For the Love of Boston

This might be a very rambling post - I'm still processing what happened.

Mile 25.  My body hurts, but I'm going to make it.  I've been dreaming of these next few moments all day.  I've worked so hard and even though I started the day with a very tight back, I'm going to cross the finish line of the Boston Marathon - a dream come true.  I suddenly see Dave frantically waving on the sideline, screaming at me to stop and come over.  My first thought is, "doesn't he know I'm about to finish? I can't stop now" - but the look on his face tells me something is very, very wrong.

"honey, there was an explosion at the finish"

"an explosion?"

"yes, an explosion, people are hurt.  There's an alternate race ending....."

Then things go blurry and I start running again.  I really don't understand what he just said, so I'm trying to process it.  On the sidelines, people are still cheering, but there are people on the course.  This is the Boston Marathon, why are there people walking the wrong way on the course??  Then I see the looks on their faces.  They're crying.  They look scared, worried, confused...everything you're not supposed to look like after completing the Boston Marathon...and suddenly I ran into a wall of stopped runners.

Then it hit me.  There was an explosion at the finish line.  People were hurt.  They stopped the race.

We can't go to the hotel where the team was supposed to meet - it's at Copley Square where the bombs went off.  I don't know if the rest of my team mates are safe.  I suddenly hear Dave screaming my name again, I've never been so grateful as I was in that moment....

The next moments are a blur - I think I text messaged or tweeted my co-workers to let them know I was safe (I don't remember).  I somehow have Dave's jacket on, and I'm sitting on the street corner sobbing uncontrollably.  I think I realized just how vulnerable I was - I had no phone, no ID, no cash or credit cards...absolutely NOTHING but the clothes on my back and my bib number.  How many times a week do I allow myself to be this vulnerable?  At least three.

But here's the amazing thing that happened - people from the neighborhood came out with buckets of water, bags of oranges, paper bags, and charged cell phones and were walking through the throng of runners to make sure people had water, snacks, a bag to stay warm, and a phone to send a text message to a loved one to let them know they're safe.  I somehow get an orange inserted into my mouth.

It takes us about two hours to walk back to the hotel.  The sound of sirens is constant, helicopters are overhead, ambulances are screaming down the road; I keep trying to tell myself that they're just evacuating the medic tent at the finish line as a precaution.  Then it dawned on me that people may call this a terrorist attack.  Oh my god, we were bystanders during a national terrorist attack.

I've been very up and down since Monday - I get hopeful and hopeless within a few minutes, but here's one thing that has felt constant.  Marathons are events that don't have any political agenda to them.  It's a celebration of will, determination, and strength of the human spirit.  As an athlete, it's an opportunity to bare your soul on the pavement, to show yourself what you're really made of.  To remind one's self that regardless of the hardships we may face in the real world, that we create another world that is just for us, and in that we strive to great heights.

The Boston Marathon is an opportunity for people to volunteer, cheer, run, yell, drink, kiss random girls in Wellesley (I kissed 2), celebrate, BBQ, hand out oranges, and pretty much let your American Spirit rule the day....every runner on the course is important; and being the woman who started in Corral 9 of Wave 3 I can totally vouch for that - I felt like a total badass and rockstar because of the people along the race route.

Because of these things, we cannot let this bastard win.

Regardless of whether or not you're a runner, I'd encourage you to grab an old race shirt, and get outside this weekend for a run, a walk, or whatever it is you want to do.  Don't let "them" win.  We are greater than that.

I know this will be a healing process, I know I'll start to feel better, I know I'll start to sleep again.  I'm going to race in a week and a half and I'll hit the start line wearing my Boston Marathon shirt because...

The Great Bacon Debate

Earlier last year, there was a flurry of stories indicating that there will be a bacon shortage in our near future.  This naturally caused a lot of people to start panicking...some started hoarding bacon, others were lamenting the upcoming shortage, yet no one was actively saying, "I should quit eating bacon so when the shortage does happen, I won't be emotionally traumatized by being forced to quit eating bacon cold turkey."  Because really, who wants to consciously stop eating bacon when you've been enjoying it for years?

My uncle seems to have taken a "Lean In" approach to this.  He has been on the quest for America's best tasting bacon.  My husband and I had the honor of sampling what may have been "The Final Four."  Here is what happened.

First things first - I wanted to approach this as closely to a science experiment as humanly possible (not having a science degree makes this slightly harder to accomplish).  All bacon was cooked in a 400 degree convection oven.  I replaced the aluminum foil on the baking sheet between each batch so as to not cross-contaminate.  Additionally, each batch was placed on fresh paper towels to absorb any excess bacon grease.  No paper towels were stacked.  We each ate one piece of bacon, then left the third piece of bacon so we could do a final showdown.  The single words to describe each bacon were gathered during the final showdown and are listed as "Overall Sentiment."

Bacon #1
Pre cook:

• Very sweet smoke smell
• On the thin side (I like thicker bacon)

Post cook:

• Cooked well for thin bacon
• Meat was hard and stringy
• Meat was also kinda dry
• VERY salty
• Tasted "cheap"

I wouldn't serve this to people I disliked.  This did remind me of a super greasy diner, where your 75-year-old smoking waitress could snap at any second and throw a full plate of bacon at you, scream obscenities, then storm our of the diner.  And you wouldn't even want to eat the free bacon.

Overall sentiment (Kristiana/Dave): Lame/Diner

Bacon #2:

Pre cook:

• Amazing smoky smell!
• Very reasonable thickness

Post cook:

• That is some F-Yea bacon
• Meat was very tender, was not stringy or tough
• Smokiness was awesome.
• If I think of home cured bacon from the 1800s, this is exactly what comes to mind
• Melted when it needed to

This bacon spoke to us.  It was one of those bacons that you could easily see yourself having a long-term committed relationship with.  Without hesitation.  The smokiness of it reminded me of the 1800s - it was literally like you whacked the pig and threw it up in the big smoker yourself.  Damn fine meat.

Overall sentiment: Manly/Bold

Bacon #3

Pre cook:

• Great thickness
• No smoky or sweet smell - weird

Post cook:

• Crispy parts were the most amazing parts!
• Slightly sweeter finish than #2
• No real smokiness to it

This bacon was OK.  I wouldn't write home about it, but if you served it to me, I certainly wouldn't throw a fit and flip a table over in disgust.

Overall sentiment: Standard/Standard

Bacon #4

Pre cook:

• This looked like bacon steak
• Not much smokiness smell, but had a sweeter smell

Post cook:

• the outside "skin" of the bacon made your mouth want more
• The fatty portions retained more salt than the meaty portions
• Meat was tender, but not as tender as #2.

This bacon was seriously a special occasion bacon.  It was so overwhelmingly delicious, between the crunchy outside texture of the piece coupled with the nice meatiness.  We almost didn't feel worthy.

Overall sentiment: Phenomenal/Amazing

Rankings unanimously go like this: 2, 4, 3, 1

The reason we picked 2 over 4 is that 4 was truly a "special occasion" bacon and we were looking for something we could enjoy every day.  Don't get me wrong, if a package of #4 showed up on my doorstep, I'd eat it immediately, but this may be an example where you can have too much of a good thing!