Update: Low, tired, vegan-on-the-road, diet. Pause.

1. Low. In the past week, a couple of situations with my advisor have left me feeling crushed, frustrated, and stupid. Based on what I've heard from other people about the final years of a Ph.D. program, this is par for the course. But it sucks.

I love what I do so much, and yet it feels like such an uphill battle because subtle sexism is rampant. Moreover, many of these men don't even know they're doing it, so it's tough for them to recognize the problem, much less change their communication tactics.

I don't want to be treated like a little girl. I don't want condescending lectures about stuff I already know and know well. I am GOOD at what I do - in the field, in the lab, AND in the classroom. I have something to offer! All I want is to be able to contribute to my scientific community and share my passion for science with my student collaborators. I don't want to live in fear that I won't be able to do what I love simply because I don't speak in the same "language" as many of my counterparts. As stated in a Scientific American article published late last year:

"Scientific inquiry is surely at stake, said Mary Anne Holmes, a mineralogist at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln and former president of the Association for Women Geoscientists. "Women may have a different way of asking questions about the science and communicating the consequences," Holmes said.

Studies have shown that groups make better choices when group members have diverse experiences and points of view, Holmes noted. It's not that women look at the data and see some big feminine question that's not being asked or that men don't ask good questions, she added. Men "just don't ask all the questions."

And it's funny how, when I start talking about this stuff around my male colleagues, I see a lot of eye rolling. Their perspective on this is different, and I end up feeling like a whiner.

2. Tired. I slept all day. This last work trip was an exhausting one: we were pulling long shifts, some of which went through the night. I felt fine while I was there, but as soon as I took my seat on the flight home yesterday, I felt like I'd been hit with a brick. I still do.

3. I'm going to write a post about my attempts at vegan living on the road. The upshot of it is that although I could have done it, I broke down when I discovered a well-stocked candy drawer during my midnight lab sessions. Fun-size Milky Ways taste so. damn. good. when you're exhausted and bored. And once the sugar hit my system, it was allllll over. I singlehandedly decimated that candy supply.

4. Diet. I tracked my calories until right around the time I started inhaling chocolate. Then I decided to "take a break." I'm confident I can get back on track now that I'm home.

5. Press pause. Can I do that right now? Press pause on life and take a time out? Preferably on a sunny beach with an alcoholic beverage? I'd like to.

Blue skies, finally

Today was the first continuously sunny day in more than a week. After being scoured by so much rain, sleet, and more rain, the sky was a brilliant, crisp blue. I decided to be a bad graduate student and skip school (and traffic). (In my defense, I've put in a lot of work this week, gone in early and stayed late, and submitted abstracts and manuscript drafts, so I decided playing hooky was okay.) On my day off, I...

...went to an Xtend Barre class at the decadently late hour of 9 a.m.

...decided to enjoy the sun by going to the park and jogging. I'm not sure where I mustered up the energy, but I managed to run four miles with negative splits, with my slowest mile being 9:28 and my fastest being 9:05. Those are good times for me, especially considering that I never felt like I was going all out.

Evidence of a gorgeous day.

...went on a coffee/hummus date with my husband at a new cafe in town:

The coffee was Panama something-or-other,

and it was amazing.

...borrowed some books from the library, including the new biography of David Foster Wallace.

...did some laundry.

...did not clean my house.

Re: that last one. It's funny how memories that once seemed insignificant - like, why have I remembered it all these years? What was the purpose in hanging onto it? - sometimes take on greater meaning. One such memory is of going to my first best friend's house to play. The place was always a complete disaster area: toys everywhere, sticky countertops, pet fur covering the couches, dust all over the floor. Even as a six-year-old, I noticed the disarray. But it was always so much fun. We let our imaginations run wild building stuff, coloring, moving toys from one room to another, going from inside to outside to inside to outside. Unlike my other friends' moms, she wasn't one to chase after us with broom, dustpan, vacuum cleaner, and annoyed tone. Instead, she was usually reading or writing or cooking or doing something for herself. She seemed to have her own life. I remember feeling really free and relaxed there, knowing that as long as we didn't fight or say/do anything inappropriate, no-one was going to yell at us.

Even with just one kid, it's hard to keep our place clean, and I try far less to do so than I used to. There are legos under pretty much every piece of furniture and Kindergarten artwork on almost every wall. Our ottoman is falling apart, and our couch has a three-inch gash in the cushion. My son's room looks - to me - like a mess, though he assures me that it is actually a house with its own kitchen, bedroom, and art center.

It's not a total pit. It's not dirty. It's just messy and lived-in. Well loved, well used. Nothing like a Pottery Barn ad. I could clean for 18 hours a day and my son could still undo it in a matter of minutes. 

Sometimes I wish it were cleaner (I'm type A: messes of any kind make me at least a little anxious) but then I remember my friends' house and I feel better. That feeling I had when I was there is the feeling I want him to have at home. Freedom to just be a kid and not worry about how an emptied toy box might affect the adult's psyche.

A Very Vegan Christmas

Merry Christmas and/or happy holidays, depending on what you celebrate. Regardless, I hope you get to spend this time of year with people you love.

My parents are in town to help celebrate, and yesterday I made a whole vegan spread for dinner. (Today is Day 8 of my 30 Day Vegan Challenge.)

1. Acorn squash with salt, pepper, and brown sugar:

This was super easy. The hardest part was simply cutting the squash in half. Had anyone been watching me try to slice through this thing with a butcher knife, I would have probably given them a heart attack. Thankfully it all worked out.

2. Steamed mustard, turnip, and collard greens with sweet onions, grape tomatoes, and yellow squash:

I didn't use a recipe for this one. I just made it up as I went along. I heated up the onions, then the tomatoes and the squash; this lent some sweetness to the pan. Then I added the greens and steamed it all on low for about 10 minutes or so. It takes a while for these types of leaves to soften up.

3. Roasted beets, carrots, and brussels sprouts:

Another easy one. I coated the brussels sprouts and carrots with a couple tablespoons of olive oil and then sprinkled in salt and pepper. I did the same to the beets, but separately to minimize getting beet juice everywhere (still happened during the cooking process, though). Then I roasted the mixture at 400F for ~30 minutes.

4. Smashed potatoes:

I peeled the potatoes and cooked them in the microwave until they were soft. Then I squished them up using a potato masher and added Earth Balance spread (not too much, since it tends to be a bit oily) and almond milk (probably between 1 and 1 1/2 cups in total).

Also, I purchased a crusty loaf of bread for everyone else's enjoyment. I heated it up, sliced it, and slathered a piece of it with butter for my son. Kid looked like he was in gluten heaven.

Verdict: I thought it was fantastic; the best thing was feeling full and satisfied, but not stuffed. My mom said she loved it. My husband seemed to enjoy it, especially the potatoes. My dad... Not so much. This was not his idea of a traditional Christmas dinner. Or traditional Christmas anything, given that we do not go to church or attend a Christmas Eve service. I have to be really careful not to let myself fall into the "I never do anything right" thing with them.

But whatever. You come to my house, you get to eat my hippie granola food and do the holidays our way. In the end, I hope they realize that we do have common ground - not in food, not in spiritual beliefs or practices, not in income, but in family and in doing our best for the kids in our family.

Anyway, have a wonderful day! I hope you get to eat, and rest, and share, and get all of the things you need and at least a few of the things you want.

Things I love about running: continuity

One thing I love about running is that it keeps me centered when I travel. Running gives me a sense of continuity when everything else - the climate, the food, the atmosphere, the people I'm around - is different from what I experience in my everyday life.  

I've been traveling a lot lately: several days per month on average. The trips are necessary and beneficial from a professional point of view, but they can be difficult because sometimes being away from home makes me feel like I'm losing my connection to myself. My brain starts getting kind of fragmented. The worst case of that occurred during a work trip last June; when I came home, I felt so depressed and out of it that I spent a week in bed. I don't want that to happen again.

Running helps. Wherever I am, I can put on my Asics, head out the door, and physically/mentally feel just as I do when I run at home or anywhere else. I am so grateful for that. I do not know what I'd do on these trips if I weren't a runner.

Here in Berkeley, I ran 6 miles yesterday and 7 miles today. I loved how the damp, drizzly air felt as I breathed it in, and how the bay looked from the hills above the university. I loved how the leaves on some of the maple trees are still a brilliant red. I loved seeing so many people out walking, biking, and running on a weekend morning. Running has been one of my favorite things to do here and a great way to see the city.

 Berkeley Hills

I love the neighborhoods here. I love how the houses are all so unique and how the trees are so grown.

Daydreaming, Part 2: Adventure

One time, I sailed as a deckhand from England to the Canary Islands on a tall ship. It took about a month, and we had to cross the Bay of Biscay, otherwise known as the "Bay of Sickbay" because of its stomach-lurching effects.

It was a really amazing trip - one of the biggest adventures I'll ever have, I'm sure. Things I best remember: drinking hot chocolate on the deck at midnight when I wasn't on watch, the brightness and density of the stars over the pitch black ocean, getting chased down the hall by a misplaced vacuum cleaner during a gale-force storm (one of two we experienced), getting hit so hard by a wave during the middle of the night that the water rushed into my Wellies and soaked everything I was wearing, learning to tie knots and stow rope, climbing up to the top of the main mast (terrifying), the weird things the British cook made us for breakfast and dinner.

It was pretty fantastic. I think I was happy and focused for 99.99% of that trip. Except that one time when the first mate yelled at me for not tying up a tarp as taut as it needed to be. Oh, and the time the cook made us eat hard-boiled eggs wrapped in stuffing and cornflakes. That was weird.

I love what I am doing now because I still get to have adventures. I get to spend time in the middle of nowhere and hike around for days on end. I get to travel. Sometimes I get to see places that I couldn't see as a tourist, simply because my studies give me a kind of "all access pass." I get to eat food cooked over a campfire. Every now and then I do things that don't seem very safe at all, which I both hate and love. Usually, at least one odd and unsettling (but ultimately harmless) thing happens on every adventure, and it makes for a good story later on.

And then I get to come home, be a mom, hang out with my kid and husband, go to school, work out, clean my house, go to the grocery store, fret over the balance in the checking account, and make dinner. All that is an adventure, too.

What are some of the adventurous things you do, either in your everyday life or once in a blue moon? What are the things that make your life awesome, that give you meaning, purpose, memories, adrenaline?

Wind, rain, hills... 20 miles

20 miles, done.

It was not an easy run for either RF or myself. We started off on an exceedingly hilly road and followed it for the first 11 miles. At mile 4 or 5, we hit a hill that seemed to go on forever, and I really struggled. I kept moving forward, but very slowly, and my mind kind of shut down. I couldn't manage to put together coherent thoughts, except a Little-Engine-That-Could type mantra: Keep going. Keep going. Keep going. This first half of the run was more beautiful, but although I did take note of the gorgeous red, yellow, and orange leaves, I didn't enjoy it much. It was a slog. Plus, my knee started to ache somewhere in there; I worried that it might not hold up.

At mile 11, we stopped to have a snack that my husband had cached for us. Amazing: a little extra water, a little Gatorade, an energy bar, some stretching, and I was like new. In fact, from there on out I felt a whooooole lot better. Not to say the second half was easy. It wasn't. But I found a groove and stayed in it for most of the rest of the way. It helped that we a) walked up a couple of the bigger remaining hills (honestly, I think I walk up hills more quickly than I run them - I go into speedwalker mode) and b) took a bathroom break. Plus, I promised myself that at mile 16 or 17 I could consume my beloved Espresso Hammer Gel. For whatever reason, it tasted absolutely divine, even though anything else would have likely made me puke.

At mile 17.5 or so I started breaking up the run into mini-goals: run to that sign, now run to that electric pole, now run to the stoplight. Mentally, it worked wonders.

During the last mile the wind picked up to 20-25 mph, and we were running directly into it. We felt like we were standing still. That part was tough.

It was good, I think, to have such a tough run and get through it anyway. That way, even if parts of the marathon are rough, we'll know we're capable of pushing through.

*  *  *

Near home, RF joked that "we shall overcome," and suddenly I was swooped back in time to elementary school when we sang that song at nearly every assembly and holiday concert. I remembered all the words and hummed it all the way back. I'd forgotten how much I love that song. And in a way, it was appropriate for our morning. :-)

*  *  *

Got home, iced my knee, ate apple crumble, ate a burrito, ate some chips, drank a lot of fluids, ate some more. Showed my son how to use Q-Tips to spread glue onto paper; ended up with a giant mess on the kitchen table. Showed my son how to make pancakes and roasted potatoes for dinner; ended up with a giant mess on the counter. ;-) I'm surprised at how much energy I had this afternoon. If anything, I had MORE energy than I usually do on days when I do not run.

I love running.

Scattered

This week has gone by ridiculously, ridiculously fast.

Workout rundown:

Sunday - 18 miler (see previous post)

Monday - Day off

Tuesday - 5 miles in the morning, Xtend Barre in evening

Wednesday - Unintentional day off

Thursday - 5 miles in the morning, Xtend Barre in evening (kicked my butt)

Planned workouts:

Friday: 3-4 miles

Saturday: 4 miles

Sunday: 20 miles (!!!) - Yup, going to go for it. My legs feel fine.

In other news, I have been incredibly flaky/forgetful lately, which I didn't quite understand until I took a mental step back to assess what I've been doing. There's just so much going on. Usually I am on the go from the moment I wake up (~5:15 a.m.) to the time I go to bed.

Examples of recent flakiness:

-Forgot psychiatry appointment. For the second time. She was not amused.
-Forgot to put away lab equipment that really needed to be put away promptly. Luckily, we were able to resuscitate it.
-Scheduled birthday party the night before my husband's 7 a.m. marathon (the one that is 2.5 hours away...)
-Forgot to submit various important emails/pieces of paperwork
-Forgot about office hours

I try hard to be conscientious and meet my obligations, but my brain appears to have reached full capacity here. What space I have, I devote to the most important stuff - family, interesting research and teaching, running. Not so much to the things that at this point seem kind of irritating and in the way. Like my meetings with my psychiatrist, who is a nice woman with meager therapy skills and who I just wish would give me my prescription without me having to come in once a month even when I feel completely fine.

Clearly I need to make more lists or something. Except then I would lose them, so really, what is the point.

Daydreaming of the Alps

Jill's descriptive posts about the Tour des Geants have me reminiscing about the month I spent hiking in the mountains of Germany, Austria, and Italy.

It was a long time ago. Eight years ago. I can't believe so much time has passed since then, and how quickly. I have fond memories of: the huts, muesli, calloused feet, stinky wool socks, near-vertical ascents up wooded slopes, fluorescent shoelaces, via ferrata, breathtaking views.

It was one of those times when you know you're in the midst of a special experience. Jill's pictures, and these pictures, make me want to go back.

"May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds." - Edward Abbey

Exhaustion, and week in review

I am just plain tuckered out! I decided to run last night, do a fitness class this morning, and then run again right after the class. Now I want to sleep the afternoon away (which... with a five-year-old? Is a total pipe dream) and eat.

*   *   *
Things about last week that stand out:

• My son's first day of Kindergarten! I'm so proud of him and hope that this year will be a wonderful experience.
• Going to, and making a sincere effort to keep up with, a new barre class (even though I am, physically speaking, the anti-ballerina)
• Getting my fall schedule figured out
• Beautiful weather with some much-needed rain mixed in
• Keeping up with my goal to drink ~64 ounces of water every day
• Cooking something new (chickpea patties - yum)
• Mood: Pretty upbeat overall

Things I'm looking forward to:

• Date night with my husband
• My two closest friends from school finally returning from their looooong summer field seasons in exotic areas of the world (Iceland and New Zealand) 
• Another relatively relaxing, work-free day tomorrow

Things I'm grateful for:

• My sweet, smart, energetic, creative, affectionate little boy 
• My laid-back husband, who doesn't always understand me but unconditionally accepts me
• The best, most supportive, most energetic dissertation advisor ever - we butt heads sometimes, but I can't imagine a better mentor
• Time for relaxation
• Amazing opportunities - school, travel, free public education for my child, good health, employment
• The capacity, freedom, and opportunity to make changes, and people who are willing to help me as I strive to do so

I like this: "Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world." - John Milton

What about you? What are you grateful for?

The first day

Today was my son's first day of Kindergarten - well, half-day orientation, but close enough. It was the first time he met other children in his class and spent appreciable time with his teachers.

The whole operation went as smoothly as it possibly could have. Dropped him off; no tears (he seemed a little anxious until the tall, pretty blonde teacher asked him about his Transformers backpack... She won him over in seconds.) Picked him up; all smiles. Unprompted, he even told me about part of his day: he colored in an apple picture and cut it out, and he ate lunch in the cafeteria. Given that he's always been reluctant to tell us about activities at his preschool, I took this as a sign that he's excited about his new experience.

A few months ago I worried about him going to Kindergarten: he's so shy sometimes... Would he be okay? Would he be able to stand up for himself if someone picked on him? Would his learning be totally test-oriented? Would the kids get enough science, art, and playtime? Would someone hurt him, and if someone DID hurt him, would he tell me? I really worked myself into quite a frenzy and was well on my way to becoming the poster mother for Helicopter Parenting.

In late April all of those concerns veritably disappeared when we went to the school to pre-register him. He fell in love immediately: with the library stocked with computers, books, and comfy seats; with the music room filled with drums, xylophones, guitars, and other instruments; with the bright, colorful Kindergarten classrooms; with the computer lab.

I fell in love with the school, too, mainly because it reminded me so much of my own public elementary school: not at all fancy, very diverse in terms of student population, down to earth, warm. If I have one academic-related wish for my son right now, it's that he enjoys this part of his educational journey as much as I did. For me, school was a source of comfort and consistency, a place where I couldn't wait to be every day because I knew I'd be doing and learning new things. Every morning was like Christmas. My teachers played a critical, vital part in shaping not only my knowledge base, but my sense of self-worth and self-confidence. Even now, I can still remember the names of each one of my K-6 teachers, and I think of all of them fondly because they were so kind to me. They made me feel like I could do anything.

With my son starting grade school, I am reminded that it is perfectly okay for a village - not just the parents - to help raise a child. In my own life, I don't know where I would be now without that village. My son's childhood is different than mine, but nevertheless, I want him to develop bonds with people - adults and kids - other than us. No one person can be everything for someone else, not even a parent for her child.

ETA: 3-mile run followed immediately by 1-hour "ballet class" = I can't bend my arms. Or legs.

Weekend in pictures and a documentary recommendation

This was a great, lazy, relaxed weekend. Again, I'm so glad to be home. I'm so glad that I didn't have anything scheduled. And I'm very, very, VERY glad the weather was so beautiful, because it meant I got to spend a lot of time sitting out on my patio without melting.

This weekend I...

Went running: outside on Saturday and on the treadmill today (26 minute higher-intensity workout consisting of 3 minutes of walking, 20 minutes of >5K pace, 3 more minutes of walking)

Ate a lot. My son and I made cookies, as planned:

On Saturday I made a delicious dinner salad with romaine and spinach, mandarin oranges, cucumber, almonds, plums, cherries, tomatoes, carrots, and avocado:

I dug through 3/4 of this evil gluten-free cereal that my husband purchased for me. It's like crack. I can never allow him to purchase it ever, ever again.

Played with my son. We spent some time with Play-doh...

...then decided to ramp up the excitement by going outside with a bunch of different foods to see what ants prefer to eat. According to our very scientific study, they love chocolate chip cookies and American cheese, but aren't all that fond of carrots:

(All those little dark specks on the cookie are ants.)

 We also found this guy while we were experimenting:

Drank wine. Outside. 

Watched two documentaries (I love documentaries): Home and Triage. "Home" was interesting but left me feeling incredibly frustrated/maybe a little outraged at the woman who "starred" in it. "Triage" was painful to watch but important in sending out a reminder that we're all united by the human condition. I highly highly highly recommend it.

"It’s not about creating the perfect future. it is about responding to another human being who is suffering in a very particular way, and responding to them in a very particular way. With the expectation that that is the starting point of what we are as human beings.” - James Orbinski, Triage