Mango Dark Chocolate Chunk Ice Cream

Summer solstice, summer flavors.

Decided I needed to break out the ice cream maker to try a new flavor. Two mangos and a bar of dark chocolate later, there are approximately two quarts of Mango Dark Chocolate Chunk ice cream hardening in the freezer. The recipe is based on this one, although I modified it by using half and half instead of the milk as well as adding the dark chocolate (a bar of 51% cocao by Perugina). Expecting great things, both from this ice cream and the summer it is welcoming.

Today I went for a run

Today I went for a run. So did 28,000 in Boston. There's usually a little bit of pain involved - perhaps it is the cramp from being just a tad out of shape, or an achy knee. But on a beautiful spring evening, it is easy to look past those moments and keep pushing because of how great it'll feel when it is over. That is how it is supposed to - a little bit of effort but with a great reward - but someone, somewhere, had other plans for Boston.

Reports are still coming in and evidence needs to be evaluated, puzzle pieces assembled before a clearer picture will, perhaps, put the how and the why into what happened today. Some things are certain - there are people who's lives will never be the same as they were when the starting gun went off. Lives and limbs have been lost, never to be replaced. And that innocence we as US citizens so often take for granted has received another shock to the system.

When I learned about what was unfolding I was sitting at my desk wondering how I was going to accomplish the un-done to-dos on my mental list of the day. Suddenly, however, none of those emails, phone calls, or Word documents seemed to matter. My thoughts were with the people I know in Boston and my fellow runners competing in the race - were they OK? A scan through Facebook revealed updates from family and friends saying they were unharmed. An email to a friend asking if word had come in from the Syracuse running contingent helped settle the nerves. But my mind wasn't ready to get back to that list - not now, and probably not tonight. What can I do but think and pray? Run.

Run in solidarity for those immediately touched by today's event. Run in support of those who, just like me, don't know what else to do. As I stepped onto the trail in the late evening sun, I felt the warmth of spring struggling to take hold and wrench from winter control of the next few months. I also felt the comfort of knowing for the next hour, I would do what I always do when it seems nothing else can be done. I will loose myself in the essentials of the moment - placing one foot in front of the other, controlling my breathing, and sorting out the thoughts that want to stay while the others are left on the trail behind. Up hills and along gravel paths, pounding out mile after mile, for me there is comfort in the rhythm and the effort.

Today most thoughts that typically stick didn't, seeming petty and selfish in the context of the events. Instead I kept coming back to a particular thought about what had recently transpired in Boston. In my lifetime, I can recall a handful of similar events that rocked the nation, and one the world. Although the shouldn't be, a few are just blips in my memory: the first attack on the World Trade Center and the Atlanta Olympics bombing. Others I recall more of where I was when I learned about them - I was waiting for my friends after returning to the car from a four-day backpacking trip in the Adirondacks when the Oklahoma City bombing took place. I was in a futile apartment hunting effort at the former Seneca Army Depot when I learned about the planes hitting the Pentagon and World Trade Center.

But today I also thought of how sheltered I am from events like this because of how fortunate I am to live in the country I do. I can't pretend to know the myriad of factors that contribute to why this is, nor will I. Instead, I try to gain a shred of empathy for those who live in places where events like today are horrifically ordinary. Places where for illogical reasons humans think they can get their point across by committing explosively violent acts against their peers. There are many parts of the world that family members set out to do things much less extraordinary than running a marathon (think buy food at a market, get a cup of coffee, or even just walk down the street to go to work) and meet the same fate as those in Boston today. These events bring that reality all that much closer to us.

I wonder what, if anything, can be done? Part of me says it is too complex to ever understand - if world peace were simple we'd already have it, right? But that is to overwhelming and oppressing a thought on an already oppressive evening. Instead, I will take solace in knowing that to think global, we have to act local (and simple). Hug someone, lend a hand, smile at strangers, say hi, hold open the door, spare some change, have an open mind, and listen. Do something to show to others that you care, and perhaps they'll return this to you, or even better, pay it forward. Try not to focus on the attention hungry minority but rather on the silent majority who, with a little encouragement, might eventually smother that minority with care and love.

Spring Sprung

Bam - just like that, it is here. Spring. Flowers. Sun. Warmth. Rides. Shorts.

Finally feeling the last vestiges of many things fade into the past. Winter and illness being the most tangible. Last Monday, April fooled us into thinking that April meant, well, spring but instead brought us three consecutive days of snow. This weekend gave us the first real attempt of spring - sun and warmth.

I took advantage of this welcomed change by going big. Yesterday, 3 mile walk and then a 4 mile run. Today, 8 mile run followed later in the day by a 6.5 mile mountain bike ride. Tomorrow, asleep at my desk!

Rebuilding

In February I was afflicted by an illness (or many, still not sure) that kept me down for many weeks. I probably antagonized the situation by running 13.1 miles in near freezing temps but regardless of who or what is at fault, being under the weather for weeks on end has been not so much fun. I have a little over a month (one day over to be exact) to try and get ready for my next scheduled 1/2... sounds painful.

But rebuilding always starts with a first: step, mile, stone, wall. With the arrival of spring, longer days, warmer temps, and the return of birds I haven't heard in many months, I am for the first time in a while looking forward to new beginnings, or at least not looking back so much. I've been working on some projects around the house, brewing new beers, and thinking about the future in ways I haven't in a while. Time and distance are finally doing what they should, giving me the strength to start rebuilding. Putting up walls, parsing the great from the not so great, stepping back and looking at what's left, what I want to keep and what should be discarded. And also moving on to new things, deciding what to be open to in the future, and what should be passed by. Most tangibly, now that I am (nearly) healthy, I am looking forward to being able to run again, and ride!

It seems it will always be one day at a time, but the days, and the absence, grows less burdensome. For this, I am thankful. "So I think it's best we both forget before we dwell on it."

Epicurean Adventures: Ice Cream

For my most recent birthday, my family and friends gave me an ice cream maker, adding to my "things I could buy but instead I attempt to make from scratch and then eat" list. The list started probably started with cookies and cakes when I was in college and too cheap (or broke) to buy sweets at the store. And mom didn't keep up with my demand...

My friend Chris got me hooked on brewing my favorite, beer, when he gave me a Mr. Beer brew kit for Christmas one year. When I returned from a summer in England, he'd liberated my unused kit and accidentally lagered an ale, which turned out to be a dead ringer for the local beers I'd been drinking in many of the English pubs I'd spent the last three months visiting. The rest, as they say, is history - I've been brewing ever since and occasionally blogging about these adventures here.

Next I added cheese, also my favorite, courtesy of my brother and his desire to make fresh mozzarella. I've dabbled in a few cheeses, mainly mozzarella-esque but also one farmhouse cheddar, which was mildly edible. I will revisit this soon but as of late have been focusing on ice cream, which I would also count as my favorite. This makes three favorites, I know. What can I say, I am indecisive.

Flavors I've made include French vanilla, raspberry Nutella ripple, caramel with homemade caramel swirl, and now almond butter swirl with dark chocolate and cranberry bits. For those allergic to nuts, stop reading now because the rest of this will only pain you. This is by far the best ice cream I've concocted yet. Here's the ingredients:

Almond Butter Ice Cream with Dark Chocolate and Dried Cranberries

• 2 c. half & half
• 2 c. heavy whipping cream
• 2 tsp vanilla 
• 8 egg yolks
• 1 c. chopped dried cranberries
• 1 c. chopped dark chocolate
• 1 c. almond butter
• 1 c. heavy whipping cream

I warmed and mixed the almond butter with 1 c. whipping cream to make it smooth enough to pour and mixed this with the ice cream after churning it. This I chilled with the custard mix before churning it and then lightly warmed it again enough to make it slightly viscous. I spooned a few heaping spoonfuls of ice cream into the container, then added the almond butter cream mixture, then a generous helping of cranberries and chocolate and repeated this layering until it was full. I stirred the ice cream a few times to distribute the additions throughout the cream a little before freezing. It is delicious! Hint of almond, crunch of chocolate, tartness of chewy cranberry... 

Time to heal

To heal is human. From the instant the doctor slaps us on the ass, we're a collection of cells frantically playing damage control. As little ones, these battles are largely physical - first bumps, scrapes from those wobbly, untrained legs giving out, and the like.

Somewhere along the way we begin to add new injuries, those that can't be fixed with a kiss from mom or Scooby Doo bandage. We learn that these wounds are just as painful, sometimes more, and the body's recipe for repair isn't as prescribed as sending in a bunch of white blood cells and later building new tissue. No, we must discover the paths to healing on our own, figuring out what works best in making the pain disappear. A passionately violent roar, music a few decibels too loud, a close friend's ear, family support, and many dusty (or muddy) miles are a few of the things that come to mind. And just like the learned response of not touching a hot stove twice, we need to learn not to repeat the offenses that cause searing anguish.

While life is a learning experience, and the journey has many nuances, I would like to think that I am at long last beginning to close a chapter, learn from while also cherishing its experiences, and dust myself off from this recent, but really not so, tumble. My strong desire to have everything work out well makes it difficult to just let go but I'm tryin', I swear.

I'm looking forward to a new riding season of physical bumps and bruises to cover up those emotional ones that have been holding me down as of late. And I'll continue to add to my healing repertoire until that time when these old bones can no longer muster their restorative powers, forcing me to ride off into the great single track heaven.

Tired

It's too early to be this tired.
Too early in the evening.
Too early in the day, the week.
Too early in the month, the year.
Too early in this life.

Tired of being tired
Tired of being
Tired of
Tired

Tired of a loss
Tired of being at a loss
Tired of of of of the struggle

Just tired

Tired of looking for the solution
Tired of finding it
Tired of it tricking me

Tired of trying to rewire
Tired of trying to grow
Tired of staying the same

I'd rather be tired from riding my bike
But Old Man Winter's too tired from being so cold, and she's in the shop.

I'd rather be tired from running too far
But I'm too tired of making excuses not to go

I'd rather be tired from skiing too long
But Old Man Winter's too tired to make enough snow

Is it time to journey on?
To where?
What could be next?
Is there a next?

Or is there just more tired.