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.

Why Robin Thicke Should Be Boiled in his Tank

Dear Son,

This may be confusing to you since you don't exist yet. One day you will. Once you've learned enough English to work at McDonald's or blog about politics, you'll probably understand a little bit of the music you hear. You might stumble across the song Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke. Hopefully, this travesty of a song will have been banned by then, but it looks like these namby pamby liberals with their freedom of speech aren't going anywhere.

This song has tarnished the good name of American Pop Music and, I'm afraid, has taken us to a place as a nation we can't come back from. You'll say, Dad, explicitly treating women like sexual objects in song is nothing new: Big Joe Turner released Rebecca in 1944. First, Son, I would say Jazz doesn't count. Second, I would say even if it does, there are some subtle distinctions and I'm going to outline them here. In this fake letter I'm posting on the internet.

Robin Thicke recently performed this song while being the direct object of twerking on a recent awards show. And while he had no control over Mylie Cyrus' impromptu shenanigans, he was a married man singing a sex song, which is probably wildly misleading to people considering marriage. Also, Mylie Cyrus looks underage, so that makes it even worse. Granted, when a 23 year old John Lennon wrote and sang, "she was just seventeen if you know what I mean," he had already married Cynthia Powell after knocking her up. Here's the difference. A 36 year old man who looks like a skinny Russell Crowe: inappropriate. A 23 year old high school teacher: inappropriate. A 23 year old musician: what father of a 17 year old girl wouldn't be pleased?

What does the father have to do with it? Well, if you're going to treat a woman as a sexual object, it's important to take her previous owner into account and that's where Robin Thicke falls short. You can only do what you feel if her daddy is poor. If her daddy is rich, however, you should probably take her out for a meal first.

And let's face it. It's not so much the implicit glorification of infidelity, which has always been OK: Elvis sang Long Tall Sally in 1956. The difference you should note is that Mylie Cyrus is neither "built sweet" nor does she "have everything Uncle John needs."

Robin Thicke sings "you're an animal, baby," which strips away her agency and her intelligence. It is never OK to imply that a woman isn't a person. When the Beach Boys sing that they "dig a French bikini on Hawaiian island dolls," they're not talking about girls as though they were mindless bodies only valuable for their aesthetic attributes. It's a well known fact the Beach Boys actually collected dolls. Some animals are wild, but you shouldn't confuse this with The Troggs' Wild Thing, which is neither about women nor sex. It's a pastoral poem affirming the grooviness of the natural world. James Brown's Sex Machine isn't implying that woman was created for only one purpose. If you go back and listen carefully to the lyrics, he's clearly talking about erectile dysfunction. And that's OK.

Also, when Tom Jones sings What's New, Pussycat... come to think of it, Son, I don't want you listening to Tom Jones either.

One of the most disturbing aspects of all this is the public nature of this explicit sexuality. Twerking on a stage to a song about flirting in a club. The Drifters were gentlemen enough to make love under the boardwalk, hidden from the eyes of the people walking above. Tommy James hid what he was doing. He waited until he thought they were alone now before tumbling to the ground wrapped in arms.

The worst part of this song is the use of the B-word to describe a woman. I'm not even going to type it in his fake letter on the internet. Son, if you're ever confused about whether the B-word is appropriate as a lyric, follow this chart.

Performers who can use the B-word

• Mick Jagger
• Johnny Cash
• Miles Davis
• Woody Guthrie
• Elton John

Singers who can NOT use the B-word

• Robin Thicke

But mostly, Son, it's about class. Roy Orbison may well ask a pretty woman he only just met to be his tonight solely on the basis of her looks, but Robin Thicke, Son, is no Roy Orbison.

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!

Life's Been Cheddar

The Results Are In
My time for the Run4Raley 5k: 25:57

Which means I ran a 8.4 minute mile. Which isn't very fast. But it was pretty fast for me. Now we're gearing up for the Pumpkin Classic 10k in Morton. Last week, I totalled 17 miles. This week, I'm hitting 21.

Thanks, Fanks
I gave up on Dr. Fankhauser. His instructions were rambling, inconsistent and lacking in vital information. The good doctor uses well water and cultivates his own rennet from calf guts to make cheese, so he doesn't spend much time on explaining the intricacies of using store bought milk for apartment dwellers.

After ruining 4 or 5 gallons of milk in pursuit of hard cheese, I bought a book.

On the right. Cheesemaking by Ricki Carroll. She started the New England Cheesemaking Supply Company, from whom I bought the rennet and the calcium chloride. From what the rave reviews say, she kickstarted the homemade cheese revolution. She writes instructions for those of us who don't milk goats.

(On the left, you'll see Empire of Liberty by Gordon Wood about the period between the ratification of the Constitution through the end of the War of 1812. I finally finished the dry ramblings of Dr. Middlekauff.)

The first thing I read was NEVER USE TAP WATER to dilute your rennet and calcium. Chlorine in tap water cripples the rennet and gives you a weak break. Also, she says, NEVER USE IODIZED SALT. The iodine kills the bacteria that give your cheese flavor.

So we did it for real this time. I got to the curd cutting phase of the cheese process.

I cooked the curds.

And drained them.

Then I salted and spooned the cooked curds into the cheese press Dad made.

I had plenty of assistance.

I pressed the curds overnight.

The next morning I unwrapped the hunk of cheese and let it air dry for 2 days.

At which point I waxed it.

I now have a waxed hunk of cheese in my fridge. In four weeks, On September 18th, I'll cut into it and taste the deliciousness of my very first cheddar.

Easy As Pie
We're still doing a homemade pizza once a week. It's actually one of the easiest and fastest dinners to make if I remember to throw some flour in the breadmaker on time. The last two have been utter successes. The first I found randomly on the internet, the second I copied from a local restaurant.

Potato, Asparagus, and Feta Pizza

Pear, Feta, and Pine Nut Pizza

It's a Citrus, Khaleesi
Pitaya. Dragon Fruit. This fruit, from a night blooming cactus, comes from South America and Asia.

You just cut it in half and scoop out its guts. It had the texture of a pear and a very mellow flavor. Too mellow. It almost didn't taste at all.

Erin Go Bragh
Or at least until the first sip. We made Irish Coffees. Only, we didn't have cream, so I guess they were Black Irish Coffees.

Aine didn't finish hers.

(And, yes, under my wallet and phone, you see the Bernard Bailyn introduction lectures to his Peopling of British North America series. If Wood is the Obi Wan of early American history, Bailyn is the Quigon Jinn.)

Home Invasion
The other morning a small spider, the size of your pinky nail, crawled to the middle of my office ceiling. It was just hanging out. Minding its business.

Then Piglet saw it. She just wanted to rip it into small pieces. Frustrated at the spider's inaccessibility, she started mrowing at it. Alarmed by the commotion, Crankles rushed in to save the day.

Then he saw the spider. And he started whining.

They have a good time hunting roaches and flies together, but this distant spider completely stymied them. She mrowed. He whined. And that noise lasted for the first twenty minutes of my work day.

Parting Shot
Life in Illinois seems precarious at times.

But this does not alarm us.

August in Champaign

Independence Day Again
Yesterday, August 2nd, was the anniversary of the actual signing of the Declaration of Independence. I'm currently reading The Glorious Cause by Robert Middlekauff.

Chronologically, it's the first available book of the Oxford History of the United States series. Started in the 1950s, it was intended to be a comprehensive history of the United States for a general audience. Three of the books have won Pulitzers and two have been finalists. Each covers roughly a 30 year span. All of them are really long. We'll see how far I make it.

I realized reading this that the colonial era comprises one of the largest chunks of our nation's history. The time span from the founding of Jamestown to the battle of Lexington and Concord is about as long as Lexington and Concord to the end of World War II. About 170 years. Full of crazy stuff they just glossed over in school. For instance, did you know that New England alone saw 8 wars and 1 rebellion between the mid 1600s and the mid 1700s? Georgia was a penal colony: Britain colonized Australia because they lost Georgia in the American Revolution. The more I read about America before 1790, the more bizarre and exotic it seems.

Also, thanks to Benedict Arnold's actions at Saratoga, Horatio Gates' army defeated the British under Burgoyne. The victory at Saratoga convinced the French to declare war on the British, which more or less sealed America's fate. So, before defecting to the British, Benedict Arnold won the war for the Americans.

Run for Raley
I ran the 6th annual Run for Raley 5k in Philo. Proceeds are donated to researching Mitochondrial Disease, a disease in which your body is unable to convert food into energy. The charity run was started by the Kirbys in memory of their daughter.

My Before and After:

I ran the Freedom 5k in Champaign in 29:30. I finished the Raley 5k at 26:00.

Now I'm just tired and hungry.

Another Weird Pizza
Chicken Tikka Masala Pizza garnished with chopped cilantro. This combined two of our favorite things to eat. Indian food and Pizza.

You can find the recipe at Rasa Malaysia.

Coming Soon
Sweet Corn Festival 2013
Maybe Hard Cheese