This isn't exactly a super unique recommendation because there are Mellow Mushrooms all over the damn place but, let me tell you, if there is one near you, head there immediately and get a half order of the pretzels as your entree. Get the regular butter and kosher salt flavor and add a side of beer cheese.
One of the best things I've eaten in ages.
Oh, and if you're me, you'd probably add a draft beer to the side of those pretzels.
Last year, the Rahr & Sons Oktoberfest 5K was only my second 5K to finish, so it felt good to return to the course this past weekend and see if I could smoke my time. Last year, it rained the entire race (which I actually didn't mind) but this year it was the exact opposite: really sunny and really warm.
I've been training for my half-marathon with Kristie, but we're lucky to have other friends who run, too, and this group of ladies has dubbed itself the Running to Drink Team (fitting, right?). We run, we brunch, we laugh, we high-five. They're fantastic.
We even have our own signs bedazzled for us.
We all run at slightly different speeds, but Kristie and I took off at the start together. Pretty soon after that, though, she pulled ahead. It was hot, and I didn't want to force myself to go any faster than I could, especially not at first. I knew the run was going to end on a tough hill, so I tried to focus on that as I slowed down a little.
My initial goal was to finish under 33 minutes but not even a half-mile in, I didn't think that was going to happen. The sun! Oof, it was a bitch.
I somehow caught back up with Kristie around mile two, and that re-energized me to push on. On that last, horrible hill, I saw my friend's husband, holding the sign above, and it was then that Mumford & Son's "The Cave" came on, which pushed me over that hill, feeling pretty good.
Then, right at the finish, I saw Mike. All it took, and we finished strong!
Last year's time: 45:38 (a 14:41 mile)
This year's time: 31:17 (a 10:04 mile)
I shaved over 14 minutes off my time and over 4 minutes off my mile pace. I'm running another 5K this weekend (in addition to a five-miler) and I'm hoping to finish under 30 minutes, if the weather cooperates and everything else falls into place. Cross your fingers!
It was a hard but good run with an incredibly supportive group of friends around me. We headed to The Pour House afterward for oh-my-goodness-so-good food and cheap brunch-y drinks.
It was such a nice day.
(Well, until kick-off of the second half of the A&M game. Ouch.)
I grew up in San Francisco and have a definite liberal leaning, so it might surprise you to know that one of my absolute favorite things to do is go to a dusty, old, hole-in-the-wall bar, order an ice-cold bottle of Bud Light, and either two-step with someone who knows what they're doing (because I most certainly do not), or listen to a country music concert.
I got to do all these things last weekend.
We went to the pretty famous -- at least locally -- Billy Bob's, which is called the largest honky tonk in the world. Admittedly, I'm not even sure what that means, but the place was enormous, so I'm going to go ahead and believe them.
I even dressed like a hussy for the occassion.
That is an awfully short skirt for a nearly-30-year-old mother, I know, and I was more than a little self-conscious, but when we stepped inside the place, there were quite a few (dozens, really) of women much older than me wearing much less, and by much older I mean much older and by much I less I mean nearly illegal.
Honky tonk might just be a euphemism for something else entirely.
(Not that two short skirts make an appropriate wardrobe decision, but I felt better about pushing the dress-for-your-age envelope when I was around people who tore that envelope right up and then gave it the finger.)
Anyway, we were there to see Pat Green, who I was a big fan of back in college and whose music takes me right back to being 19 in that tiny little Texas town, and it was a lot of fun to be swept up in nostalgia for a night.
(If you want to take a listen, my favorite songs of Pat's are: "Nightmare," "Ruby's Two Sad Daughters," "#2," "Here We Go," "Threadbare Gypsy Soul," and "Galleywinter.")
It was a really fun night, and I kind of hope we'll go back, although Mike (not really the country music or two-stepping kind) would like to remind me that my year list made no mention of going twice, so we'll have to wait until 2012.
Today was a really glorious day, including a fancy brunch with my own mom, a long afternoon nap, flowers and take-out burgers, but Saturday was a really special kind of day, the kind of day I plan to look back on often, especially on Monday commutes or Friday afternoon conference calls (those should be illegal, but they're unfortunately not). It was just a perfect combination of events that lined up to give me such a sweet and memorable day, including Kyle being oh-my-goodness perfect and Mike ditching plans he had for weeks in order to take me out to do something I really wanted to do, go to Mayfest, a local festival.
We forgot the stroller and had to walk what felt like miles to get to the festival gates, and then what felt like miles more around the festival, and it was hot and super crowded, so I assumed we'd regret the entire thing an hour in, but there was no regret. Just sweet memories, a happy toddler holding tightly to my hand and riding happily on his dad's shoulders, and festival ice cream and snacks to top it all off.
Kyle turned to me, as we boarded a little train to ride around the festival toward the end of the day, and said, "Are you excited, Mommy?"
You have no idea, kid. No idea.
(I hope every mother out there had a beautiful weekend, too. Full of whatever it is that makes happiest: naps, mimosas, bad tv, festivals with your family, whatever. If you wanted it, I hope you got it. Because you deserve it. We all do.)
Cherie came to town for what felt like five minutes. I had to work (and so did she) so we really only had two nights to hang out. Two nights is not enough nights but we made the best of it. Both nights we walked from my house to my (small) town's Main Street and ate dinner.
This is us walking. You know, in case you couldn't visualize that yourself.
The first night, we had delicious pizza at Brix. The second ... sushi.
I know what you're thinking, "Why yes, small-town Texas is totally known for its delicious sushi!" Or maybe you're not thinking that at all. Hard to tell. Cherie was feeling brave, though, so sushi it was!
We were basically the only ones in the restaurant all night. That was the first sign.
Then, it took an hour to get our food. (Second sign.)
We had a sake bomb while we waited.
(I used to love these in college and having my college friend in town inspired me. I forgot you are supposed to chug them, though, so Cherie and I became the first people in the history of the world to order sake bombs and then sip them for the next half hour. Mom version of sake bombs!)
The third sign was our waiter, our crazy crazy waiter who's shirt read:
Clearly the dress code for this restaurant falls under the headline KLASSY.
So, the food and service was not top-notch.
But the company was.
(We convinced Kristie to tag along with us.)
Cherie's gone again, damn distance and geography. I hope to see her again soon. Until then, I'll go pout for a little while and then remind myself it's just a good thing I have these kinds of friends at all. Even if they live all the way over in TOO-FAR-FROM-ME-VILLE.
All Friday, Mike and I texted and emailed back and forth with things like It's Burger Day! WHO'S EXCITED ABOUT BURGERS! Although he wasn't nearly as excited as I was, he pretended well.
I kicked off our burger dinner with champagne as everyone should kick off burger dinners.
I only had half a glass but that's because we were on a schedule not because I couldn't have inhaled the whole bottle.
This is the diablo burger from Fred's. It's spicy but not too spicy. You should try it if you're ever in town. I could be biased because I went without meat for 12 (long) weeks but this was so damn delicious.
I only ate (about) half, which might have been more of an accomplishment than the previous 12 weeks.
It was a fun, fun night.
Hey, it's my birthday for another 34 more minutes!
(Actually, no, it's no longer my birthday because I got distracted after writing that one sentence and it's now 30 minutes past midnight, but yesterday was totally my birthday, friends!)
And I took the day off.
I'm sure there are roughly a million people out there who wished their birthday was January 3rd right around 10 p.m. on January 2nd, so they could have a reason to take off work the First Monday of the year. And it was probably the first time those same million people wished for such a horribly timed birthday, but I embraced the timing of my day this year and embraced the fact that Mike always has Mondays off, and I spent the day lounging on my couch, being doted on, hanging with my boys, and it was just so nice.
January is going to be batshit crazy for me, and when I get uber-stressed over a very long to-do list or uber-annoyed that I gave up alcohol and meat and sweets all at the same time that I decided to hit the gym hard, I'll look back on my birthday and exhale.
Because it was lovely. Lovely lovely lovely.
In addition to a day off, I celebrated my day in various different ways over the weekend, one of those ways being a fancy, girl's night out dinner.
It's been a dream of mine for years to go to a nice dinner, wearing a nice dress, with all my nice friends and just eat and drink and laugh and then maybe blow out a candle.
I got to do all these things at Brownstone (Top Chef restaurant, holla!) last night, and it was even better than I thought it would be.
Mike doesn't really like birthdays, which may surprise a few of you who watch me throw him elaborate parties every year, but he knows I love birthdays -- like probably more than anyone else you've ever known -- and even though I suspect he'd drop to his knees in gratitude if I woke up one day and said, "eh, birthdays don't really do it for me any longer," he still makes homemade frosting for my birthday cupcakes, lets me sleep in for days before and after it, makes me dinner, takes me wherever I want to go, and takes Kyle outside to play in the freezing cold so mama could have some alone time with her cooking magazines and her monthly menu.
To him and to all my friends who helped me celebrate and to my mom especially for various birthday-related items including THE GIFT OF LIFE, thank you for a perfect 29.
It's hard to hate aging when you get to celebrate it so well.
