Morton Pumpkin Classic 2013

Last weekend I ran the Pumpkin Classic 10k. I've been training for it since June. All my hard work has come to fruition. I guess.

We woke up at 4:30, ate breakfast, drank coffee, and hit the road for the hour and a half trip to Morton on the outskirts of the great prairie metropolis of Peoria. We didn't see much in the wee dark hours, but on the trip back, with the sun in the sky, we saw that this part of central Illinois has hundreds and hundreds of windmills. I think there are two large windfarms around the Bloomington area. I had never seen so many in my life.

Morton was a quaint little town. Over 1,800 runners descended on it like carb-loading, hamstring-stretching locusts that morning to participate in the 10k. Around 7:15, we crowded into the street, awaiting the starting gun.

Look:

Extra points if you find me.

Then we were delayed for half an hour when two cars collided in the race path. During this time, I had the opportunity to inspect the attire of my fellow racers. I found multiple heinous violations.

Race Shirts - It's common knowledge, or so I thought, that you don't wear the shirt of the race you're running in. Some say it's bad luck. Some say you haven't earned it yet. Either way, it's in poor taste. You can wear a shirt from a previous race as long as it's equal to or lesser than the race you're currently running. Don't wear a marathon shirt to a 10k. These are rookie mistakes, guys. 5k mistakes. This is a 10k. Time to get serious.

Compression Pants - If you are an adult male, you have no business running in public wearing compression pants. Or performance shorts. Or tights. I don't care what you call them or how cold it is. If your top layer is bulge-producing, it is not appropriate.

Here's a list those who don't want to see that:

• Women
• Other Men
• Children
• Dogs and Cats

iPods - The jingle of my dog's tags, the honking geese flying low formations over Mattis Lake, the wind through the Swamp Oaks, rumbling cars and barking dogs and yelling children, the Indian women gossiping while their husbands play cricket in the park, loud rap music from passing cars, the buzz of dive-bombing wood bees, the chatter of squirrels. The sound of the world around me is my favorite part of running. When you jam little ear buds into your auditory canals and crank up Eye of the Tiger, you're basically encapsulating the inside and taking it to the outside which completely negates the purpose of going to the outside to begin with. But, James, you say, I get bored on long runs. If the outside bores you, you're probably the kind of person who takes portable DVD players and laptops camping. You should buy Sweating to the Oldies or Tae Bo or Insanity. You should not go outside because you are wasting it. You don't need an iPod to run. You don't need a smart phone with an app that tells you how far you've run and automatically posts it to Facebook. It's one of the few moments in your day when you can get away from electronic devices.

Also, if you're very lucky and listen carefully when you're running a race, you might hear someone toot. And that's totally worth it.

Long story short: we finally got started. The temperature stayed in the 40s for most of the run and the track was fairly flat. I came in at 53:09:04. This run was very well organized. They had electronic chips to record your time. They had each mile marked with a sign and a volunteer calling out the current time so you could monitor your pace.

Also, they took video of the finish line. Let me just say, I hustled the last 50 yards or so and then had to slow down rapidly so I didn't end up in a doggy pile just across the finish line. So this is what I look like slowing down. I'm not usually this floppy.

Finish Line (I come onto the screen at 24:08.)

Of course you want to see the before-and-afters:

Here's how Aine takes pictures. She says, stand here where the sun is directly in your eyes. Now look normal. Why are you squinting?

They gave Dude a finishing medal. I haven't taken it off since.

The Pumpkin Festival looked like it would be the biggest festival I've ever been to. It had a street full of carnival style games, a dozen different rides, food tents, arts and crafts. Pretty much everything I've ever wanted from a festival. Unfortunately it didn't start for another few hours and we had to leave. As we left town, we saw cars trying to get into Morton for the parade and festival were backed up for two miles down the highway.

There wasn't much to capture photographically, but they did have some large pumpkins. If you know what I mean.

That night we celebrated the fact that I sweated, wheezed, and grunted for six point two consecutive miles without stopping by eating some Watermelon Shrimp Curry. Sounds gross doesn't it? It also looked a little gross in the pan, but this was totes delish.

We got the recipe from Jessie, but it originally comes from a book (Full of Flavor by Maria Elia). I suggest you try it while watermelons are still available. The original recipe called for squid and crab claws. We used shrimps. You could easily substitute chicken. Jessie modified the recipe a little before she passed it on and then I modified it a little from that. Below is the dish as I cooked it. If you want the complete un-muddled original, you can find it here.

Watermelon and Seafood Curry
Makes 4 servings.

Ingredients

• 1 personal watermelon, rind and seeds removed
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 yellow onion, finely chopped
• 2 inches fresh ginger, finely chopped
• 1 garlic clove, finely chopped
• 1 jalapeno
• 1 tbl dried lemongrass
• 1 tsp turmeric
• 2 tsp ground coriander
• 1 tsp cumin seeds
• 1/4 tsp of cayenne pepper
• 1 lb shrimp
• 1 bunch cilantro, finely chopped
• 1/4 tsp fish sauce
• 1 tbl lime juice

Instructions

1. Liquefy 3/4 of the watermelon in a blender or food processor until smooth. 
2. Cut the remaining watermelon into cubes and set aside.
3. Sautee the onion, ginger, and garlic until lightly browned. 
4. Add the jalapeno, lemongrass, and spices and cook until fragrant.
5. Add everything else, bring to a boil, then simmer for 20-30 minutes.
6. Serve over rice with flatbread.

For reals. Try it.

My dreams of eating pumpkin pie at the finish line of the 10k proved to be bitterly false. Then we left before any of the serious pumpkin dishes were sold. Aine promised to make me some pumpkin pie when we got home. Turns out, standing the in cold for fifty three minutes and nine seconds exacerbated the cold she had been fighting all week. We'll pencil that one into the lessons learned column.

As soon as she felt better (a week later), she made me both pumpkin pie and pumpkin bread. A little late, but very tasty.

And the moment we've all been waiting for finally arrived. The cheese matured.

We ate it on water crackers with summer sausage from Rhode Island. We know a guy.

The final product had a mellow flavor, which would have sharpened had I allowed it age longer, and it was a little less dry than I desired. Next time I'm going to let it air dry for longer than two days. Aside from that, it was good. My first Cheddar. Woot.

Party Like It's 1799

We spent our Labor Day morning in Arthur, deep in the heart of Illinois Amish Country, at the Arthur Cheese Festival.

Rat Race
We woke in the wee dark hours of the morning to drive south through the corn fields to Arthur. We arrived just before 7 am to check in, get our packets, and pin on our bibs. The packets, instead of coming in thin newspaper plastic, came in nifty, reusable canvas totes.

The goodies included our bibs, our shirts, advertisements for more 5k's (There's a night run through a cemetery in Decatur in October. Woot.), and the free cheese promised by the website. Only, here we found our first sign of trouble. The cheese wasn't local or even Amish. It came from Wisconsin.

We ran. Since Arthur has a sizable Amish population and the Amish only ride horse-drawn buggies and horses tend to poop all over the place, most of the roads in town (commercial and residential) were littered with horse poop. Most of the town had a faint livestock show smell to it. We're used to running the goose crap bespattered sidewalks of Mattis Park, so a neighborhoods crusted in former horse snacks didn't bother us.

We came in at 28:08. Look at us. Sweaty.

This was the best organized and executed of 5k's I've done. Painted arrows on the streets, high tech chips on our bibs (they had the results posted 30 minutes after the end of the race), it was a circuit instead of a turn around, huge inflatable arch over the finish line, water, oranges, and bananas for finishers. Top notch run.

Cheese Festival
We noticed in the main parking area for downtown, they had a buggy parking area.

Aine made friends with a sickly, underfed horse.

The vendor area took up most of downtown. Here's where we delved into the heart of Amish Culture.

To be honest, I was a little disappointed.

I'll grant that this was the final day of a three day festival. We left before noon so we missed out on the cheese eating contest and the curd spitting contest and the buggy rides. What disappointed me was The Merch. When you think Amish, you think home grown food and fresh milk and cheese and handmade pottery and woodworking and rocking chairs and things. So I came with a fat wad of poker winnings to blow on cool Amish stuff. Most of the booths, though, had cheap jewelry, inflatable toys, and Made in China Dollar Store grade crap you could pick up at any flea market. Also a lot of fried fair food.

There was one homemade cheese booth, one goat milk booth, a cool Amish crate/pallet booth (the only woodworking we found, but quality work), and some homemade licorice. The only pottery was imported from Poland (slip cast not wheel thrown). We saw a booth with stuffed pink zebras, another with hillbilly windchimes (a strip of wood with four empty beer cans tied to it), some knitting, and let me tell you, Arthur is still abuzz about the magnetic bracelets. You can find more quality, handmade wares at the Farmer's Market in Urbana.

We did see a local beekeeper selling honey.

A fair amount of quiltage.

Also, a camel. Go figure.

I wanted to get more pictures of the folks in their Mennonite hats and beards, but it somehow seemed a little disrespectful to snap pictures of them like zoo animals. We didn't hear anyone speaking Pennsylvania Dutch, which is actually German, because the word Deutsche confused 19th century Americans. They were all very friendly, though. I saw a couple women in Mennonite dresses, bonnets, bibs, and running shoes which means they ran three point one miles in that attire.

We did splurge and buy a homemade soy candle because it smelled good and we liked the little spongeware dish it came in. Except it was made by some guy from a town just north of Bloomington.

So, Cheese Fest. A little bit of a let down. Arthur was a quaint little town and I wouldn't mind going back to peruse the Amish stores on Main Street sometime when they aren't blocked by vendors from Cincinnati on the festival circuit. We did enjoy the run. And the Wisconsin Colby.

How Sweet It Is

Urbana Sweet Corn Festival 2013
We did it again. It was so hot this year. I think we hit 85 degrees mid-day. Sweat was had by all.

Of course, the Motor Muster was there again.

Aine said, let's get a picture of the one with dead children in the back.

Instead of the old timey bus, this year they had a sweet Woody. Wait, what did I just say?

I scoured the streets for a 50s model Chevy Bel Air. I finally found one. Not the color I would have chosen, but it was the only one there.

Then we had to walk slowly around all the 1910s and 1920s model cars. Because of Downton.

And no Central Illinois festival is complete without overpriced beer in collector mugs.

Sure, it's the same price as a six pack, but can you drink a six pack in the middle of main street in front of your county courthouse? I didn't think so.

The One Community Stage had a lively performance by Bone, Jugs and Harmony (pun intended). They performed with whiskey jugs, kazoos, and all manner of ridiculous instruments. Aine said, I think this is kids' music. I said, no, these guys are for real. They're local and play venues all over town.

You're probably wondering, where are all the spectators? They're crowded in the shade of the building to the left. By this time in the day we hit the low 80s and people were passing out from heat exhaustion. All precautions had to be taken.

Kansas headlined the entertainment this year. Aine said we had to go since they play the theme song to Supernatural. I said, fine, but we leave as soon as they play Wayward Son. Wouldn't you know it. They played it last.

Here's videographic evidence that we were there. With the entire population of Champaign County. Forgive the sloppy camera work. The camera man had been drinking since three that afternoon.

The Blerch Shirts Have Arrived
We ordered Blerch shirts from the The Oatmeal website for the Pumpkin Classic 10K in Morton.

It's based on a six part comic you can read here:
The Oatmeal

You only need to read the first part to understand the shirt, but I would suggest reading all six.

Rocking the d20

So, a few of us decided we wanted to try out Dungeons and Dragons. It was decided that since I'm the only one not in grad school, therefore the only one with free time, I should be the one to learn the hundreds of rules and DM the first game.

In the picture above, you'll see the practice game from the other night where Aine, as a Level 1 Elf Wizard, defeated 4 Goblin Minions with her Magic Missile. That's right.

Coming Soon
Labor Day - Arthur Cheese Festival and the 5k Rat Race.
Hard Cheese - Three weeks to go!

Potterpizzaversary!

Background
Two years ago, on the July 4th weekend, we drove for two days in a Uhaul to move Aine and all her things up to Illinois. We arrived on Church street late the second day, unloaded the truck, and set up house. Exhausted, we didn't feel like cooking dinner and didn't know the local restaurants well enough to order carry out. We bought a frozen pizza and ate it while watching a comfort movie, one of the Harry Potters.

One year ago, on the July 4th weekend, I moved up to join Aine in Illinois. We drove a Uhaul for two days and late the second day, we unloaded the truck, this time doubling the amount of stuff in the 500 square foot Church street apartment. Exhausted from the weekend's activities, we decided to celebrate the successful completion of the move by cooking a frozen pizza and watching Harry Potter.

This year, we decided to mark the one year anniversary of my move and the two year anniversary of her move with a Potter and Pizza Night.

I asked Aine, do you want to get another frozen pizza or make our own, hoping she would opt for the frozen pizza. She said, let's make our own!

Homemade 'Za
We wanted to do this right, so we bought a pizza stone to have that authentic brick oven experience. I used the pizza dough recipe that came in the Oster Recipe Booklet and used whole wheat flour.

Taste of Home had a good pizza sauce recipe that I mostly followed. I omitted the fennel seed and cooked it for ten minutes instead of an hour and it produced a very tasty sauce.

Il Recipe:

• 2x 15 oz cans tomato sauce
• 12 oz can tomato paste
• 1 tbl Italian seasoning
• 1 tbl dried oregano
• 1 tsp onion powder
• 1 tsp garlic powder
• .5 tsp salt

We wanted different toppings on our respective halves. I wanted the traditional pepperoni and jalapenos. Aine preferred mushrooms, savoy spinach, and feta.

While I chopped the veggies, Aine, a pizza-making veteran from her Sewanee days, rolled the dough.

Crankles stood guard.

After we assembled the pizza,

we put it in the oven (400 degrees for 15 minutes). Here's how it came out:

Homemade pizza on a whole wheat crust. Our third annual Potter and Pizza Night was a success.

Grad to the Bone 
Earlier that day, a courier arrived with paper proof of Aine's hard work and tireless scholarship. She now has her long awaited diploma for a Master of Arts in Classics.

Champaign Freedom Celebration 2013

Independence
Yesterday, July the 4th, we celebrated Independence Day. We were one of the first nations to name a day disconnected from any religious tradition, but devoted solely to our national identity. Unlike France's Bastille Day, to name one, ours does not celebrate a battle or a military victory, but a parlaimentary motion to approve a document.

In June, Richard Henry Lee submitted a resolution the Continental Congress to declare independence from the British Empire. Many of the delegates had not been given approval to vote for independence by their states, so the Congress decided to the let the situation marinate. In the meantime, they appointed the Committee of Five, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, Robert Livingston, and Thomas Jefferson, to draft a document justifying independence. Since the heavyweights in the committee were occupied by pressing work in more important committees, the work of drafting the document was shuffled down to the most junior member, the shy, lanky ginger nobody really knew, Jefferson. No one expected much from the declaration. Jefferson needed to slap some words on paper for filing purposes. Instead, he wrote one of the most brilliant and politically radical philosophical treatises in history.

Friday, June 28th (that's right, the 2013 calendar syncs up with the 1776 calendar), the Committee of Five presented Jefferson's declaration to the Congress. They spent the weekend chugging hard cider and haggling in back rooms and on Monday, July 1st, debates over Lee's resolution and Jefferson's document began in earnest. On Tuesday, the political ducks were in a row and the Congress approved Lee's resolution from the month before. The United Colonies were independent of the British Empire. John Adams went home and wrote to Abigail:

The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forever more.

After haggling over wording (about slavery) on Wednesday, the Congress voted to approve the final handwritten copy of the document (dated July 4th) on Thursday and they rushed it off to the printers. Historians disagree about who signed it when, but most agree that the final signed copy on display at the national archives was drafted (and signed by Hancock) sometime after July 19. The majority of delegates didn't append their signatures until August.

Independence wasn't a reality until Cornwallis' surrender in 1781 and the subsequent Treaty of Paris in 1783, but in early July 1776, the idea, long incubated, was born: the idea of a government instituted by the governed to ensure the inalienable rights of its citizens. And that's what we celebrated yesterday.

Three Point One
To celebrate, we ran the Freedom 5k.

Of course, we needed patriotic attire for the run, so we bought some 2013 Flag Shirts from Old Navy.

It started and ended in a grove of sycamores in front of Assembly Hall.

Here's the Before Picture (see how happy and naive we look):

And the After (see the exhaustion):

For the weary runners, watermelon:

After the race we met up with Sebastian.

His usual workout takes him on 10 mile runs. So, while we were happy that we came in under 30 minutes, he seemed ambivalent about coming in under 20. We consoled ourselves with a fattening breakfast of eggs, potatoes, and pancakes at Le Peep.

Fireworks
Even though the Freedom Celebration took place only half a mile from our apartment, we decided to drive, so we wouldn't have to carry our chairs that far. We were still tired. We ran a lot that morning. However, when we reached the parking lot, we realized it was about the same distance in the other direction. So we drove back home and walked anyway.

The festivities were set up on Stadium Terrace, a huge green area across from Assembly Hall. They had bounce houses for the kiddos, food vendors, and a 60s and 70s cover band. The band was pretty good when they were singing. Sometimes between songs, they made jokes. They weren't funny.

We arrived early and brought books. We wanted to enjoy the music, the weather, and some cold beverages from Friar Tuck's while we read and waited for the sun to set. However, the booth wasn't Friar Tuck's, local liquor store, it was Fryer Tuck's, local purveyor of fried foods. I looked around at the coolers brought from home and the dads furtively pouring their beers into nondescript plastic cups and I realized I had misjudged the situation. So I trekked off campus and bought beers and a cooler from Walgreens. Aine hassled the Fryer Tuck's staff for two plastic cups. Then we moved our chairs to the middle of the field, far from the roving police officers.

By that time, it was too dark to read. The sun was setting.

Shortly before the start of the fireworks, I had to go to one of the Port-a-Pottys to release some of the beer. I am generally horrified at the thought of public restrooms, so when exiting the little wigwam of feces, I took a generous helping of hand sanitizer. On the walk back, I found the hand sanitizer was taking an unusually long time to rub in. Also, it was strangely fragrant. Also, it foamed the more I rubbed.

I sat down and expressed my bewilderment to Aine.

She said: "You brainless scumbag. That's soap."

Apparently there were little motion activated sinks inside the Port-a-Pottys. I thought they were just really high urinals.

It was too late at that point. A local pastor said a prayer, a local choir sang the Star Spangled Banner, and Champaign Fire Department retired the flag while a bagpiper played Taps. Then the explosions began.

The first fireworks celebration for July 4th took place in Boston in 1777. So, when you watch fireworks on the 4th, you're participating in our second oldest national tradition. The first oldest is complaining about taxes.

Here are the obligatory blurry fireworks pictures.

Parting Shot
We were a stop on the Wedding Victory Tour!