London Marathon Training Week 3 - got a PR!

Saturday was the first of 3 "tune-up" races, a 5k (3.1 miles) race in Regents Park.  

Week 3

I ran a personal best (PB) or personal record (PR) of 31:17! Woohoo! I had a single three-pronged strategy: 

• go as fast as I could
• have negative splits
• finish as close to 30 min as possible.

It's not much of a strategy, to be honest.  I did go as fast as I could. I got a stitch in my right ribs toward the end. I got some negative split: my second mile was faster than my first mile, and my third mile was slower than my second but faster than my first. And 31 minutes and change...that's close enough to 30 minutes. I won or, as Coach Clare declared, "you bossed it!" I actually quite surprised myself. 

Week 3 was kind of a mini-taper. No cycling at all, just the easy running I've been doing the previous two weeks. The new thing was the race instead of the 90 min long run. Coach Clare suggested I do a 16 minute warm-up ahead of the race. I've seen others do that and I tend to think, why waste all my energy on warm-up? But actually after doing a little research, and having experienced that, I can see what the point is. 

First, done right it doesn't waste energy - it helps you get into the right mind space and is a reminder of what fast legs feel like. You don't start from the line with cold legs. I've read that if you do this pre-race warm-up too early then you doing gain the benefit of doing it, because that benefit doesn't last long.  I picked a sweet spot about 30 minutes before the race, which I knew would give me enough time to do that and hit the toilets. Anxiety-pee, or (sing it with me, Mel!) "it's my High Anxie-Pee!"

It was funny to hear the race announcers saying "save your legs, you don't need to run before you cross the start line" which, actually, is counter to this whole think of getting your legs moving and warm. Although, there was an organized calisthenics warm-up session in the field before the race. 

I love Regents Park. It's beautiful and it is where the majority of my running took place when we first moved to London - we lived one street away, and the Outer Circle is almost exactly 5k. The race criss-crossed inside the park, where there are undulating paths, football and rugby pitches, ponds, bridges, a university, tennis courts, formal and informal gardens, an open air theater, and a zoo. Every year there is the Frieze outdoor sculpture exhibit, which we missed last year due to October lockdown. I love all of it. 

London Marathon Training - Weeks 1 and 2

No, no preamble. Just gonna jump right in. 

These first two weeks of training for the London Marathon have been foundation training. In Training Peaks, the app my coach uses to guide my training, it's referred to as Base 1. 

Yes, I have a coach. I hired a coach to get me to my goal race! Yes, it's expensive. I want to do this right because I am a bit prone to injury and she can help me make sure I'm at least doing the right things at the right time. Also, all the running and racing I've ever done since I started running seven years ago has been really casual and cavalier. So, I'm trying to be a little bit more focused and serious about this - or, at least less glib. Right. Anyway, the objective is I can make it to race day without hurting myself and I can finish the distance. I'm running in the Virtual version of the race, not the mass in-person version. 

I have always thought that there was a 6-hr time limit on the race, but I found out that isn't true. 7pm is the cut-off. The official start time is 9:30am, and if you hit the start line by 10am or even 10:30 am, that's still 8.5 hours! My original reason for embracing the virtual event was so I wouldn't have to stress over finishing within 6 hrs, and I missed the ballot entry completely. Coach Clare and I agree that a realistic finish for me will be 6:30. I still have to do it on the day everyone else does and I'll wear my official bib on my LDN 2021 shirt and I'll use the official app, so by all intents and purposes It's Official. Finishers T-shirt and medal come via mail :-) 

Week 1

Week 1 was weird. It was weird having someone essentially watching over my shoulder every cycle ride and every run and every rest.  I feared judgement. I feared disappointing my coach. I feared disappointing myself - did I even have any expectations? Ya, my expectation was to make my coach proud. Come on. Week 1.  Seriously? It was nerves. And when I am nervous I get stupid and glib and I say moronic things. 

I made it through Week 1 and learned a few things about myself. I could run 6 days a week and it didn't finish me. I could run a 90-min session all in heart rate zone 2 , and it was a lot harder than the 2-hour+ runs I'd done previously. Coach Clare suggested that I find a couple of races I could do along the way between now and October 3. I already had one lined up for September 4th. I chose a 5k in Regents Park for July 10, and a 10k in Clapham Common for August 15.

The Saturday long run was long. Actually, it wasn't, it was only 90 minutes but it felt long. It was the first time I thought, oh no, really? It's only 6 miles - why did that feel like 9?

Week 2

Week 2 was somewhat less weird. I can comment on each training session and Coach Clare comments back, via the Training Peaks app. So, I experimented with how and what I wanted to comment. I imagined her rolling her eyes over my random thoughts. I attended a weekly athletes Zoom meet-up. Do what? Athletes? Actually, they are all quite nice and just like me but it's a social situation so naturally I hear myself coming across like a know-nothing eee-deee-ott (ahem. idiot). 

My cycling is done on a Peloton bike. Until now I've been happily choosing my almost-daily spin class from my favorite instructors on the platform - Matt, Christine, Sam, and sometimes others. The classes typically follow a formula of warmup, some challenging sections (not INTERVALS, just intervals) followed by less challenging sections, and it averages out to a certain amount of time in a cycling power zone. This week, I am doing "Just Ride" spins where I essentially Do My Own Thing where the platform records my metrics (hr, power, cadence, etc). The Thing I'm doing is 30 minutes in power zone 2. Every day. Boring. The instructors are exciting. No instructors is not exciting. It's like going back to the stationary bike at the gym. I'm being a little dramatic, that's fair. Because, actually, I get to listen to some of my favorite podcasts and my choice of music on Spotify. But...

I do the rides in the morning, the running at my lunch hour, and the long run Saturday morning. This week's long run was a new route starting from Cassiobury Park in Watford and going north along the Grand Union Canal for 90 minutes. I knew this would put me roughly between Kings Langley and Apsley, at the end of 90 min so I would have a 30 min walk after I finished running. I think I would do this route again, it's very pretty, but I would stay on the canal tow path all the way to Evans Wharf, instead of exiting up to street level at Nash Mills Lane, which Google maps advised. The street level route to the Apsley train station is an unpleasant walk along a major road with a narrow sidewalk. Lots of traffic, nothing scenic. On the plus side of this, though, the day was forecast to be rainy and it wasn't - it was sunny and warm and I was glad to have the sun mostly off my right flank the entire way. 

With this buzz cut I've noticed that, without hair to hold the moisture, a hat or visor is absolutely essential for keeping the sweat out of my eyes.  Also important for preventing sunburn on my scalp. 

Am I doing anything else? Hardly. We're near the end of the remainder of lock down restrictions so we don't really go anywhere much. The office isn't fully open yet - we have to schedule ourselves if we're going to be in, and desks are 2 meters apart, yet we can hug. Sunday is Our Day Out. Today we're going to hike from Hampstead to Covent Garden, see a Banksy exhibit, and eat lunch at BrewDog. Above all we're going to avoid going anywhere near Wembley Park and all the Euro 2020 fuss and bother. England v Italy. Go England! 

I am finally finishing a weaving project I began well before lockdown so I can proceed with a weaving project I planned well before lockdown. I have no rational excuse for not using lockdown time to get ahead of weaving projects. Lots of irrational excuses, though. We're going to draw a line under it and move on.

Lockdown. Shit. 

Because...Lasagne

From 2015, I never got around to posting this.

Lately, though, dairy has been more unfriendly than usual to my gut so we haven't made this recently. Definitely time to make the sauce again, though, because it is soooo good.

---

Many friends are aware that Kent and I follow a strictly (or almost strictly) no-sugar-no-grains approach to food. Kent follows more of a strictly Paleo diet that I do but at home you won't find one speck of rice, wheat, etc, in our cupboard. We allow ourselves to wander off the reservation, so to speak, under certain circumstances - say, when waffles are on offer at Chris & Irene's, or for a tasting menu at fancy-pants starred restaurant. Let's be clear: we don't have allergies. I have a few sensitivities, and we have made lifestyle choices - and we choose to ignore them when confronted with something like Michel Roux's menu a couple of weeks ago because we can afford, and choose, to not substitute ingredients. 

This is all just to say: we have made choices, and pasta-in-it's-gorgeous-semolina-goodness has been absolutely verboten. I love pasta in all it's forms. Flat, ruffled, stuffed. And I've found a substitute for flat thanks to three special people. Long-ish story. Settle in, chaps.

Special Person #1: Mom, who introduced me to zucchini-noodle lasagne during her visit last year and started me on this adventure of reintroducing ragu back into our world. Slicing up zucchini is a great option! For my taste, it has to be roasted first to dry it out a bit. We have such a tiny oven that this really does take several rounds of roasting. The zucchini shrivels up so you have to do quite a lot to get the right amount for a proper lasagne. 

Special Person #2: TS, a lovely woman who was my first real friend here in London, introduced me to a few of her favorite places in Camden. One of them was a vegetable shop, Parkway Produce (Parkway Greens? I can never see the writing on the awning), has 95% fresh produce and 5% other. There are veg I've never laid eyes on in this place. They supply local Camden restaurants with goods. They are constantly moving, busy, boxing up produce, unboxing produce. Best prices on unwaxed lemons in town. Best looking lemons in town. Best lemons in town. Anyway, TS told me about celeriac. Whaaaa? I've never used it. She gasped and said "Oh, you MUST try it. Such a lovely mild flavor. Mash it or slice it into matchsticks and put it into salad." (Note: right across the street from The Tiniest Whole Foods Ever)

Special Person #3: Mark Sisson, of Mark's Daily Apple. A few days after this discovery of Parkway Produce, I was reading on Mark's website about his version of lasagne, where he uses celeriac (celery root). 

Hm. This obviously got me thinking about how I could change up my lasagne. I make my own bolognese sauce for it, a riff on two sauces in Stanley Tucci's family cookbook, so I'm already spending a great deal of time on that. I didn't like how much more time the zucchini takes to roast. Celeriac, eh? Great big monster of an ugly root. You have to carve the outside off. It's very firm and a little difficult to slice, but easier than a butternut squash. Mark parboils 1/8" slices in batches of four or so - whatever fits in the pan, so that's what I did. Worked great! Made BEAUTIFUL if somewhat wonky "noodles" for lasagne. I did a crappy cutting job - very uneven - but DH loved it. It has just the right consistency - firm enough to layer but soft enough to cut through with a fork. But oh mercy standing in front of the stove parboiling slices of celeriac...MANY slices of celeriac...in my tiny galley kitchen...not my favorite thing to do. But I did it a few times because...lasagne! Then I read somewhere about steaming it. Maybe on the BBC food website. Maybe somewhere else. 

Okay, what the heck, I try that. 

Success! I can steam half a head of celeriac slices at a time! Woohoo! And, I can steam another set of slices to freeze for next time. Oh, yes by the way, it freezes lovely. Thaw it in the fridge for a day, use it in lasagne that night or the next day. Yummy.

Fine, it isn't the best photo but it's in a proper big American Pyrex casserole dish,
you know what I'm talking about.

Then Kent ponders: "I wonder if we can spiralize it and use it as...spaghetti?" Well, shit yes that actually works too. Steam a head of spiralized celeriac for about 9 minutes, drain it, salt it, cover it with sauce and sprinkle with parmesan. It works. You could just boil them in salted water, too, and it would work just fine. I've read that it's good to add a little lemon juice to prevent it from going brown (might be for storage in fridge) but that hasn't been a problem for me. That spiralizer we bought two years ago has finally come in handy. 

There is almost nothing better than a big plate of spaghetti with homemade bolognese and sprinkled with fresh parmesan cheese after a run (you knew I had to mention that somewhere, right?) - made with ingredients that are consistent with our dietary choices.

Life is good. 

The Skirt, Part 1

This story is as much about sewing as it is about weaving. It is possibly even more about project planning. The things I learned, since I am not an expert sewist, were decidedly in the planning and sewing stages. I found the weaving to be easiest with one glaring exception (the beat) and which I didn’t especially appreciate until it was too late.

This project was driven by a long-standing desire to construct my own clothing. I wasn’t interested in making any political statements or return to some mythic “simpler time” but rather more practical reasons: I’m 5’1” with bust, waist, and hips, and finding well-fitted clothing is a challenge from both a height and shape perspective. As every woman who is shaped outside the normal distribution knows, the off-the-rack clothing industry doesn’t design garments for curvy women.

I was first seduced by a sexy deflected doubleweave (DDW) pattern I found in a back edition of Handwoven. I had to try it but it was a few years before the stars aligned and I had enough nerve to potentially waste some of my precious Jaggerspun Zephyr wool/silk blend fiber. My first attempt went brilliantly right up until I sent it through my front-loading washer, thinking it was gentle enough. The result was beyond disappointing: it shrunk from 7’ x 11” scarf size to 3’ x 6”cravat size. It’s a very warm cravat and I actually do wear it on the very coldest days of the year. Lessons learned! But, I knew what to do – and what not to do – to wet finish this piece of work. I played with color combinations and generally had a lot of fun with discovery.

A year or two before this first experiment with DDW, a very close friend and the woman who played Robin to my Batman -- let’s call her Kerry because that is her real name -- one day tossed four cones of 20/2 cashmere in I my direction and commanded me to weave her something beautiful in dark blue, dark green, burgundy, and ivory. At the time, more than two colors scared me and I promptly parked that beautiful fiber in the stash. The cones followed me on a move to England where they sat in a project box for 18 months.

Back to the future: You get a lot of time to think while you are weaving and I just knew that the DDW pattern would be the right one for her and something she wouldn’t weave for herself. In part because it’s too fiddly and in part because I have more shafts at my disposal and my pattern requires eight. In a moment of inspiration I drew a fifth color from my stash, a BFL/silk blend, hand-dyed by Cheryl at Sonoran Desert Dyed Fiber and I found a way to mix the yarns into a plaid-ish DDW. That first DDW was only three colors. Now I had five!!

Fast forward a few weeks and voila: I was cutting off an beautiful DDW scarf from the loom which I vigorously wet finished by hand. It was fine enough to double over as a scarf without creating bulk. I road tested it around town and took an action picture of it near Tower Bridge.

I was satisfied that as a scarf it was brilliant. I wanted one of my own.  Nonetheless, the scarf went to Kerry, the majority owner of the fiber content; an 18” sample went to Cheryl so she can show off what her fiber could do. We even entered that scarf in competition at Maryland Sheep & Wool and got second prize in the category, and I agreed with the judges comment that it was still a little flimsy. It needed a closer sett and another round of hand-fulling.

Next time: Part 2, Planning the yardage and selecting a skirt pattern

Returning

No, not to the US, sorry Kerry & Cheryl & Mom!

Returning to the blog. It's had a long nap. Also returning to Complex Weavers, my membership now renewed. I miss my extended tribe of weavers, spinners, and fiber enthusiasts. In renewing my membership, I joined the Designing Textile study group. It's led by a weaver I have a lot of admiration for, and it's membership is comprised (to my delight) of some wonderful weavers. I'm excited to be in their company. I approach this as designing textiles for a purpose. My purpose has been for clothing, and I've promised to write up my first adventure in weaving cloth for clothing. Stay tuned.

We spent time in Montana last week visiting my husband's cousin on her organic farm. We did very touristy stuff: horseback riding (wonderful, and came away with sore sit bones!), fly fishing from a boat on the Bitterroot River (more of this, please), hiking up to Blodgett Overlook Trail (longer but less arduous and not as high as hiking up Mt. Teide). My sister-in-law Leslie and I ran the Lake Como trail, though I would have to categorize it more as run-walk-stumble-wade through running water. It's about 8 miles, really beautiful with some drop-dead gorgeous waterfalls, but we were there after a week of heavy rains so it was wet. The trail itself was mainly rocky, at times was a small stream, lots of large puddles, and in one case washed out by a small waterfall which we had to walk through. Also, we were admittedly a little anxious about meeting bears. We didn't, but toward the end of the trail we started hearing things and we were completely soaked and ready to be done!

Also in Montana I attended a pipe ceremony. This isn't something I'd normally sign up for but it was scheduled on the farm to celebrate solstice. So, when in Rome (Hamilton, actually)...I'm proud to say that my urbanite self wasn't entirely closed off to the ideas shared and the woo-woo nature of the entire thing and I found myself hit with inspiration for the 2018 study group topic ("write about a specific object or experience that has inspired you to transfer it into your own weaving, and how you translated it"). So in the middle of this pipe ceremony, the smudge smoke told me it was the object of my inspiration.  I wasn't high, it was just sage mixed with some other grassy/herby stuff, nothing hallucinogenic, and the smoke didn't actually say anything. But it was while each person in the circle was being "blessed" and I was staring into the smoke coming from that smudge stick thing that it popped into my head that the smoke and the objects on the "alter", for lack of a better description, should be my inspiration. And to be fair to the ceremony, it was a strong inspiration and there was absolutely no doubting it. 

I jumped on it right away the next morning in my journal, jotting ideas. In fact, I think the finished textile really popped into my head already formed; the brainstorming is mainly about how I'm going to execute it. 

As with all things, I'm limited by the width of my loom, so nothing goes on wider than 20". Technically, I'm also limited to 8 shafts but the ground cloth structure can be a "simple" plain or twill weave, and I sketched this on the plane coming home. It's the smoke that is the complicated part, and I've been googling this for inspiration on how to incorporate it. It needs to give a sense of lightness and movement, of dancing across the cloth.  I want to see curves. Supplemental warp, damask, inked images on the warp before weaving, ribbon sewn onto the warp after weaving - these are all potential approaches and all are on the table, even the damask if I were to construct a drawloom-thing. It's not out of the question. At the moment my browser is full of tabs on these topics. Today my running brain (the part that isn't putting feet to pavement to make sure I stay upright) will be put to work solving these design mysteries, and I've pulled out all my weaving books and CW Journal past issues for inspiration. As Fox Mulder says, the truth is out there. 

Right now, the dominant colors are dark grey and black/near black with occasional yellow (there was a guy in a bright yellow rain coat) and dark red (there was a dark red bandana on the "alter" which quite stood out against the greys and near-blacks), and then the light grey representing the smoke. 

I currently have two weaving projects wound into chains, but they'll just go in the weave queue. I don't want to put anything on the loom until after August 7, our move date. When I do put this project on the loom, it'll be a sample length proof of concept. Due in December, I have a few months to figure this out, weave/finish, and write about it. 

-E

It doesn't look like much

But it's a LONG way from St. John's Wood to Battersea Park and back. The rest of the running club ran 10 to Greenford via the Canal, but since I didn't have that "I know where the public toilets are" peace of mind, and this was an important run for me, I elected a route I've done before. The first time I did it, though, I only went 9 miles, then bussed the remainder back home. This time...I did the whole enchilada and I'm completely thrilled beyond words. And my calves ARE SO SORE.

Two days after this run, on March 11, I massacred something in my hip (it was my glute medius tendon at my hip joint) after only 3 miles and it stopped me dead in my tracks. I was devastated! The first two weeks I couldn't walk without a cane. The next two weeks-ish that followed was an enjoyable and relaxing tour through Denmark and Norway with my brother and his family. There was a lot of relaxing, self-massage, and kinesiology tape involved. Fortunately for me, The Nieces walk slowly so I was saved the embarrassment of being THE slowest one. I was only the slowest some of the time. That trip is a whole post on it's own to come. At any rate, then I came back and started a tiny bit of running and met with a doc and had an MRI done to make sure there wasn't a stress fracture. He injected the tendons with corticosteroid last Friday and I tried to take it easy over the weekend. That stuff stings.

I'm absolutely terrified of going too far too soon, which is probably the thing that got me in trouble in the first place. I had doubled my weekly mileage, quickly, instead of going with a slow steady increase. The urge to "keep up with the gang" is strong. I also didn't allow myself enough rest.

This is now a running reboot, and today I did 3 miles without pain using Jeff Galloway's run-walk-run approach. So far, so good. Will I be able to do the Hackney half-marathon next month, which I paid for the day of my wonderful 10-miler? To be completely honest, probably not. Right now, ten more miles of this morning's run - without pain - doesn't seem possible. There's always the Royal Parks Half this autumn, for which I will shortly be begging for donations. It's a lot further off, and offers enough time to do the slow steady increase I need.

In other news, I made that ivory warp my bitch.

I know that sentence only makes sense to a weaver, but I stand by it. I measured out 12 yards of warp using miscellaneous natural-colored natural fibers from stash, then tied it on to the previous honeycomb-threaded warp, got the little knots through the heddles with less breakage than anticipated, and started winding the little bugger onto the warp beam. I got several yards on before I gave up on that insanity. Kerry's first warp was 12 yds. It, too, was insanity. I was there for it and I don't know how she did it. Also, I ran out of packing sticks.

This warp turned out to be fiddly in a way that I loathe. I did the weaving in this image before my hip went wonky. After the wonky, I had to reduce my weaving to more plain weave so I could use one leg (right) on the two plain weave treadles. The first section is approximately 20 inches. The next section is also about 20 inches, but I included some weft inlay for fun. But that's not the fiddly part. The fiddly part is having my warp threads break so regularly!! The warp beam is so decorated with cones it looks like a Christmas tree. If I only have fifteen minutes to weave, I don't want to spend five of it messing with broken warp threads. I've decided on the use for this warp, though, and it's to be a gift so I can't show anymore of it. 

I also used some mill ends that are lovely in a weft but complete rubbish as warp. Very breaky-breaky. I also used a bit of Lopi which would be beautiful in a weft but it's just not strong enough for warp, and it frays like crazy. My plan all along had been for a rustic monochrome weave and to use up odds and ends that have been in the stash for some time, and I've succeeded. It's rustic. It's monochrome. I used odds and ends. It will make lovely whatchamacallits (I'm not saying). I think I'm the "get it on the loom and go" type of weaver, though. The inlays are fun and pretty, just little random blocks of colors, but they slow things down a great deal. 

I know what is going onto the loom next and I think I'll start measuring it out this week. Mwahaha. Another secret!

Can We Be Frank?

(Yes, and don't call me Frank.)

(Yes, it's not perfect but I had to do it.)

(Also, fair warning: topic is about gross and disgusting things today, like poop)

There is something that I never hear other runners talk about in polite company, but many of us (and especially those of us with digestive disorders) have experienced: running-induced gastrointestinal distress. Diarrhoea, as it is spelled here in Sunny England. By the way, this is where you should either stop reading or carry on at your own risk. 

Some of my running pals have probably dealt with it at one time or another. We don't really discuss it. I carry a small pack of anti-diarrhoeal on every run, especially runs greater than 6 miles. Just in case. Primarily for myself but I'm happy to share if anyone else should find themselves in a pickle, because I know what it's like. If I get hit, however, I'm sidelined until the anti-diarrhoeal du jour kicks in. For me that's about 90 - 120 minutes. Most recently this happened on a hill run and I camped out at the O2 "mall" on Finchley Road for almost two hours before I was able to finish the run. 

IBS-related diarrhoea is another story altogether. I can usually tell shortly after my first sip of coffee in the morning if I'm going to have an issue during the first few miles of my run - or before. Once or twice I've been surprised, but most of the time my gut lets me know. No two IBS sufferers are alike: coffee doesn't bother my gut. 

For me, running-induced diarrhoea is compounded by IBS, and it's more likely to occur if I've eaten something questionable within 24 hrs of the run. There is generally a small window of opportunity if I'm going to be nutritionally naughty - by which I mean, for example, eating anything with yeast, grains, or chocolate. On the other hand, I'm not bothered by my gels which contain a small amount of cocoa. There are certain combinations of foods that I've just discovered my gut doesn't prefer. Eggs + Xylitol are a problem. 

These days I do have the luxury of waiting it out. No job to get to (yet), and today no appointments. It's a game of trial and error. I've landed on a nutritional approach that seems to work for me 90% of the time although I think I need to tweak it again. I know where most of the clean public bathrooms are on my run routes. Today was supposed to be a track run and fartleks in Regent's Park. It still can be and I'll tackle it on my own because my gut just wasn't ready when the club run was scheduled this morning.

Maybe now it's safe to leave the flat...

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UPDATE on the presentation for Company Not Named: they elected to go with someone else. There were eight (!!!) people in that presentation, not including myself, and the feedback I received from the recruiter was that the majority felt my perspective was too "big business." I just shake my head. Fine. There were two red flags that popped up that day in the prep meeting with COO and HR.

• Red Flag 1:  The focus of the role would not in fact be the integration of the three software platforms they'd been talking about throughout the interview processes, but basic management software and platforms internally. Wait, whaaaaat? I had prepped myself for a month on the former! 
• Red Flag 2: The COO had not briefed the folks in the room about the scope of the role, which kept getting bigger and bigger. Tieing up eight high level people to be on a panel interview for an hour without briefing them IN ADVANCE on the scope of the role, and giving them a chance to ask questions of the COO themselves, is a huge miss and a waste of everyone's time, including mine.  

I have mixed feelings about not getting this job but it was probably a good thing they thought I didn't have enough small business perspective. But dammit. Lessons learned. 

What does pork smell like?

Well, not much, turns out. Not ground pork, anyhow. No wonder there are mass quantities of seasonings in the meatloaf cooking away in the oven. Pork mince (in Brit parlance). Onions. Shrooms. With bacon on top.

Ah. Bacon. Bacon. A perfect food. Everything is better with bacon. I get Homer Simpson-drool going on when bacon is cooking. Today I put "lashings" of bacon on top of ground pork meatloaf or, as Nom Nom Paleo calls it, Super Porktastic Bacon-topped Spinach & Mushroom Meatloaf. Fun blog, awesome recipes, and oh damn I forgot the nutmeg. 

Crap, I forgot to add the nutmeg! I can't even blame my martini for that miss because that happened waaaay back before noon. And it's now waaaay past noon. Shoot. Well, probably it'll be okay without it. 

"Lashings." I don't really even know what that is but it is also a decidedly Brit word which seems to indicate some kind of schmear of something, or stripes or strips of something. On my meatloaf I have strips of bacon across the top, which I think qualifies as "lashings of bacon." Meh. 

I might forever associate this meatloaf with writing a presentation on what I can do for Company Not Named. Next week I am to do a panel interview (as in, the subject is ME and the panel is several of the company execs) in presentation (PowerPoint) mode. I'm not particularly thrilled and I'm totally anxious and the presentation isn't done and I'm pretty sure I've completely overthought this and I have one day to rework it before we go out of town. I want it DONE by the time we get on the train. So. Ugh. I keep asking myself "how badly do I want THIS specific job?" It happens that I'm a pretty good fit. But if, after all this, I don't actually GET the job, "do I want to bother continuing to look?" The first interview as January 14. Start date is April 1. 

So, pork smells like my presentation to Company Not Named. 

As Kerry says: le sigh.