One Hour Swim and Smothered Pork Chops

On Sunday, I did the Team New York Aquatics One Hour Swim.  The event is exactly what it sounds like...you have an hour to swim as much as you can.  It's all in a pool, and you just keep going, back and forth and back and forth.

I had set myself a goal of doing 3000 yards for the hour.  I had no idea if this was realistic or not, it just seemed like a nice round number.  It meant sustaining 60-second 50s for the whole hour.  I knew I was able to swim that fast for 200-yard intervals, but was really nervous about having to do it for an hour.

Before the swim started, we had about 5 minutes to warm up in our lane. Each of our lanes were divided into two.  I shared my lane with a nice woman whose name I forgot.  On my second warmup lap, I crashed into her.  It wasn't just a bump--my right arm locked onto her right arm and we became stuck to each other.  Then she yelled at me, in front of everyone at the pool.  I was so humiliated.  And I knew then and there that this swim was gonna be a sh-tshow.

Twenty seconds before the swim started, I noticed that just about every other swimmer kept a bottle of water  on the deck.  I hadn't even thought to bring water.  And I was already a little dehydrated from a night of karaoke and dancing Saturday night.  This was going to be a disaster.

My first lap, I tried to keep up with the lady in my lane (46 seconds).  That was way too fast.  So I slowed down the second and third laps (51, 55).  By the fourth lap I was tired.  But after the first six or seven laps, I pretty much settled into a groove where I was between 58-61 seconds for the rest of the hour.  One exception was at the halfway point, where I decided to do one lap of breast stroke to loosen up my arms (71 seconds, followed by two fast 56 second laps of freestyle).

Peter McGrane was standing on the deck, being a great cheerleader.  Many, many, many times when I got to the wall, I heard "GO DAVE LIN!" which definitely encouraged me to keep going.  As my mind was wandering through all those laps, I contemplated asking him to fetch me a cup of water, but didn't want to lose the time.  But then I couldn't stop thinking about it, and the more I thought about it, the thirstier I became.

I stayed relatively on my side of the lane pretty much the whole time.  Two times I bumped against the the lady, but they were both minor.  I was trying to hug the lane divider the whole time, and I'm actually quite surprised that I didn't jam my fingers into it--something that I do with quite some frequency.

After about 45 minutes, I started getting a little bored.  Like that feeling you get when you're running on a treadmill and just waiting for it to end.  I found myself looking at the clock after every lap to see how much more time I had left.  I felt fine physically, but it was just a long time to swim.

Finally, I was in the last few minutes.  I was really happy that I was able to make it the whole hour.  And my very last lap was actually one of my fastest laps, 55 seconds.  And then they called time...  and I was so, so happy I was done.  The longest I've ever swam continuously in my life.  It was so great to be finished.

But my real happiness didn't come until a few minutes later, when I was able to track down my timing sheet.  It turned out, I made my goal of 3000 yards!!  In fact, I had JUST BARELY made it, with 3040--not even a single lap to spare.  Wow!  I was elated.  It was such a great feeling to know that I had done exactly what I had set out to do, to have succeeded in reaching my goal.  It also made me realize how far I've gone in swimming over the past year or so.  Just a year and a half ago, I had my disastrous Metroman swim, where I was second to last out of 190 finishers.  And now, I can go 3000 yards without a problem!

*                                   *                                   *

As you loyal readers of the blog may have noticed, I've become quite a big fan of Southern/soul food (see here, here and here).  So when Jonathan came over for dinner the other night, I was happy to get to test out a new recipe on a real Southerner.  He wanted pork, so I decided to make some tasty smothered pork chops.  Yummmmm....

I cook pork pretty frequently, but I just about always make it Asian.  And it's usually mixed in with a bunch of vegetables, never just a big hunk of meat.  When I do buy pork chops, it's usually the thin variety, which I think is a better vehicle for delicious Asiany marinades.

But this time I got 1" thick chops, better for dredging, frying, and covering in creamy gravy.  Mmmm....   Since this was my first time making smothered pork chops, I decided to loosely follow Tyler Florence's recipe.  Except Jonathan used the wrong pepper mill and put in ground Sichuan peppercorns instead of black pepper, haha.  

They came out pretty good, I have to say, and only took about 12 minutes to make in my cast iron skillet.  I even liked the slight tingliness of the Sicuan peppercorns.  :-)

My go-to Southern side dishes are always collard greens and sweet potatoes, since they're easy and pretty healthy.  But I think I need to branch out into other things.  Still, they came out pretty tasty this time...  I used smoked pork neck bones (very cheap at Fairway!) to flavor the collards.

Jonathan said all three dishes tasted just like back home (except his grandmother would have put an extra stick of butter in everything).  I took that as a great compliment.  Not bad for an Asian guy in New York City.

Blue Line Run and Chicken

This Sunday was the Front Runners annual Blue Line Run.  It's definitely my favorite run of the year.  Every year, three weeks before the New York City Marathon, FRNY meets in Brooklyn and runs the last 20 miles of the marathon, from Brooklyn through Queens, Manhattan, the Bronx, and Manhattan again, to end up at the finish line in front of Tavern on the Green.  I had missed the Blue Line Run for the past two years because it was the same weekend as the Chicago Marathon, so I was especially excited about doing it this year.

And so were a LOT of other Front Runners.  We had 120 people show up to the start!!!  (I remember when I did it three years ago, there were maybe 30-40 people.)  We also had about 15 FRNY volunteers to hand out Gatorade along the course, and Steve and Jim were on bikes directing us.  It was quite an impressive production and I think everyone really enjoyed the run, especially the FRs who are doing the marathon in three weeks.

I, however, had kind of a sucky run.  You may remember from my last post that I got kicked really hard in the knee at the MightyMan Triathlon a couple of weeks ago.  Well, that kind of messed up my running for two weeks.  I had run exactly three times in the two weeks between MightyMan and the Blue Line Run.  The first time, three days later on a Wednesday fun run, I was only able to run about a mile and half before my knee got in so much pain that I couldn't even bend it without it hurting.  I then took off the next week and made an appointment with Jordan Metzl for the following Tuesday.  Dr. Metzl looked at the x-ray and said I was fine, that it was probably just a bruise on my knee, and that I should not change my plans to run the marathon.  So the next day, Wednesday, I went back to the fun run.  At mile three, my knee felt fine, so I decided to do the six mile loop.  But it hit me at mile five, and I pretty much had to walk the last mile.  I was pissed.  Dane and Ryan passed me and I was mean to them.  Michael O asked me afterwards how my run was and I pretty much snapped at him.  I was just so upset that after all this time (about a YEAR) of dealing with my butt issue, I finally start to get back to the point where I'm running consistently, and I friggin f-ck up my knee.  UGH.  I was, however, slightly reassured by the fact that I was able to run longer than I had the previous Wednesday, and took it as a sign that I would improve, hopefully before the marathon.

So on Sunday, for the Blue Line Run, my hope was just to finish.  I had run the first 10 miles at about an 8-minute pace, with Marty and Paul, and I felt pretty good.  Then, turning onto First Avenue from the 59th Street Bridge, I had a pretty abrupt and devastating downward crash.  My knee locked up and my energy level came spiraling down.  I stopped to stretch my legs at 60th Street.  By this time, most of the people in the 8-minute mile pack had passed me, so I ended up slowing down drastically.  I told myself I would probably just run across 90th Street and cut off the top of Manhattan and the Bronx (saving 5 miles).  I spent the next mile and a half jogging and sometimes walking, stopping another time or two to stretch.  When 90th Street came, I started feeling fine again, so I decided to run to 125th Street.  The stretch down 5th Avenue from 125th to 90th Streets is, I think, one of the harder parts in the Marathon, and an area where I don't run very often; so I wanted to get at least that part of the course in.

I spent the next mile and a half with more jogging/walking/stretching until I fiiiinnnally got to 125th Street.  As I contemplated turning left onto 125th Street to cut the run short, the Willis Avenue Bridge stared me in the face, taunting me, enticing me to cross into the Bronx.  Against my better judgment, I decided to cross the bridge, intending to finish the entire twenty mile run.  But as soon as I crossed, I started to really feel like I was falling apart.  My knee was hurting, I was tired, my butt was aching, and I was getting chaffed from my shorts.  But I pushed on, taking more frequent walk breaks and stretching my legs.  I felt miserable.  I finally decided that I would run to 90th Street and just take a taxi to the finish.  That last mile, from 110th to 90th, I felt would never end.  It seemed like I was practically walking it.  Rob and some others were manning the water stop at 100th Street, and when I saw them, I felt so embarrassed for being so beat up after only 17 miles, and lagging so far behind people who I should have been running with.  I knew I wouldn't be able to finish the 20 miles, so I mustered all the energy I had to basically crawl down to 90th Street, where I promptly jumped into a taxi to take me to Tavern on the Green.

It was a humiliating, completely disappointing run.  And in that taxi ride, as I tried to come to terms with the run, I wondered if I should admit defeat and withdraw from this year's NYC Marathon.  But at the same time, I was somewhat encouraged.  This was my first real run after two weeks of very little running, and I did manage to do 17 miles.  My knee felt fine for the first 10 miles, which is such a huge difference from just a week ago, when I couldn't even run two miles without pain.  And I'm guessing that part of the reason I ran out of steam during the run was because I had one or two too many beers the night before at Coach Rachel's housewarming party.  (Damn you, Rachel!)

Post Blue Line Run (Photo by Ted Paszek)

So right now, I have mixed feelings about the marathon.  I still haven't decided if I'm going to go through with it.  But I've gone running since Sunday, and my knee feels pretty good.  My plan is to run one more long run this weekend, 20 or 22 miles, and see how I feel.  If I can finish it and feel good, I'll do the marathon.  If not, then I guess it's just not going to happen for me this year.  It would be really disappointing, but I'm not going to force it if it isn't in the cards.  Besides, I've never been a spectator for the NYC Marathon, and I've never worked the FRNY Water Station at Mile 24, so watching the marathon could be fun too.  I guess I'll see how this weekend's run goes.

*                                *                                *

Sunday after the Blue Line Run, I went over to Mike Terry's house to help him cook dinner for some of the runners who were coming over.  We decided to make soul food because it is sooooul delicious.  :-)

We made "fried" chicken, mac and cheese, sweet potatoes and collard greens.  The fried chicken was actually oven baked, but it was nice and crispy because we made a crust of crushed seasoned cornflakes.  I bought whole chickens which we had to butcher ourselves.  I've butchered hundreds of chickens before, but I've never been really good at it.  And I always end up leaving the oysters hanging on the carcass, which is the best part.  Mikey was cringing at how much meat I was wasting.  But I don't really mind since I usually freeze the carcass for soup at a later date, and a little extra meat on the bones makes the soup taste good.

Mikey made the mac and cheese, which was delicious.  I need to get the recipe from him.  The collard greens and the sweet potatoes were pretty simple, though.  I found some smoked ham pieces at Western Beef that I was able to add to the greens, and I put in a touch of brown sugar and vinegar.  For the sweet potatoes, I cut them up into little medallions, mixed them with the juice and zest of an orange, some salt pepper and more brown sugar, and baked.  I love the freshness that orange zest provides.  Yumm.

*                                *                                *

After Sunday's disastrous run, I was able to cheer myself up by registering for next year's Boston Marathon.  Registration opened at 9am on Monday.  After several attempts to get through the BAA's servers, I was able to register around 10:30.  Unfortunately, the race filled up at 5:03 Monday evening, so a lot of people who were planning to register didn't get in.  I'm kind of bummed about this, since part of the reason last year's Boston was so much fun was that there was a big group of Front Runners there (16 of us running, with lots more cheering).  I'm definitely going to miss being part of a big group this year.  To the Front Runners who qualified for Boston but weren't able to register, you guys are a huge inspiration to me, and I'm going to run the best race I can run in your honor.

Heart and Soul

I went to my appointment with Dr. Jordan Metzl on Monday.  I got x-rays of my butt, hips, pelvis and left ankle.  Apparently I have no fractures.  Instead, he diagnosed me with a "weak butt."  I got a prescription for 6-8 weeks of physical therapy.  Dr. Metzl said I could continue running during this time.

At first, I was considering not going to the physical therapy.  Butt exercises are pretty straightforward, and I probably get plenty of that from all of the warrior poses they do at Yoga to the People.  But I checked out the website of the physical therapist, and it seems like the guy in charge there really knows about runners' injuries.  Michael Conlon, the lead physical therapist, has run 14 marathons, including three Boston Marathons, and also completed two Ironmans.  On top of that, he coaches the NYC chapter of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Team in Training.  So I think he'll be a good person to talk to about my butt.  I'll keep you updated.

Monday was a rest day.  Instead of running or Yoga, I took a walk to Western Beef.  My favorite thing about Western Beef is that in the evenings around 7:30ish, they mark down their rotisserie chickens to $2.99.  I'll sometimes buy a few, and portion them out for lunch for the rest of the week.  Or I'll take the breast meat and make a delicious Chinese peanut butter and mustard chicken salad (it's tastier than it sounds).  I often save the bones to make stock.

I was happy to see that on this night, there were plenty of $2.99 rotisserie chickens left.  I decided to pair one up with some soul food inspired sides.  My friend Serenity was with me, and she said she would cook some collard greens (she's from North Carolina; they know their collards there).  I had some white rice left over from chicken curry night last week, so I figured I could use that to make a black-eyed peas and rice side.

Serenity suggested we buy some applesauce to tie everything together.  I gasped at her proposal to buy applesauce...why on earth would you buy flavorless, industrial grade, preservative-laden applesauce when we can just make our own.  So I got a variety of apples to show her how easy it would be.

Serenity's collard greens came out fantastic.  She said she ideally would have put in some bacon for extra flavor, but my bacon was lost somewhere in the deep black hole that is my freezer, so we skipped it.  Being from the South, Serenity likes to cook her vegetables to death.  I would have stopped at this point when there were still bright green and delicious looking.  But hers were actually better.

The peas and rice I made was so simple I'm almost embarrassed.  I just sauteed some garlic and onion, and then dumped in a can of black-eyed peas and my leftover rice.  I added a couple of spoonfuls of Goya recaito (a cilantro-based sauce), salt and pepper, hot sauce, and a ladle full of leftover pot roast juice.  It turned out quite good.

I think the biggest surprise of the night was my applesauce.  I blended together three different varieties of apples, added some cinnamon, nutmeg, ground cloves, and brown sugar.  The granny smith apple that I used gave it a fun tartness that is maybe better characterized as an "apple chutney" than applesauce, but but it was super tasty, and brought all of the different flavors together. 

Run, Cook, Eat, Drink, Live.

I think recovering from my marathons is going to take a little longer than I had hoped.

Saturday morning was my second run after NYC.  My first run, on Wednesday, felt pretty good.  I had only done 3 miles, but didn't feel any discomfort (other than tired legs, which I would have expected three days after a marathon).  My plan was to rest for a few more days, and do the full 6 mile loop Saturday morning.

That didn't quite go as planned.  Pretty much as soon as I started, I felt there was an issue with my left ankle, which I didn't feel at all on my run just a few days prior.  I originally intended to just tough it out, since I was running so slowly anyway and didn't think it would be a problem.  But about a mile and a half into my run, I realized I was limping.  I turned off of E. 85th Street and decided just to run around the top of the Reservoir instead, reducing my run to 4 miles.  During those last two miles, I ended up walking twice and jogging the rest of the way.  It was a little disappointing, but I really wasn't terribly upset since it was clear that my body just needed some more time to recuperate.  At this point I'm thinking I will take this week easy--maybe just running a few miles on Wednesday and doing some cycling or yoga on the other days.

After the fun run, I went with Derek to the Cook Eat Drink Live, a food and wine festival that was being held this weekend in NYC.  The event took place at The Tunnel on 28th Street.  Going there brought back some memories of my crazy clubbing days, a dozen years or so ago, dancing at the Tunnel's Saturday night Kurfew party full twinky candy ravers.  The line getting into the food festival reinforced these memories, as it snaked from 28th Street, down 11th Avenue, and ending in the middle of the 27th Street block.

It was worth the wait, though. Upon entering the space, we were confronted with hundreds of stands offering free samples from NYC restaurants, wine producers, gourmet food purveyors.  There were also live cooking seminars and demonstrations by celebrity chefs, cookbook authors, expert mixologists and the like.  We had planned to go check out a seminar or two, but pretty much spent our entire three hours there stuffing our faces with food and drink.  I discovered that I'm not a big fan of Cabernet Franc, and that Derek can drink Riesling all day.  And Fragoli strawberry liqueur is gross.

The best part of the day, of course, was just eating all of the samples.  There were too many good ones to list, but my favorite was Spoonbread Too Restaurant, a soul food joint that I've actually been meaning to check out.  Their "sample" plate included collard greens, mac and cheese, peas and rice, fried fish, and a huge, juicy barbecued chicken wing.  Derek didn't really care for the chicken wing and he thought I liked the food only because they gave us the most.  I ate his leftover wing.

While we were waiting in line to get to the Spoonbread table, we passed the Eileen's Special Cheesecake table, so of course we couldn't resist.  They were giving out these cute little bite-sized cheesecakes, so we grabbed a little cherry one and split it.  It was so good that we had to grab a blueberry one too and split that one.  Yummmm...  They sell a mini-cheesecake, which looks like it's plenty for two or three people to split for dessert, for only $3.50 in their store in NoLita.  I think that's so much of a better deal than a dinky little cupcake somewhere else.  And cheesecakes, I think, are the quintessential New York dessert.

The one bad thing about the festival was the entree items and the desserts were all together, so it felt like we were having a million little meals back-to-back-to-back.  My favorite post-dessert appetizer, then, was a green papaya salad they were serving at the Planet Thailand table.  The salad was very assertively spiced, in a way that trendy Thai places usually do not.  I remember going to their restaurant, in Chelsea, many years ago but had forgotten about them.  After eating this salad, I'm thinking of giving them another try.  (It also helps that their website has a coupon for a free glass of wine or cocktail.)