velo bento -- march 11, 2010

Okay, more like apres velo bento.
Mixed baby greens, sliced mushrooms, and grape tomatoes drizzled with balsalmic vinegar, a sprinkle of nooch [a.k.a. nutritional yeast - it's addictive], plus some chunks of goat's cheese were devoured after an easy 2hr20min ride yesterday.

I was going top off that salad with slices of roasted sweet potato, but completely forgot. I made up for it with the orange I stuffed into my face after that salad.
And yes, I eat my salads with [pink!] chopsticks. More proof that I am awesome!

power morning

It's 6.15am. When/how/why did I think it would be a good idea to squeeze in a ride this morning?

I have some oatmeal mixed with oat bran, ground flaxseed, cinnamon, and a drizzle of maple syrup to start my engine. And coffee, of course.
See you on the flip siiiide...

velo bento - feb. 25, 2010

A few days ago, Mike sent me a link to this Friskies commercial which is probably the trippiest thing I’ve seen this year. Apparently someone tweeted it, claiming that it might be better than Avatar. I believe it [I haven’t seen Avatar yet!].
I remembered that video yesterday, with the turkeys bowing down and the cows munching away at the grass and the giant fish boat, all participants oblivious to the fact that they were already slaughtered and made into catfood, when I got to school. I was drenched. Soaked. Miserable. But then I pulled out my lunch.
Lunch! Yum!

Yes, I love food. I think we all do. I have a theory that even those with eating disorders love food; they just haven’t figured out a way to manage that love. It’s like going into priesthood because you can’t get away from the all-too-human desire to bone hot chicks. But back to food - I love it, you love it, cyclists all love it. And because I’m Japanese I like to put it in containers and carry it around. And blog about it.
Because putting containers of food on your back and transporting it via bike can result in some interesting stuff. So while my lunches haven’t achieved the status of “bento” [I think that requires more thought and effort; my mom set the standard high in our family], I’m convinced everyone wants to see what I’m nom nom nomming on. And to keep it interesting, I’m posting what it looks like before and after the short commute to school.
Yesterday was mixed greens [I could live off that stuff], topped with spicy tofu, some avocado, and grape tomatoes [sorry about the pink-ish light in the above picture]. That got double bagged with an orange, then carefully placed on top of my laptop, book, change of clothes, and essentials. Of course, by the time I got to school, it looked like this:

It looks so sad, I know! But well tossed, right? FYI, despite how it looks, it was pretty delicious.
I’m working on better containers [I love containers]. And more interesting meals. I doubt they’ll ever be as cool as my mom’s, or induce hallucinations and highs like Friskies might, but you’ll get to hear all about it. Oh, and if you know any container makers in China or something, let me know. I have a few ideas...

weekend warrior

I suppose, in a way, that it was completely appropriate to be feeling up a roadie's legs last weekend.
Actually, I felt up two different sets of legs, and the hard substance that the denim was covering up was foreign enough to have me almost groping. In a totally platonic way, though, and we were all doing it.

It wasn't completely out of context; the season is already under way for those on proper teams and for the Cat 1 and 2 whose legs I prodded, groped, and pushed, their legs are fueling up while their cyclocrossing counterparts have peaked, raced, and sprayed down their bikes one last time until fall. But all in that in-between phase where sitting on a couch for two hours without feeling guilty about it is permitted, roadies, 'cross fanatics, and even those like me who don't fall anywhere on that scale, were collected around a TV on Sunday morning.

Because the Cyclocross World Championships was showing. And because NYC Velo promised yummy baked goods and freshly pulled shots of rich, dense espresso.
Which is why I was in NYC in the first place...for the fourth weekend in a row. But while fun is never lacking in the city, like those times when you've fully given up on finding anything worth dating and something perfect walks in the door and hands you their number, weirdly cool things happen when you're not really expecting it. Like learning how to slip a number to a guy who's attached, what hand-pulled beer tastes like, how hard a Cat 1 can punch, and debating the expected ROI on a Diet Coke. Saturday night, Andy was buying first rounds at d.b.a., and totally comfortable about partying on his dime, I had my first Diet Coke in the city with the guys who purposely mis-pronounce my name when I'm in Boston and are under the impression that I'm about the size of a Pomeranian.

And Sunday, we were back at it; this time I came loaded with vegan peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, Andy with espresso and these giant bombs of non-vegan delicious from Birdbath Bakery. Marco even showed up with donuts, which assured that everyone would be in insular shock by noon.
And on a sugar and espresso high, I even met a few twitter friends, met up again with some Rapha Continental riders, and dropped some cash on a cycloputer [my first!], all before I fought through Chinatown to get on a bus back to Boston. Sitting in an old, slightly dirty, crammed bus, I was wired and tired. Somehow, though, I managed to fall asleep, dreamed of bicycles...and woke up near Boston, where schoolwork awaited [sigh].
...Is it the weekend yet?

protein paranoia

Go vegan for 21 days. That was the initial promise.
And today marks Day 21.
I'm not quite sure why I did it, other than the fact that as a mostly lactose intolerant vegetarian, giving up eggs and honey didn't seem too much of a leap. But cynical about how easy it really was combined with being not too fond of any kind of "forever," I decided on the arbitrary number of 21 days. Three weeks. No animal products. 1 2 3 Go.

Wait, wait. This isn't a post about my discovery of fake meat and chicken-like substances that are actually made from wheat. The thing is that even as a vegetarian, I avoided fake meat. Other than the highly processed nature of the stuff, it seemed a little weird to miss meat - which I really didn't - on a vegetarian diet. Tofurkey, vegan deli "meats," Tofu pups...they all seemed a little too alien to grace my plate. Besides, eating real food - vegetables, fruits, and whole grains - made me feel better. Why fix something that's not broken?
Unfortunately, veganism, I've found, is a little different. The small "vegetarian" notation on a menu becomes meaningless because you can't eat butter, milk, or eggs. Suddenly you have to be annoyingly inquisitive about your food. You start scanning ingredient labels for things like casein and whey while your friends roll their eyes behind your back. Veganism is to nutrition, I've found, what paranoia is to mental health.
Which is why I tried to avoid the nutritional equivalent of constantly looking over my shoulder. I ate lentils and vegetables and fruit, forgot to take my B12 supplements every day, didn't monitor my protein intake, and got massively depressed as a result. Go me.

Okay, okay, I was PMSing, too. But we're talking about the kind of off-the-charts crazy that had me weeping over not getting enough protein and crying over not being motivated enough at everything. Even on the level of insane in which I usually operate, things were not normal. I creeped out a bunch of my friends. Some advised me to eat some yogurt. I considered it.
But we're talking about a mere 21 days. So instead, I ate some tofu, invested in a tub of nutritional yeast, and toughed it out. I researched plant protein sources and bought my first ever bag of protein powder, feeling like a ripped jock in the process. I learned about the controversies behind unfermented soy and steamed my first batch of tempeh. Beans are my new best friend, and popcorn sprinkled with nutritional yeast is one of the best snacks I've ever had. End result? In 21 days, I've learned a lot, but not quite enough.
So I'm going to keep at this. Maybe for 4 more weeks. Maybe for 4 more months. Who knows? I do know, though, that my bag of hemp protein powder probably won't get consumed otherwise. And with the smoothies I'm mixing them into, that would be a damn shame, vegan or not.

Protein Paranoia Smoothies [Inspired by Alton Brown's Buff Smoothie, this is a versatile recipe in which the mixed berries can be switched out for plain raspberries, strawberries, or blueberries. Alton Brown adds 2 ounces of acai juice, but I prefer to just use more almond milk. Of course, you can use any milk alternative of your choice as well.]
Ingredients 4 oz. unsweetened almond milk 2 oz. banana [about half of one, if using frozen, thaw it first] 2 oz. frozen peaches 2 oz. mixed berries 1 tablespoon hemp protein powder
Directions 1. Combine all the ingredients in the blender the night before. Place in the fridge. 2. In the morning, mix on low for one full minute. Then blend on high for 30 seconds. 3. Double-fist with coffee. Or enjoy solo.
Makes 1 serving.

layered denial

A few years ago, my "spring break" coincided with Valentine's Day. Finally taking the time to head down to NYC to visit a sister and a best friend I hadn't seen in a small eternity, I walked into an apartment full of...cupcakes. There were about 10 or so cupcakes, all from various donors privy to the fact that my sister's girlfriend has something of a cupcake obsession. The situation escalated into the absurd when my best friend came over for dinner, bringing with her a half dozen, softball-sized Crumbs cupcakes.
After gorging ourselves, we felt obligated to put a dent into the cupcake surplus. But given how large Crumbs cupcakes can be, we modestly cut them into fourths. But 10 minutes into dessert, with all of us dipping back into the tray for "just another piece," my best friend made the following observation:
"We don't we all stop lying to ourselves...we're all going to eat the equivalent of one cupcake."

It was true. We were in denial, nonetheless, and only assented to that observation after we each demolished at least 3/4 of a cupcake. And this time of year, I'm back to cutting my cupcakes, so to speak. Because in full denial of the current onslaught of winter, instead of perhaps wearing a proper jacket, I'm leaving the house in layers: long-sleeved Underamour, leggings, jeans, knee high socks, fleece jacket, soft shell jacket, and a down vest. Add to that a giant Ortlieb bag, helmet, and Pearl Izumi AmFIBs, and I look like a colorblind Ninja Turtle [my jacket and hat are red...the down vest dark green]. But hey, it keeps me on the bike, and that's the important part.
Because fully in finals mode, too little time is spent in the saddle. Countless hours are clocked in in front of a desk, and the Bianchi only gets ridden when I manage to find an excuse to venture outside. But when I do, whether I'm bundled up to the gills or relishing the absurdly warm weather we had earlier this week, I'm savoring.

And not only because I've been filling up on some awesomely good vegan yumminess [read: curried split pea soup from "Vegan With A Vengeance"]. Sure, it could be my body finally getting some Vitamin D, but the motion of pedals and the feel of the frosty wind that's preventing me from actually moving forward are oddly appreciated this time of year. Even short rides to the grocery store to pick up something I didn't really need - but convinced myself I should get to alleviate the cabin fever - are fun, despite their simplicity and lack of length. With windows wide open at night, I'm doing too much time on the rollers, too. So as the hours and days dwindle down to that Corporate Tax exam that I'm so not prepared for, I'm clinging to both of my bikes as if they were security blankets of tax law knowledge.

And somehow, there's a complete lack of that feeling I usually get around exam time, where I panic and productively spend my time wishing I could hit a magic "Pause" button and buy myself some time and comprehension. None of that feeling of my bowels going through a blender when I see the days disappearing on my calendar, either. Even if studying is getting done at the pace I ride the rollers [i.e., slowly].
But then again, I just might be waist-deep in denial. Attempting to take a power nap a few days ago resulted in dreams plagued by conflicting tax provisions. But...ignorance is bliss [until I get my grades back], right?