santa maria

My first impression was not exactly positive.

I was a pre-pubescent, extremely self-conscious, buck-toothed kid trapped on a "family getaway" that involved standing on the side of the freeway in front of a chain-link fence decorated with a giant wooden rosary while large vehicles barreled past. Apparently, someone in Santa Maria claimed they had seen the Virgin Mary, so my very Catholic parents had to make a pilgrimage. (Growing up, nearly all of our family trips involved going to uncomfortable places in the middle of nowhere because someone had a vision. Don't even get me started about the time we went to a farm in rural Georgia and prayed in a field for hours and it was hot and the only bathroom was a port-a-potty.)

Naturally, I tried not to return to Santa Maria ever again. And I didn't -- until after college, when I was living in San Luis Obispo. This time, the pilgrimages were all about going to Del Taco. Many prayers of gratitude were uttered for those nacho fries (which aren't on the menu, so you have to ask for them specially and now you know). Hallelujah, praise the Del Classic Chicken Burrito!

It's funny how Santa Maria keeps sneaking back in there.

I flew down yesterday for a media dinner at one of our wineries. I turned my rental car east, past ag silos and row after row of thick, leafy green crops, and ended up in rolling hills and a patchwork of vineyards. I saw deer. And hawks. And a tarantula crossing the road. (Seriously, it is kind of disturbing when a spider is so large that you can identify it as a spider from the vantage point of the driver's seat.)

The dinner itself was a miracle: About an hour before the event was scheduled to start, the winery lost power and water. Which meant the 20 health-and-fitness journalists -- who had just finished a two-and-half-hour bus ride -- were greeted with toilets that wouldn't flush. And the caterer providing the meal was trying to cook with bottled water. And our poor winemaker -- up since 5 a.m. and caught in the throes of harvest -- had wine stuck mid-pump and looked like she wanted to pull her hair out.

But thankfully, just as we were about to sit down and do our best, the power came back. The toilets flushed. The food was served (a pistachio-themed menu -- really incredible). And the winemaker gave a wonderful introduction to the advantages -- and occasional challenges -- of growing grapes on the benchlands of Santa Maria.

And you know what she said?

"This is God's country."

I should've guessed.

marathon of eating

I can't stop looking up food options for Portland.

In fact, at this very moment, I have not one, but two reservations for our pre-race dinner. I couldn't decide between Nostrana (a Chowhound favorite and all-around foodie mecca) and Ristorante Roma (much more casual and not as high-profile, but seems to have bigger portions -- a plus for carbo-loading -- and more vegetarian options), so I booked both. At this point, I'm leaning toward Roma. It doesn't seem as interesting as Nostrana, but to be honest, experimentation and rich foods aren't exactly the best choice on the eve of 26.2 miles. My primary marathon goal remains the tried-and-true "Do not crap in pants." (Followed closely by "Do not barf." Also "Do not die.")

Other spots that look exciting: Clyde Common (dear god, the photos on their site are like food porn -- I'm thinking this is the place to go for an all-out post-race fancy dinner -- presuming we actually all cross the finish line in one piece and can walk afterward), Pok Pok and its neighboring Whiskey Soda Lounge, Food Fight Grocery (all vegan!), Tasty n Sons (this place has brunch written all over it), Whole Bowl (though I worry it won't be open while we're in town -- looks like more of a weekday spot) and Beaker & Flask.

And of course, there are the places I went to last time that I'd love to revisit. Horse Brass was awesome -- so jealous that it's someone else's neighborhood pub. (Dear Portland: Can you adopt me?) And even though it's kitschy and touristy, I want to take Laura to Voodoo Doughnut (where the skeleton in my photo, above, resides) for a maple bacon bar. (Does this make me hypocritical as a vegetarian? I won't eat the bacon, but I'll readily take someone else to go eat it. Hmmm.)

So many options! Seriously, I wish I had a million stomachs and more time in the City of Roses.

the countdown starts

No Sunday is complete without a photo of my post-run meal. Today's feast was a housemade veggie burger and fries from Station House Cafe.

That's right -- we ran trails in Point Reyes this morning -- the Earthquake Trail (a paved loop run in the darkness of early morning, and my hands were so cold I had to tuck them inside my sleeves), Rift Zone Trail (imagine meadow after meadow of grazing cows and their calves, followed by a winding path through ferns and over wooden bridges) and Bear Valley Trail (which took us out to Arch Rock and a view of fog rising over the ocean).

I did a total of 18 miles. While this wasn't the 20 or 22 the rest of the group did (and which I had originally planned on before the injury), I'm very happy. I had thought I'd only be able to reach 16 prior to race day, so 18 is an accomplishment. For the most part, it was a strong run (slow and steady), though my left knee did start acting up a little bit toward the end (probably traces of the Runner's Knee debacle I dealt with earlier in the training cycle). But the right leg was fine -- no pain!

Other positives: I don't feel beat up the way I did after other 18-milers. And I think I may have finally figured out a nutrition plan that works for me: Honey Stingers in Gold flavor (tastes just like straight honey -- so much better than the fake-sweet GU gels and doesn't make my stomach cramp or make me want to gag) every four miles and Endurolyte electrolyte capsules every six, with a bite of a granola bar thrown in there to keep the hunger down. I actually felt energetic throughout the whole run, didn't have hunger pangs halfway through, didn't feel like I was going to crap my pants or barf and didn't experience any leg cramping. Yes!

After the run, our group celebrated with mimosas, cupcakes and cookies (yes, all of this while stretching and wiping the trail dust off of our legs). This was our last long run before tapering starts. I've really grown to love this group, and I know I'll be thinking about them when I'm in Portland.

Can't believe it's only two weeks away!

ladybug

Found in the breakroom today: A chocolate chip cupcake with chocolate-peanut butter frosting. Yum.

these little piggies

Sunday's 15-miler took Neveia and me past these little guys. We just had to stop and visit with them. They were amazing -- when their curious snouts sniffed my hand, I felt like they were reading everything about me.

The pigs are part of Quivira Winery's biodiverse farming program. They're Gloucestshire Old Spots, a rare breed that in the '90s, dwindled down to only four animals in North America. And even though these cute little piggies will probably end up on the table at Healdsburg's annual Pigs & Pinot event (I'm trying really hard not to think about this), it's nice to see them running around and playing outside. And it's wonderful that Quivira -- which also farms its vineyards biodynamically, has a beautiful raised-bed vegetable garden and is home to honeybees and many types of chickens -- is helping to bring back a heritage breed.