Running Shorts

To market, to market with Ted Allen

2008-05-07T17:16:00-05:00

I got a chance to chat with Ted Allen on Monday.
You know, he was the guy who taught the dull boys how to cook to impress on “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy.”
After filming 100-some episodes, the Emmy-winning Fab Five ended their reign on Bravo, but Allen is still calling the shots on Bravo - and the Food Network - as a judge on “Top Chef” and “Iron Chef America.”
He has also agreed to cook for the winner of Alltel’s new contest, “My Circle Reunion.”
This week even offered me some advice on shopping at our City Market.
“I look at that as such an opportunity,” he said. “My favorite thing about food is the diversity and the range and trying new things all the time.”
But I’m not fond of kale!
“When you go to the farmer’s market, the reason they have kale, as opposed to tomatoes, is that it is not time for tomatoes,” he explained. “Kale is relatively inexpensive. It’s very versatile and very pretty. There is a lot you can do with it. So why not buy what’s good?”
OK. So, go for the seasonal, even if it’s kale.
“Food that is in season is less expensive,” Allen said. “Food that is in season is fresh and ripe, ready to go, and it just makes sense ... rather than trying to import your grapes from Peru and hope they are still going to be good when they land in your supermarket.”
But how do you make kale taste good?
“If you see something you are not familiar with, ask the farmer,” he said.
I did that once with lima beans.
“The other thing I always have to remind myself of when I’m in a farmer’s market is to try to walk through the whole thing before you buy anything. Often I get seduced by a gorgeous heirloom tomato when I first walk in. I buy it, and then I go four stalls down and they have better ones for less money.
“You kind of have to get the lay of the land.”
YOU shop at farmers markets?
“Oh, yes,” he said. “I live in Brooklyn, and there is a farmer’s market the next neighborhood over in Fort Greene. I go there every Saturday.
“We are beginning to get some arugula, and a baker comes in ... but I’m holding out for the tomatoes. That’s my favorite thing.”
I think I will, too.

Big picture: Hartz takes over in Oregon

2008-05-05T20:36:00-05:00

Congratulations to Jill Hartz.
The woman who ran the University of Virginia Art Museum for 11 years has been named the new executive director of the University of Oregon’s Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art.
It’s big.
Big in size. Big in staff. Big in budget.
With 23,000 square feet of exhibition space, the JSMA is the biggest museum between Portland and San Francisco.
But this big move for Hartz also could have an extraordinarily big impact on Charlottesville.
Aside from the fact that Hartz is leaving town, there is the very real possibility that her family will want to go with her.
So, Hartz and her husband, Richard Herskowitz, are planning a little exploratory trip to Oregon later this month.
Herskowitz, as local movie buffs should know, has been the director of the Virginia Film Festival since 1994.
The artsy couple was at Cornell before arriving in Charlottesville. She was the exhibition coordinator and PR person for the university’s Herbert F. Johnson Museum. He spent 12 years directing the Cornell Cinema Program.
Their skills certainly have made a major impact on our viewing pleasures.
Word has it that he is still committed to this October’s festival, perhaps more.
Time will tell.
But, we wish them both the best.
And, hey, a Charlottesville-to-Eugene commute wouldn’t be out of the picture.
Would it?

Courage Under Fire

2008-04-30T18:46:00-05:00

Hero. It’s an overused word.
An athlete scores the winning point. “You’re my hero.”
A friend gives you a ride to work. “You’re my hero.”
A coworker spots you for a cup of coffee. “You’re my hero.”
A teacher puts his body in front of a door so 22 of his students may live.
That’s Liviu Librescu.
For May 1 - Holocaust Remembrance Day - the National Committee for Furtherance of Jewish Education released a 10-minute video honoring the Virginia Tech professor, who was shot four times as he blocked the door to his classroom.
Dr. Librescu, who survived the Holocaust as a young boy in Romania, died to save the lives of his young students on April 16, 2007.
The last words he said to his wife of 42 years when she dropped him off at work that morning were “Thank God.”
Hero is too small a word for such a gentle man.

Watch the 10-minute film on YouTube at http://youtube.com/watch?v=tEHm64RnjAs or at http://www.ncfje.org

Honoring 32

2008-04-16T15:58:00-05:00

Julius “Doctor J” Irving, No. 32, was the first basketball player I saw who defied gravity.
James Brown, No. 32, powered through offensive lines with the force of gravity.
Sandy Koufax, No. 32, made his debut on the mound the year I was born.
All of their jerseys have been retired, as have been those of more than a dozen other professional athletes who have worn 32. Steve Carlton, Bill Walton, Karl Malone, Magic Johnson are just a few of those inspirational 32s.

Today we honor 32 who wore maroon.

Ross A. Almeddine
Christopher James Bishop
Brian R. Bluhm
Ryan Christopher Clark
Austin Michelle Cloyd
Jocelyne Couture-Nowak
Daniel Alejandro Perez Cueva
Kevin P. Granata
Matthew Gregory Gwaltney
Caitlin Millar Hammaren
Jeremy Michael Herbstritt
Rachael Elizabeth Hill
Emily Jane Hilscher
Jarrett Lee Lane
Matthew Joseph La Porte
Henry J. Lee
Liviu Librescu
G.V. Loganathan
Partahi Mamora Halomoan Lumbantoruan
Lauren Ashley McCain
Daniel Patrick O’Neil
Juan Ramon Ortiz-Ortiz
Minal Hiralal Panchal
Erin Nicole Peterson
Michael Steven Pohle Jr.
Julia Kathleen Pryde
Mary Karen Read
Reema Joseph Samaha
Waleed Mohamed Shaalan
Leslie Geraldine Sherman
Maxine Shelly Turner
Nicole Regina White

Last August, Virginia Tech SGA president Adeel Khan spoke at the dedication of the April 16 Memorial.
“Take time to remember the legacies, remember the dreams and remember the talent that our community has lost. I hope you are inspired to work harder to honor the 32. Share your talents with the world for the 32. Achieve your dreams for the 32. Be more compassionate, friendly and thoughtful for the 32. Be better, for the 32.”

I run for the 32.
Whether I’m in a race or just running with my friends I wear an identification band around my ankle engraved with “Virginia Tech 32.”
Thirty-two will never be retired. Thirty-two is my inspiration.

GUEST BLOGGER: Easy Deb makes Monumental strides

2008-04-09T19:58:00-05:00

Run each race like it’s your last. Those were the words of Dawn Cromer, a women’s steeplechase runner who is heading to the Olympic Trials in June. She’ll be retiring from professional track after this season and thought she had been missing out on part of the experience. She now runs each race like it’s her last and is enjoying her sport more and more.
I will never be a runner on or near the level of Dawn. I didn’t even start running until I was 41 and I’m not what you would consider quick. But I’m still out there. I head to local races, pin on a number and take to the streets with a personal goal in mind. Sometimes, I stress myself out too much and don’t really appreciate what I’m doing.
Fortunately, I met Dawn a couple of days before the Monument Avenue 10K in Richmond. If there is a race that can humble a runner, it’s this one. Elite runners from all over take part. This year, it also was the U.S. National Championship 10K. The elite runners took off at 8:30 while the rest of us (24,000 people) were lined up behind. Heck, they were done well before my group even started. But I didn’t care. I was there for another reason - to do something I had never done before.
The Usual Suspects of running friends made the trip down. This time, it was five runners, two walkers and two cheerleaders. As I took my place in line, I met a woman named Tabitha. We started chatting, and I discovered that she grew up in Fluvanna. Our goal time for the race was similar, so we stuck together for a while. In the mass of humanity that was the corral, I heard someone call my name. It was Mark, a pal from 10-Miler training. Introductions were made and we nervously chatted to kill some time.
I mentioned to both of them that I get too stressed out and I need to remember to run each race like it’s my last. That’s when Mark said we should “Run for Greg.” Greg was a friend of Mark’s who started running just this year, got addicted and started 10-Miler training. One Saturday, he did a 7-mile run, just like the rest of us, ran errands, just like the rest of us, went home and took a nap, just like the rest of us. But Greg died in a fire that day.
I don’t recall ever meeting Greg, but I know he was part of my running group. On the last day of his life, we did the same thing.
When Mark finished telling Tabitha about that, she told us her boyfriend was a burn survivor and she would be proud to Run for Greg. Of course, we were all on the brink of tears at that point (there’s a reason they call me Easy Deb), and we all fought back emotions and changed the subject.
The race was beautiful. The temperature was brisk and a steady mist fell the whole time. Mark dusted us early on. Crowds lined the streets cheering. Tabitha grabbed some beads from a volunteer and handed me some. The pace was quick and we were all smiling. At mile 2, Tabitha slowed up and I was running by myself. Alone with my thoughts in a crowd of people.
At the halfway mark, I made the turn to start heading toward the finish. I could see thousands of people in front of me and thousands more heading to the turn. And then Greg popped into my head. And Dana. And Tabitha’s boyfriend. Run each race like it’s your last. Somewhere, I found a little extra energy. When I crossed the finish line, I looked at my watch and thought I had run a good race. I later found out it was my fastest ever.
Setting a personal best was great, but what was more important was that I enjoyed the experience. I didn’t stress out or worry or obsess. I had fun. When I rejoined my friends, we were smiling and laughing and trading snacks like fifth-graders. And somehow, among the thousands of people, I ran into both Mark and Tabitha again. We all hit our goals, and we all enjoyed every moment. We all ran like it was our last race.
Thanks, Dawn.

Forget the sixes, Devil Woman goes for seven

2008-04-01T19:00:00-05:00

Let’s hear it for Devil Woman.
It was one year ago that Doctor Amber got her nickname. Not because of a devilish smile. It was because she was No. 666 in last year’s Charlottesville 10-Miler.
This year, unencumbered by the Triple 6s, DW kicked up some dust. (I would have said butt, but our Devil Woman would never use a four-letter word.)
Anyway, DW put it in high gear, finishing an incredible seven minutes faster than she did last year.
Being so very un-Devil like, the Audio Doc credited her running buddies.
“With Nicole’s speed work and all you ladies cheering, it’s no wonder my time improved this year,” she said.
No one cheered for No. 666 last year. Most of her crew was in the race or off running Monument Avenue, which fortunately fell on a different date this year.
(More than 30,000 will toe the line for the Richmond 10K on Saturday morning.)
Those who line our 10-Miler course often encourage passing runners by calling out the numbers of the people they don’t know. No one cheers for 666.
This year, however, Amber had a support staff.
Fast Kathy was there with our pace dogs, Brook and Noah. Joanie was there with a cooler. Amy had her camera. You can see her video of Brook and Noah at http://youtube.com/watch?v=39XRnmdd0FI
Adelle with the “E” was there despite some painful dental work. Adell without the “E” also came out on the chilly morning.
Nicole and Caden were pacing the sidewalk by Bodos, coaching as each of us passed by. Megan was handing out water to runners heading up the Downtown Mall. Rocket was on the other end of the mall, making sure the competitors made the turn toward Water Street. Anne and Cindy were calling out splits at miles seven and eight. Easy Deb was on the Corner helping us make it up that nagging long uphill climb.
Yes. We have a very supportive running group.
Shoot, the whole town is pretty darn supportive. The Pep Band was in front of the UVa Chapel; an Irish band played on Rugby Road. There were rock bands on Second Street and on the Downtown Mall. Pink Ladies, adorned with feather boas and pink wigs, showed up on various locations along the route.
One of my favorite spots was near Evergreen, where neighbors draped a banner across the street indicating what path runners could take if they wanted to stop for donut holes.
Indeed, we had a lot to cheer about this year. Our speedster Eileen (a.k.a. 6.2) was the first of our rowdy bunch to cross the finish line. She ran a 1:36.30, despite some painful leg cramps. Trish (whose nickname is really not Cheese) was sick most of last week, but still shaved five minutes off her previous 10-Miler time. Heidi (who stole Devil Woman’s other nickname, Baby Pink) and Mimi conquered the hills of Charlottesville for the very first time. Maggie and Cathie B had strong showings as our veteran 10-Milers.
I was somewhere in there, too.
And there was a lot of cheering going on.
Unless you were 666.
With more than 2,000 people finishing the race, what are the odds that another one of our running buddies would get No. 666? Odd, but true. Judy E had to run with the upside-down nines.
And get this: Her time was 1:52.59.
Amber’s time last year - 1:52.56.
Now that’s devilishly fierce!

Do drop in on the Honey Dewdrops

2008-03-27T15:47:00-05:00

When Kagey Parrish and Laura Wortman write songs they say they like to link images of a forgotten past with contemporary words.

Some call it roots music.

They moved to Charlottesville last June. Richmond wasn’t quite as welcoming to the roots crowd.

The couple met in college. He, a Richmonder, attended Hampden-Sydney. She, a Western Albemarle High School grad who grew up in Batesville, graduated from Longwood University in 2006. For the past six years, they have been performing as the Honey Dewdrops. You might have heard them at Gravity Lounge, or the Outback Lodge, or Mono Loco, or Rapunzel’s.

“We like playing in listening venues more than bars,” Wortman said. “We played in Starr Hill before it closed.”

Their repertoire covers covers from old time to rock ‘n’ roll, but the duo also is building up a collection of original music.

They performed an a cappella folk song during the “Guy Noir” comedy segment of “A Prairie Home Companion” on March 15. That was the night they were named the champions of NPR’s Talented Twenty-Something contest.

Since they have been back home, Parrish and Wortman have had a slew of email on their MySpace page.

People loved their sound. They want them to see them perform. You might, too.

Check them out at myspace.com/thehoneydewdrops

I remember my first half marathon, I think

2008-03-19T13:16:00-05:00

They say I don’t see anything when I’m running.
Did you see the funny signs on the nearly three-mile wooded stretch along Shore Drive?
No.
Did see the big giant ships along the bay inside Fort Story?
No.
Did you see the girls who were singing as we rounded the corner on Atlantic Avenue?
No.
Hey, you don’t have to see to remember.
I remember weeks and weeks and weeks of training with my peeps—in the cold, in the dark, once in the snow—to prepare for my first half marathon, the Shamrock Half at Virginia Beach.
I remember saying “No. No. No. I’m going to run the 8K.”
But I run with a persuasive bunch.
I remember getting in the car Friday with Trish, Fast Kathy and Her-Mix-a-Lot Anne. I could see that the back end of the car was riding low with suitcases filled with shoes, green shirts and long black pants.
I remember sitting around an open pit fire at Catch 31, talking to runners from some place like Kansas or Nebraska. I can’t remember which.
Did you know there is a race in San Francisco where the finishers get Tiffany necklaces?
I remember the bathroom at the restaurant. When an architect tells you to check out the bathroom, you check out the bathroom. Swanky.
I remember FK sleeping on the balcony so she could listen to the waves break on the shore. I didn’t sleep well that night. I kept worrying she would roll off.
I remember the next morning ... we dashed outside to watch more than 5,000 runners finish the 8K. Matthew Kosgei blistered the boardwalk in 23 minutes and 26 seconds. (He told a reporter he could have gone faster if it hadn’t been windy.) It was a joy to see. The Kenyans and Ethiopians raced to the finish line ... one, two, three, four, five, six. A seventh finished in the Top Ten.
The women’s side was similar. Margaret Chirchir from Kenya was five seconds faster than Ethiopian Meskerem Legesse. But get this. Finishing third was Dawn Cromer from CHARLOTTESVILLE.
I remember watching many of those same champions lining up to run along with elementary school students in the Operation Smile Final Mile.
It was a good day to remember.
But then things turned a little fuzzy. Our turn was less than 24 hours away ... and two more carloads from Charlottesville were heading our way.
I do remember sitting around the hotel room later that evening chowing down on some pretty tasty spaghetti made by FK and HM-aLot for a party of 11. Even I helped cook. I sliced the bread.
After nervous toasts all around, the much too quiet newcomers—including Rocket and Jen who came all that way to provide much needed moral support and coaching tips—headed off to their rooms some 26 blocks away. They had been promised a shuttle, but apparently the service wouldn’t start until 7 a.m.- the exact time as the start of the half marathon. Nothing like adding to pre-race panic.
And did I mention that the rain began. And wind. The forecast called for gusts up to 35 mph.
Somehow I slept well.
But morning came early and the party of 11 reconvened at our hotel for a short walk ... into a brisk wind and drizzle ... to line up in our corrals.
“I left my timing chip at the other hotel,” Trish said.
“Is anyone else starting in Coral M?” asked Easy Deb.
“No, Deb. The corals are only 1 through 5.”
“Where’s my watch?”
“Where are my beans?”
“Anne, do you have your shoes?”
“I have to go to the bathroom one more time.”
“Let’s Go.”
It was cold. It was dark. It was time.
Oh, I realized a half mile into the race that I had put my knee brace on the wrong leg. I guess I didn’t remember which one hurt the most.
By daybreak, blue sky appeared and any hint of rain evaporated. There was still a Virginia Beach wind, but Fast Kathy found a cure. She tucked behind an extremely tall Hokie and took off up Atlantic Avenue. Trish and I fell in behind. The rest of us sprinkled among the friendly horde of hopefuls chasing their goals of traversing 13.1 miles.
Oh, I missed the signs and the boats and the singing and the beer stop.
I remember road and road and more road.
But I also remember Rocket on the corner of Atlantic Avenue waving, clapping and shouting for us to “Go!” Our injured leader was the one who talked me into the longer race.
I remember Eileen, better known as 6.2. She came from somewhere back in the pack to chat for a second—“I recognized your green shirt”—before dashing off to lead our rowdy group across the finish line in 2:06.16.
I remember Fast Kathy, who discovered her singing voice somewhere around mile 10. She was next in line at 2:11:57.
Trish ran up along side me as we approached Neptune for the final kick down the Boardwalk.
I remember that she said two words: Don’t sprint.
I, with my weary legs, said two letters: OK.
We grabbed hands, raised them high and crossed the mat together at 2:12:30.
Easy Deb, who returned to her normal self once the race began, chatted with friendly strangers all along the route.
“Have you seen my friends up ahead? They are wearing green.”
Did I mention that everyone in Virginia Beach had on green for the entire weekend-long St. Patrick’s Day festivities? Anyway, Easy shaved 15 minutes off her personal best to finish in 2:24.56.
After collecting our medals, finisher’s hats and goodie bags we were funneled off to an enormous tent on the beach, where Irish stew, four free beers and a live band awaited.
One by one, each member of our cult, I mean group, made her way to the welcoming tent for a little Irish water and a bit o’ dancing (at least for those of us who could stand). Enter Maggie (2:33.09), Adelle (2:40:46), Mimi (2:41.29), Anne (3:11.23) and Amy (3:30.30). Cheers, hugs and toasts all around.
Eventually, we made our way back to the hotel where we went out on the balcony and cheered on those who were still making their way to the finish line. The last reached her goal in seven hours.
Yes, I remembered all that.
And as for you—Cindy, Amber, Heidi, Julie, Andrea and Nicole—you better remember March 21-22, 2009.
I’ll see you there. I promise.

MJH 8K rains supreme

2008-03-10T18:00:00-05:00

I owe a lot to Martha Jefferson Hospital and its wonderful doctors and nurses and staff. So for the past five years I have tried to say “thank you,” in my small way, by participating in the MJH 8K Run.
It’s a challenging course, what with climbing the hills by the Omni and in Belmont. On Saturday morning there was the added challenge of the rain. It would have been so easy to pull up the blankets and stay warm and cozy in bed.
But I knew my teammates would be there.
Trish, Doctor Devil Woman Amber, Joanie, Easy Deb, Ralph, Maggie ... they would run. And, of course, they did. Very well, I might add. Despite the rain and slick roads, Trish bettered her time by a minute. If we had had chip timing, Joanie would have dusted us all, again. She started at the back of the pack and caught us easily. T, J and I finished side by side by side.
Oh, we are nowhere near the front of the pack. We are not 5-minute milers like Rob Cook. Shoot, I just feel lucky to stand in the same room with Julia Rudd, Andrea Wright and Nicola Ratcliffe. They collect trophies like I collect race T-shirts.
Some may say running is a solitary sport, but I disagree. There is a real camaraderie in Charlottesville. I had my teammates on the course and I had my teammates who weren’t in this year’s race.
Cathie B., Her-Mix-A-Lot Anne, and Prince Amy got up to run at 7 in the morning (an hour earlier than usual), so they would be finished in time to cheer us on. Fast Kathy ran miles from her home - with our pace dogs - to meet us on the hills and challenge us to “go, go, go.” There was our injured duo, Cindy and Rocket, who stood in the rain and served as our inspiration.
Oh, I may have finished 267th, but I felt like a winner.

Extra, get your Extra, for movie swag bag

2008-03-07T16:40:00-05:00

“Jake Tyler never goes looking for trouble, but it always seems to find him.”
That’s the first line of a press release describing Jeff Wadlow’s new movie, “Never Back Down.”
The plot, that Virginia Film Festival guru Richard Herskowitz describes as “The Karate Kid Goes to Fight Club,” is something like this:
Tyler - played by Sean Faris - was a high school football star in his Iowa hometown. But after moving to Orlando, the kid with the big heart is suddenly a fish out of water.
Well, boy falls for girl (Amber Heard). Boy gets beaten up by a bully (Cam Gigandet). Boy meets a mixed martial arts mentor (Djimon Hounsou). And ... the rest you have to see for yourself.
We already had a glimpse of the film. Wadlow, a Charlottesville native, showed us a preview during the Adrenaline Film Project at last year’s film festival.
At 7 p.m. Wednesday, Wadlow will return to show the entire film at a special free screening in Newcomb Hall Theater.
The movie isn’t scheduled to be released nationally until March 14.
“Jeff suggested to Summit [Entertainment] that they do a special preview here, and then called me,” Herskowitz said. “I called the students at Newcomb’s UPC Cinematheque to partner with us.
“They were already well aware of the film from all its Internet buzz and were thrilled.”
On top of that, Summit has sent a slew of “Never Back Down” merchandise to give away for free. Here’s how you can get some. Get a copy of the Extra section in the March 7 edition of The Daily Progress and take it with you to the screening. The first 25 people to show up with newspaper will get free stuff - caps, towels, lanyards and posters.
Here’s another tip. Go a little early. They plan to start handing out free movie tickets at 6 p.m.
Save me some popcorn.