Monday, August 23, 2010

Did you know The Passion was a big hit in Italy?

Oops! I was not a very dutiful blogger over the weekend. My only excuse is that it's summer. Minnesota summers are fleeting and I try to enjoy the warm weather as much as possible. The thought of winter and snow is enough to make me want to go into hibernation. I'm definitely a summer baby. I like the heat, days spent on the lake, and living in shorts and a tank top. This chick was meant for warmer climates.

Aside from being a blogging slacker, I was also a slacker when it came to documenting my eats. I only took sporadic photos because I mostly ate the same few things all weekend long.

There were a couple of these...

The picture doesn't do the pretty pink color of this smoothie justice. It was delish too!

I ate a lot of this. My mom made the salad for a potluck and sent me home with a big bowl of leftovers. Yum! Thanks mom!

I also had one of these for at least two of my meals this weekend.

A margherita pita pizza! Double yum!

After my last successful attempt at eating greek yogurt (and actually enjoying it), I gave this bad boy a whirl.

Verdict: Yuck! Apparently plain greek yogurt is still a taste that my tastebuds haven't grown accustomed to. Even the copious blueberries weren't enough to make it palatable.

I was bored this weekend and wanted to try a new twist on my breakfast standby so I made this.

I forgot to take a photo until after I'd mauled it throughout the weekend. Oops again! I'm not completely in love with the recipe yet (I stuck to the basic recipe and they were a little bland) but I think with a little creativity they could be uber fantastic. I left out the chocolate chips from the original recipe because this chick is not a chocolate fan. I feel like my girl membership should be revoked every single time I admit that chocolate just doesn't do it for me.

This morning's version was getting pretty close to being delicious, I sliced up a banana and smotheredsprinkled brown sugar on top.

The most exciting thing about my weekend was my baby brother's birthday. He turned 20! I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around the idea that my baby brother isn't so little anymore.

You can't see it in the photo, but my baby brother isn't such a baby. He's over 6 feet tall and totally dwarfs my 5'7" height. I have a feeling that he's always going to be my adorkable baby brother no matter how tall or old he gets. Sorry E!

Let's take a little trip down memory lane, shall we?

From the very beginning Ethan recognized that his sister was to be respected and feared.

I, in turn, recognized that my little brother needed to be loved (in spite of the mullet my mother forced on him) and protected (because of the mullet my mother forced on him).

Eventually mom stopped making the poor kid have a mullet... Thank goodness...

Sometimes E likes to stare pensively into the distance. I'm sure he's thinking something highly intelligent.

Or he was just wishing that he could pose like this. *points down*

Embarrassing facial expressions aside (a trait that runs in the family), Ethan is pretty much the best little brother I could ask for. He embraces my natural inclination toward enthusiastic insanity and doesn't bat an eyelash when I suddenly burst into song in the middle of Target. Both are important traits to have if you're going to be my brother. If he had a nickel for every time I've sang the theme song to "Fame" in public, he'd be a rich man. He's also adorkably nerdy, super smart, a little bit lazy, accidentally hilarious, and all around awesome. Happy Birthday E! I love you to bits!

The fam went out for lunch at D Michael B's to celebrate E's birthday and I had my old standby. A panini with veggies and dip on the side.

I also snitched a few bites off of E's plate. Tortellini?! Yes please!

Aside from the birthday fun on Sunday, I spent most of my weekend hanging out with this furball.

This is Colby and his "girlfriend" Sadie. Colby hasn't realized that Sadie is three times his size yet.

Lunch today was a huge salad. I was craving veggies like mad. As usual I had to add some hardboiled egg whites to my salad. Most of the white stuff is chopped up egg whites, but there is a little feta cheese on there as well.

I filled up my gas tank over my lunch hour and I caved to buying an iced coffee from the gas station. Am I the only one who has a weakness for gas station iced coffee? It's a very peculiar love, I know. The coffee was incredibly sweet so I only drank about a third before I ditched the rest of it. I didn't want to spend the rest of my afternoon at work with a sugar high.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually excited to start my half-marathon training once the weather takes a turn for the arctic chill that Minnesota calls winter. I like having a goal to work toward. Plus, let's face it, being able to run a half-marathon is pretty b.a. I've always had a serious case of runner's envy. In the back of my mind I always had this desire to become a "runner" but for whatever reason it seemed like such an insurmountable goal. Over the years I've tried to start running time and time again, but after making what seemed like no progress I kept giving up. I attempted to start running (for what felt like the millionth time) earlier this year and started to repeat the same pattern. I spent a few months running pretty consistently, but my progress seemed nominal at best. I stopped running for a month because I was so frustrated with it, but one day my mom goaded me into hopping on the treadmill while I waited for her to be ready for our bike ride. When I had been running previously, I'd been doing intervals of running and walking. The longest run interval I'd ever done was 7 minutes (which made me feel like I was going to die) so I set a goal of running five minutes straight and powered up the old treadmill. Five minutes passed by without me breaking a leg and/or dropping dead so I decided to run for another minute. Then I ran another. Then another. Somehow I managed to run over a mile without stopping. As a point of reference I would like to say that I had NEVER ran a mile straight in my entire life before that point. I literally screamed when I realized that I'd ran an entire mile without stopping. I then promptly burst into excited tears. The pure joy of that accomplishment jumpstarted my motivation and I haven't quit running since. I've fallen in love with the way running makes me feel. Strong. Accomplished. Invincible. Fantastic.

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