have Monty Python’s “Always Looking on the Bright Side of Life” sound track playing on a loop in her head?
Saturday was supposed to be a busy day–a visit with two friends to the New York Historical Society to view this exhibit, then a side trip to Tender Buttons, for, um, buttons. Because buttons are awesome. But a disappearing babysitter (for one friend) and the confluence of other obligations (for the other) at the last minute gave me a free day. This was disappointing, but ever the optimist, I made lemonade out of lemons as the Mister invited me to tag along to a karate event he was attending that evening. A friend of his (who also leads a dojo, but in a different style of karate) was hosting a fund-raiser for that organization’s grand master’s building of a new dojo in Japan. In the woods. With trees. All by himself.
That didn’t interest me all that much (ok, only slightly. The whole “build a building by hand” is intriguing). But the promise of sushi from Ushiwakamaru did.
The dojo was all fancied up for the event:
And the sake and beer were plentiful.
Ushiwakamaru’s sushi may not be Jiro-esque, but it’s way up there, even in the competitive NYC sushi environment. It was delicious. Even the stuff I typically don’t try (sea urchin for one) was amazing.
However, and let this be a lesson to you, running readers: several plates of sushi make for lousy fueling for long runs. The next morning I had a “fast finish 10 miles” on my docket (first 7 miles at an easy pace, last 3 at half marathon race pace). Two miles into this run, I started to feel shaky and unsettled. I made executive decision to continue on one mile to the closest starbucks (praying it was open the entire way) instead of turning around. Again, lemonade out of lemons. Thankfully Starbucks was open, and I chomped down on a bagel and a small iced coffee. After a 30 minute respite, I continued on my way, and actually even hit my paces for the last 3 miles.
And I’m glad I continued. I saw wild raspberries about to ripen. And some beautiful hydrangea and other unidentified because I’m not a botanist flowers:
Weekend plans may have gone astray, but everything turned out for the best. I’m getting tired of lemonade, though.