Shum and I dropped in to check out the shoes.
I was given a pair of “neutral” Nike sneakers and invited to go for a short run on a treadmill at the front of the store. A Vibrams-clad gentleman analyzed my gait and told me that when I run, I roll my feet inward. Because of this, I’d need shoes with more support to prevent this from continuing to happen.
I tried on at least six different pairs of sneakers, testing them each on the treadmill. Asics, Adidas, New Balance, Brooks… I ended up finding the best pair for me in the Mizuno Wave Inspire.
These babies are ugly, but they really do the trick.
I took them out for an inaugural run on Saturday evening, braving the heat and coming home with a bright pink face. They felt pretty good.
The day following, my whole body was sore. Well, my whole body, less my feet and my knees. Good sign!
Now that I have these fancy new kicks, I have no excuses anymore. I’ve got to get out there and hit the pavement (and/or treadmill) and put some real effort into it.
It’ll likely be a few months before I check back in with an accomplishment, but I’m working on it. I’d love to hear any running tips you may have.
The goal is for Mama Shum and I to be able to run the Susan G. Komen For A Cure event in October. On our way!
Number 86: Run a 5k. I’ll do it.
Yeah, I like meat.
I don’t eat a lot of it, especially being out on my own. Nine times out of ten, I just don’t have an interest in cooking meat. I don’t mind handling raw chicken or peeling fatty slices of bacon out of the package. I just usually won’t unless I’m cooking for an occasion.
That’s why I figured putting this goal on my list wouldn’t be a very big deal. Of course, I made the list before my diet became much more restricted based on having Celiac disease. It adds another level of challenge to this item, but I’m not about to let it throw me for a loop.
So far, I’ve completed seven days as a vegetarian. It’s been going pretty well!
During the day, especially if I’m at work, it’s very rare that I bring any meaty treats. Usually I graze on granola, crackers, or fruit. This week has been no different.
My first veggie dinner was awesome. Jovial GF brown rice spaghetti with zucchini and crimini mushrooms. Fresh parmesan grated over. Very tasty and filling.
Other highlights of my first meatless week:
A not-so-green Green Monster smoothie! I loved making these last summer and I’m happy to be making them again. A basic green smoothie for me includes spinach, a frozen banana, and ground flaxseed. This one also had some vanilla almond milk and frozen berries. Really refreshing in the morning.
Menchie’s frozen yogurt. This was a great fruity mix enjoyed after Michael and I threw a bunch of stones in the water. Yogurt on a patio in Dilworth; perfect way to wrap up Day 2 of the veggie challenge. 
A boring cereal breakfast on Day 3 was followed with The Laughing Buddha Bowl from Fern for lunch. Across the table from one of my all-time-favorite people, I dove into black rice with chickpeas, kale, red cabbage, and other locally grown veg. Amazing, and enough for me to enjoy it again for lunch on Day 4!
After work on Day 3, I whipped up an awesome bowl of lemony garlic hummus in my food processor. The best batch of hummus I’ve made to date! Scooped with Trader Joe’s edamame crackers while another friend and I cooked veggie burgers.
A grueling, sweaty bike ride left us more than ready to tear into these babies. Homemade burgers made with rice, GF oats, sunflower and pumpkin seeds, almonds, parmesan cheese, red onion, red and yellow peppers, and all sorts of spices. Best veggie burger I’ve tasted, hands down. The texture was perfect. Served with roasted balsamic green beans and mushrooms.
Day 4 kicked off with an almost fluorescent Green Monster smoothie, this time with pineapple. This is probably my favorite combination. It was super creamy and so delicious. The color may be intimidating, but I really recommend giving these babies a try!
Lunch was a repeat of the day before, but dinner was a standout. An out-of-town friend and I usually go out for sushi when he’s in my neck of the woods. A tweet from him made him seem devastated that I wasn’t enjoying meat this month. How were we going to enjoy sushi? It so happens that our new favorite sushi joint, Akahana, has a great selection of veggie sushi and the staff was willing to accommodate my GF needs. I had three rolls, but this one was the best. The Zen roll, tempura flakes omitted, featured cucumber, avocado, and spicy mayo. Absolutely divine. Now that I’m practically a sushi chef, I may have to try this combination at home!
On Saturday, I made an awesome Szechwan beef (without the beef). It was a mixture of brown and sushi rice, carrots, celery, and green pepper, topped with a wickedly spicy sauce made from sriracha, teryaki sauce, oyster sauce, red pepper flakes, minced garlic, and fresh ginger. Mama Shum and I descended on it so quickly, I couldn’t get a picture. So spicy and good! And spicy!
That night, I had plenty of time before my evening plans and was itching to get in the kitchen. Still mostly full from lunch and about to enjoy some popcorn at the movie theatre, I opted to bake up a snack. GF banana bread — my first attempt — that replaces wheat flour with a blend of sorghum, tapioca, and potato flours. The texture of this bread is amazing, and as far as I can tell, it doesn’t taste any different from traditional banana bread. Fresh out of the oven with some Earth Balance, I was very pleased with my baking efforts. It’s even a bit short on vanilla and sugar, since my pantry is running low in anticipation of my upcoming move. Loved it!
Sunday was another day of picking at leftovers in between naps and lounging in the sunshine. I was fully embroiled in a butter hangover from the previous night at the movies, so my eats were mostly dry, in an effort to soak up the shiny oil that coated my fingertips while we watched Pirates: Band of Misfits.
Great movie, by the way. I highly recommend a watch, once you’re bored with your sixth screening of The Avengers.
A slightly pink Green Monster smoothie for breakfast left me plotting dinner through the workday on Monday. I took to my food-centric Pinterest board and whipped up some quinoa mac-and-cheese.
It doesn’t look like much, but it’s really tasty. Since it’s made with quinoa instead of pasta, it’s packed with protein. Plenty left over for Tuesday’s lunch. Yum!
So, week one as a vegetarian is in the books. I’m interested to see what other dishes I can whip up before the month is out!
Number 62: Be a vegetarian for a month. Seven days down, twenty four days to go.
I’m not sure, exactly, how I missed this lesson growing up.
I can learn you all sorts of facts about frogs and toads, and I even know how to make the wartier of the two play dead on command. Sure, I can do that, but I never learned to skip stones.
There was a futile attempt to learn when I was in high school, but all we had were shells and a ten-foot-wide creek. Not proper learning conditions, you know.
I am to the point in my list where I am asking others for help. Several of my items require learning a fact or skill, and it’s fun to bring other people into my 1,001 day project.
I have a high-quality friend named Michael who knows all sorts of stuff. It was only logical to ask him if he had the know-how as it came to skipping stones. Lucky me, he does! We were about due for a hangout, so we met at Freedom Park on the sunny second day of May.
Isn’t he handsome? I just adore the guy.
The first order of business, as any stone-skipper will tell you, is to find the right ammunition. The stones. We had to do some hunting, but ended up with a pretty good selection.
Michael began coaching me on the walk to the lake. We found a spot along the water’s edge where we wouldn’t be disturbing anyone’s evening bask. Such a beautiful place!
We dumped our stone bounty into a pile on the grass, and Michael fired a few to show me how it’s done.
After the watching and the learning, I tried my hand at a few. I am by no means a natural.
I managed to launch one stone that skipped on the water four times, but it was clearly beginner’s luck, and it never happened again.
Most of my stones to follow just plunked into the lake with a big splash.
“You’re throwing like a girl!” Michael hollered at me.
It’s very hard to be elegant, wearing a pink sundress and sensible flats, trying to hunker down and throw little rocks.
Eventually, I used up all the stones we had collected. I felt satisfied with my four-fer, and at least now I actually know the proper technique.
I’m not a pro, by any means, but if I put my mind to it and really believe in myself, I know I could get, like, five skips.
Also, there were ducklings.
Number 3: Learn how to skip stones. Check. I’m a skipper, alright.
Is there actually anyone who isn’t at least somewhat interested by stars and planets?
Living in a city, I love the moments when I can look up and see the stars, and they’re not obscured by street lights and high rises.
It’s been ages since I’ve been to a planetarium. I had gone a handful of times in elementary school on field trips, and I know I have been to Science Centers with my parents when I was small. It’s likely been at least fifteen years since I’ve been able to look up at a dome covered in delineated constellations and learned about Saturn’s rings.
That count continues, even after visiting the Morehead Planetarium in Chapel Hill, North Carolina.
I decided to work in a visit there because, conveniently, my favorite local-ish band was playing in Carrboro on Friday night.
Thankfully, my friend Megan lives nearby, and opened her beautiful home to me so I could see Lost in the Trees and avoid a three hour drive home in the middle of the night.
The concert was amazing. I’ve seen this group five times now and they wow me at every show. If they’re ever in your part of town, go see them.
I woke up on Saturday morning and dressed comfortably for my planetarium tour and the drive back to Charlotte. Though I had planned on getting there when the planetarium opened, I hit a snag by leaving my phone charger at Megan’s house and was set back twenty minutes. I hoped I would still be able to beat the crowd.
Not a problem.
I parked for free and made my way in.
The main doors open up to a small gift shop, with laminated signs directing visitors to the exhibits downstairs.
Let me take a quick aside and tell you that college campuses really weird me out. I didn’t go to a traditional university, and my only experiences on campus are from visiting friends or going to small events. Something about the super old buildings and ominous hallways really makes me uncomfortable. This planetarium was clearly not built with this purpose in mind. It was likely an office or classroom building before the exhibits moved in. It wasn’t laid out like a common museum or gallery at all. Instead of finding this interesting, I found it somewhat unsettling. That, and the fact that I was the only person that seemed to be visiting that morning.
I followed the signs to the exhibits.
There was a lot of lead-in to the Zoom In! exhibit. The curved hallway leading up to the room where the exhibit was held had backlit posters that hinted at getting a closer look at science and nature. There room itself was small and had a handful of microscopes set up so kids can look closely at items like rocks and bark. There were a few monitors around, but many of them had signs taped to them with apologetic notes that these screens were currently out of order. There was a “touch tank”-type case with bright blue modeling mucus. Not sure what that had to do with anything, but it was there. I briefly inserted my hands into the long, black rubber gloves and splashed around in it. I don’t think I understood the premise.
On to the next exhibit, right up the hall. Well, in the hall. I thought for sure the case in the hallway was a teaser to much more information about Mercury Astronauts, but I was wrong. This was it.
A button on the wall offered visitors a chance to interact with the small exhibit. A red light blinked behind a slowly spinning disc. That was it. Hmm. You can see it in the far right side of the photo above.
A panel below gave some information about the training that took place for this mission.
I kept waiting for some spacey sounds or a to-scale rocket ship replica, but this was all I got.
I would tell you about the third exhibit in this part of the building, but evidently it wasn’t even interesting enough for me to snap a picture of it, and it has slipped my memory. You’re not missing out on anything.
It seemed that I had seen all there was to see in the lower part of this building, so I made my way back upstairs to the gift shop. By this time, there was a line of children and their parents that I quickly learned was there for a birthday party. The line snaked around the gift shop. I asked a mother what the line was for, and she told me that a show was about to start in the theatre. Ooh!
I asked the ticket attendant what show was about to go on. He replied with something about a Magic Tree House. As I turned to enter, he said that tickets for the show were $7.25 apiece for adults. I could hear the kids chattering in the background. “Level with me, is this a show that all ages can enjoy?”
He told me no, that it was very geared toward young children and it was little more than a short film. I decided to save my dollars.
I told the man, obviously a student who was less than thrilled to man the cash register, that this was my first visit to Morehead and I wasn’t sure exactly how to find my way around the place. He rattled off the names of the three exhibits that I had already seen. “Right,” I said, “I’ve been down there.”
“Well, there’s a show at 11:30. It’s free.”
I checked my phone. 10:27 AM.
“Alright, sure. I’ll go to that. Where are the other exhibits to peruse in the meantime?”
“There are the three downstairs.”
So, wait. I had been at the planetarium for roughly seventeen minutes, and I had already seen everything? Where is the dome? Where is Saturn? Where are the damn dippers?
“You guys don’t have an observation dome or anything?”
“No, ma’am. I would not call our facility extensive by any means.”
I’m not sure they could even call it a planetarium, really.
I was immediately glad that I hadn’t made the trip to Chapel Hill JUST to see the Planetarium. Six hours in the car to see a blinking red light? I would have been livid.
Since I was there, though, I figured I’d stick around for the 11:30 show. It was the Science LIVE! Human Body Test. Not sure how that’s applicable to a “planetarium,” but I digress.
I sat outside and enjoyed the nice weather while I waited. I made a few phone calls to pass the time.
I found my way into the Science Theatre, which looked like at some point it had been a small lecture hall. I looked around, and saw that the young host had noticed my entrance.
“Oh… am I the only one here for the show?”
“Looks like it! Have a seat!”
I parked myself in the second row. The host introduced himself. He had a “K” name that I can’t recall. Kent? Kirk? I’m going with Kirk. Only seems appropriate for a planetarium.
Kirk is finishing up his junior year at UNC. He is wearing a Carolina blue lab coat over a UNC t-shirt. I’m pretty sure he still wears braces. He seems nice enough.
The show was about thirty minutes. I kept hoping more people would walk in, but no one did. I wanted to feel special, but mostly I just felt awkward.
Kirk showed me a handful of optical illusions and described why they work. He moved onto tricks with sound waves and busted out a laser to illustrate the layers of sound in a Michael Jackson song.
I got to answer all the questions and volunteer for all of the demonstrations. Kirk stayed bubbly and enthusiastic throughout. Good for him.
When the show was over, so was my visit. I thought about taking some time to explore the UNC campus, but I was already full of disappointment and just wanted to go home.
So, yes, I did visit a planetarium. I left feeling deflated. I’m going to have to find another one to visit, but for now, I will half-heartedly cross this item off my list.
Number 98: Visit a planetarium. Check. Superlame.
Let’s just cut to the chase. I have never been in the ocean past my knees because I don’t like the idea of ocean detritus all up in my lady business.
I wouldn’t classify this as a full-on phobia, but for as much as I love going to the beach, there is a large part of the experience that I actively avoid.
I have an aunt who makes a point to jump right in the ocean the second she’s presented with the opportunity. Something about the saltwater on your skin. I’d never done it, so I could only speak to the possibility of plankton in the kooka. And that freaks me right out.
During our trip to Charleston, I had been dying to spend some time on the beach. After our long walk up and down the shore, I had to face the music. I wasn’t sure the next time I was going to be able to have a proper dunk. It wasn’t a now or never situation; more like a now or some other time that I can’t officially determine.
I reluctantly shimmied out of my cover up dress and stood there in my mismatched swimsuit. I hadn’t even tested the water temperature before I made the decision that I was going to go for it. Stupid.
I stepped in up to my ankles, and the water felt frigid. I walked out further. Up to my knees. I was rapidly adjusting to the temperature.
I kept going, and evidently reached a sandbar where the water didn’t get any deeper for at least ten steps. This is only adding to my anxiety.
I noticed that my hands were in fists, up by my chin. Kept moving forward. The water was halfway up my thighs and a small wave rolled in. It crashed on my lower stomach and I winced. Ohh. It’s real now.
I started talking to myself. “I hate this. I hate this,” I said as I soldiered on. I turned around to determine exactly how far out I was. Definitely not far enough to be sucked out to sea in reality, but far enough for my brain to shout the possibility at me and far enough for me to tighten my fists.
The water is up to my ribs now, and the waves are getting larger. They’re not the cute little guys lapping on the sand anymore. They’re big bullies, taunting me for even considering this.
I made the call that when the next wave came, I would sit down and let the water crash over my head. As I saw one coming, I took a deep breath and crouched down only to see that it wasn’t a large enough wave to go any higher than my shoulders. I was whimpering.
Here comes another one. This one looks for real. As I brought my body under the water, I turned so that the water would hit my back and therein hopefully avoid a nose full of salt water.
Well, I didn’t get ocean water up my nose. So there’s that.
But standing up after the wave hit left me standing alone in the ocean without my bikini top.
I felt it happening in slow motion. I didn’t have enough reaction time to pull the top back up where it was supposed to be, but I did have a split second to clutch my breasts in my hands and close my eyes as tight as I possibly could.
I sunk back into the water to give myself another chance to grab my ruffled top and resituate it. As the water receded, I wiped my eyes, reluctant as I was to open them. There weren’t many people on the beach when I made my journey out, but I could imagine a small creepy crowd waiting with their mouths open.
Luckily enough, I only saw Mama Shum within sight distance, though there she was with my camera, as I had asked her to be. Walking back toward the sand, I started yelling, “Did you see my boobies? Did you see when my boobies came out?”
I made my way back to our little beach station and wrapped myself in a big fluffy towel. Since she clearly hadn’t heard me before, with my face buried in the towel, meekly I said, “my boobies were out. Could you see them?”
“They were out? No, I didn’t see them.”
“Are you just saying that so I won’t feel embarrased?”
I couldn’t even feel ashamed if I wanted to, though, because I was so proud of myself for having put MY WHOLE BODY IN THE OCEAN.
ALL OF IT.
I dried myself in the sun in front of a beach house that I decided belonged to Bill Murray. And then I went back to the hotel and got in the shower. I lathered, rinsed, and repeated.
Number 50: Be completely submerged in the ocean. Check. I did it.
