Running/Eating Part Two - which is more about tangoing than running or eating...
Today I've found myself in the delightfully difficult position of having forgotten my lunch. In the past I've forgotten part of my lunch, but never the entire thing. I blame this on tango. I shouldn't, but I shall.
As predicted I limited my tango festivaling to a single blitz on Saturday. I think the reason I expect and am correct in my anticipations that a night out of tango will be so exhausting is that I do not pace myself well on the dancefloor. I know the rules. I know that in Buenos Aires (which we tangueras so desperately attempt to emulate as we throw around our spanish phrases and kiss folks on cheeks in feigned continental style), one picks and chooses and spends many hours of the milonga sitting, socializing, ingesting and imbibing.
I never have been able to master this part of tango culture. Part of it is my gauchely American urgency to squeeze a dancenight for every zesty drop. The other part is not. It is my fortunate burden to be popular with a significant enough number of leads (surprising since I rarely get out and am definitely not "known" in any weighty or profound sense) that I need not worry about demand for dances dwindling. In fact, because my schedule guarantees my presence at a given event to be something of an oddity, I am artificially more popular than I might be if I went out more consistantly. This means lots of dances. Which is great, but also hell on my body, because even when I attempt to leave the floor and rest, I seem to be dragged back onto it. I danced for about five hours straight on Saturday (considering my twelve hour record last summer in Bs As, I am ashamed at how much this hurts my feet right now), but still didn't manage to dance with (1) everyone I wanted to dance with; (2) everyone I'd promised to dance with; or (3) the indeterminate number of out of town dancers I very much enjoy discovering during festival events like this. Nor did I get to dance more than a tanda with any of my favorite partners. But at any rate, in the world of tango, I'd rather be overtaxed than undertaxed, even if it does mean limping around incoherrently hacking up a lung for the next couple of days.
As a side note, I met a tanguero from Kansas who runs marathons. This was somehow exciting to me, and I did get the chance to grill him briefly about his running schedule and reconciling dance with running, since one is so much of a free-floating-late-night activity and the other is one of those morning-oriented-highly-regulated activities. No amazing revelations, but it's inspiring to see others manage it. He was also quite the dancer - a musician, which definitely seeped through in his musicality.
But yes, I forgot my lunch. This is ordinarily something of a problem, but it is particularly damning on the day ordinarily scheduled to be my "long run." Considering I strayed from my training schedule by dancing myself into the ground on my "off day," I suppose it is probably wisest not to attempt an unrecovered long day, and so this is merely the final nail in the long run's coffin. I shall, however, attempt some sort of workout at least involving some running and my usual strength training - probably ten minute stretches of speedwork punctuated with strength circuits. And so, zenmeban?? There are a few restaurants in the area, but pittance and not particularly healthy or easily reached and my real concern is finding eats for before, during, and after the gym.
And so, I've raided the work snacks pile, fortunately having brought leftover cash and coin from this weekend. This is what I've come up with: (1) oatmeal for before my workout. This is about equivalent to a Clif bar in terms of nutrition and ease of digestion; (2) split pea soup - this is actually something I keep in my drawer, for such emergencies. It's high in protein and fairly nutritious. Waaay too high in sodium for ordinary consumption - my god, regular soup is ridiculously close to cornering anyone's daily limits on sodium - but sodium isn't such a bad thing to ingest after sweating a lot, I suppose; (3) a kudos bar, which should provide a modest energy burst mid workout - my second clif bar equivalent; (4) peanuts - high in calories, good about protein/carbs/good fats and easy to munch; (5) wheat toast. If I eat the wheat bread with the peanuts it's almost like my usual PB&J sandwich!
As predicted I limited my tango festivaling to a single blitz on Saturday. I think the reason I expect and am correct in my anticipations that a night out of tango will be so exhausting is that I do not pace myself well on the dancefloor. I know the rules. I know that in Buenos Aires (which we tangueras so desperately attempt to emulate as we throw around our spanish phrases and kiss folks on cheeks in feigned continental style), one picks and chooses and spends many hours of the milonga sitting, socializing, ingesting and imbibing.
I never have been able to master this part of tango culture. Part of it is my gauchely American urgency to squeeze a dancenight for every zesty drop. The other part is not. It is my fortunate burden to be popular with a significant enough number of leads (surprising since I rarely get out and am definitely not "known" in any weighty or profound sense) that I need not worry about demand for dances dwindling. In fact, because my schedule guarantees my presence at a given event to be something of an oddity, I am artificially more popular than I might be if I went out more consistantly. This means lots of dances. Which is great, but also hell on my body, because even when I attempt to leave the floor and rest, I seem to be dragged back onto it. I danced for about five hours straight on Saturday (considering my twelve hour record last summer in Bs As, I am ashamed at how much this hurts my feet right now), but still didn't manage to dance with (1) everyone I wanted to dance with; (2) everyone I'd promised to dance with; or (3) the indeterminate number of out of town dancers I very much enjoy discovering during festival events like this. Nor did I get to dance more than a tanda with any of my favorite partners. But at any rate, in the world of tango, I'd rather be overtaxed than undertaxed, even if it does mean limping around incoherrently hacking up a lung for the next couple of days.
As a side note, I met a tanguero from Kansas who runs marathons. This was somehow exciting to me, and I did get the chance to grill him briefly about his running schedule and reconciling dance with running, since one is so much of a free-floating-late-night activity and the other is one of those morning-oriented-highly-regulated activities. No amazing revelations, but it's inspiring to see others manage it. He was also quite the dancer - a musician, which definitely seeped through in his musicality.
But yes, I forgot my lunch. This is ordinarily something of a problem, but it is particularly damning on the day ordinarily scheduled to be my "long run." Considering I strayed from my training schedule by dancing myself into the ground on my "off day," I suppose it is probably wisest not to attempt an unrecovered long day, and so this is merely the final nail in the long run's coffin. I shall, however, attempt some sort of workout at least involving some running and my usual strength training - probably ten minute stretches of speedwork punctuated with strength circuits. And so, zenmeban?? There are a few restaurants in the area, but pittance and not particularly healthy or easily reached and my real concern is finding eats for before, during, and after the gym.
And so, I've raided the work snacks pile, fortunately having brought leftover cash and coin from this weekend. This is what I've come up with: (1) oatmeal for before my workout. This is about equivalent to a Clif bar in terms of nutrition and ease of digestion; (2) split pea soup - this is actually something I keep in my drawer, for such emergencies. It's high in protein and fairly nutritious. Waaay too high in sodium for ordinary consumption - my god, regular soup is ridiculously close to cornering anyone's daily limits on sodium - but sodium isn't such a bad thing to ingest after sweating a lot, I suppose; (3) a kudos bar, which should provide a modest energy burst mid workout - my second clif bar equivalent; (4) peanuts - high in calories, good about protein/carbs/good fats and easy to munch; (5) wheat toast. If I eat the wheat bread with the peanuts it's almost like my usual PB&J sandwich!