Perfectly Imperfect

I don't know about you, but I’m feeling twenty two-ooh!  Only kidding, it was just too tempting.  But let me start that again.

I don't know about you, but I believe that some things are just too good to be true, especially when it comes to my life.  This is why I’m always looking for the catch and waiting for disaster to hit, and then hit again.  This is also the same reason why I tend to take extra precaution; it’s why I check and double check, and it’s why I take two days off from running before race day rather than the usual one. 

So, being Miss Cautious McQueen, two days before Sydney’s city2surf, I decided to take extra precaution and give my legs some rest.  I also made sure to have sweet potatoes incorporated into my meals because I had heard that the little orange potaters help with muscle recovery.  Yes, I’m that paranoid, but no, I’m not crazy. 

The day before my race, I packed and repacked the backpack that I would be carrying to the event.  I made sure to lay out my running outfit along with a sweater and a pair of sweats.  T-shirt, check.  Shorts, check.  Socks, check.  My bib was ready with its four safety pins dangling off the sides and my Ipod shuffle was fully charged and fully loaded.  I had a bottle of water and a pack of Gu in case I needed it.  Life was great.  Things were looking great.

The next morning, my alarm woke me up at 6:00 and I jolted out of bed.  I prepared my usual breakfast bowl and was out the door at 7:40.  My start time was set for 9:05, but I figured that I would give myself an extra hour in the case that I got lost or had an hour’s worth of trouble finding the starting line.  So, with my backpack in tow, I made my way to the bus stop, hopped on, got off at Hyde park and made my way to the information booth.  It was 8:05.

“Excuse me,” I asked, “Could you direct me to the bag drop off booth?”

“The bag drop off?  They closed it at 7:30”

“Wait, like, half an hour ago?

“Unfortunately…”

“So, what do I do with my backpack then…?”

Now, let me just explain here.  This backpack was not some teeny tiny backpack for toddlers, nor was it a wimpy little Jansport.  This was a real deal backpack.  It was actually made for triathletes to transport their gear as they switched events.  So, in other words, the length of the backpack pretty much went from my shoulders to the tippy top of my bum.  It was the real deal.  I could literally carry a child in there if the need came about.

So there I was, looking around the park, and I realized something.  There were two types of people at Hyde Park that day.  Those with backpacks, and those without.  Which group did I belong to you might ask?  Well, neither, because those with backpacks were dressed in civilian clothing, and those without backpacks were dressed like they were about to run a 14-kilometer race.  And then there was me.  So, I guess there were three groups of people there that morning: spectators with backpacks, runners without, and me, the sad in-between misfit.

If you can’t tell already, let me just tell you how desperate and stressful this situation was.  I had my Ipad, my wallet, and my passport in my backpack.  You know how they tell you to carry your passport with you everywhere when you’re abroad?  Wrong.  Don't carry it to a race when you’ve missed the closing time for the bag drop off. 

I actually considered walking to a convenient store and paying the clerk to hold my bag.  I also considered giving my bag to a random stranger.  I don’t even know how this would have worked or what I expected from a total stranger. Did I expect them to be cheering for me as I crossed the finish with my bag in one hand and an ice cold Gatorade in the other?  The desperation was slowly affecting my sanity.  My next consideration was definitely more on the sane side, but still not completely void of insanity.  I considered just tossing the backpack, sweater, and sweats, and just running with a small bag that contained my more valuable belongings.

I was executing the final details of my plan as I was walking towards the start.  I would throw my backpack into a bush right when the race started and after the race, I would grab a bus from Bondi Beach back to Hyde Park and retrieve my belongings, knowing well in advance that the chances of them being there in the bush were slim to none.  And that’s what would happen.

Long story short, that didn’t happen. 

I was walking to the start, and to fully understand this, I’ll need to paint a picture using numbers to illustrate the scale of this race.  Sydney’s city2surf is the largest race in Sydney, and the sixth largest run in the world in terms of participants.  There were approximately 85,000 runners registered this year.  So, what’s the point of all this?  The point is that I didn’t get to throw my backpack into a bush.  

Once I got to the start, I was somehow pushed into the center of the road, and last I checked, bushes don’t grow in the center of streets.  There were tons of people to my left and right, and so I did what anyone else would do in this situation.  I unstrapped my backpack and threw, hoping it wouldn't hit anyone, but would land all nice, snug, and hidden in a nice bush.

Only kidding.  I snapped the buckle on the front of the pack, tightened up the straps to prevent the pack from bouncing too much, and mentally prepared myself, and my backpack, for the run. 

And you know what I realized?  So much of everything is mental.  It’s all what you make of it.  Once I accepted and committed to the fact that I wasn’t going to be running this race alone, but with a large companion strapped on my back, it wasn’t half bad.  I even set a personal record for races run with a backpack!  In all seriousness though, it was actually a really fun race!  I actually feel like having a backpack helped me keep my mind off of the difficult parts of the course.  Instead of thinking about how difficult the hill was, I would wonder how much easier that hill would be without a backpack, and before I knew it, the uphill had become a downhill! 

The whole experience was a great one on perseverance and mental strength.  At the end of the day, life is what you make of it.  It’s ultimately up to you to take whatever’s handed to you, and make the best out of it.  You can’t prevent every disaster from ever hitting you, but you can prevent these little occurrences from ruining a good thing.  Life isn’t going to be perfect all the time, but I’ll tell you something, it can definitely be perfectly imperfect. 

So, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.  And when life gives you a backpack, run with it.

Carpe Diem

Seize the day. 

The first time I heard this, I thought the meaning of the phrase had something to do with fish.  Alright, that was a lie.  I literally thought the meaning of the phrase had absolutely everything to do with fish—specifically carp.  I just might possibly be the most intelligent being on this planet, I know.  I’d like to use young and dumb as an excuse, but the truth is, I was not so young, but I was definitely dumb. 

Now, being not much older, but a wee bit wiser, I know better.  I know that the meaning of carpe diem has absolutely nothing to do with fish; however, I also know that sometimes, seizing the day has completely everything to do with fish—specifically fish at the fish market—and even more specifically, fish at the Sydney Fish Market.

The Sydney Fish Market at Pyrmont Bridge Rd, Pyrmont, NSW 2009, is open Monday to Friday from 7:00am to 4:30pm.  If you happen to be in the area, I’d definitely encourage you to stop for a visit regardless of whether you see fish as friends or food. 

Being completely hopeless at navigating and directions, my only advice is to follow your nose.  The smell of fish was ever present and the closer we got to the market, the more intense the smells became, and the more and more excited I was.  This positive relationship, however, only holds if and only if a fish market is in the equation.  I'm not that weird.

But where do I even begin?  I honestly asked myself that several times today on several different occasions.  Should I head to this fish shop first or that one?  Should I grab some shrimp or scallops?  It's a good thing the market is opened five days a week, because the shops are plentiful and consequently the fish are plentiful, which could only mean one thing.  The difficult decisions were just as plentiful.

Lucky for me, those difficult choices and decisions would have to wait for another visit because I was actually at the fish market for one reason. 

This is the Barramundi, a fish native to Australia.  Extremely popular amongst the locals, the Barramundi is a flaky, white fish with a mild, buttery consistency.  I purchased some diced salmon and a Barramundi filet from the market and prepared it for dinner and it's instantly become one of my new favorite fish! 

I also had the chance to try a few freshly shucked oysters from an oyster bar.

This was my first time having oysters, and they were hands down, the best oysters I've ever had.  They were extremely fresh and delicious!  I know I sound like a kid in a candy store with my obnoxious levels of enthusiasm and excitement, but trust me.  Trust the big kid in the funky, fishy candy store.  

Carpe Diem.

Remember when I told you carpe diem meant sieze the day and had nothing to do with fish?  I was not that young, but a wee bit dumb.  Now, I'm a few minutes older and a few experiences wiser, and I know better.  It actually means sieze the day, head to the Sydney Fish Market and try some Barramundi.  It actually has everything to do with fish.  So, go.

Carpe Diem and happy eating!

Yours,

Kimmy

I Suck.

Yes, it’s been a week since my last post.  I suck, I know.  But you know what doesn't?  The beach.

I never actually realized how much I loved the beach until I moved away from home to attend college, where the nearest beach was a good three-hour car ride away.  We literally made it to the beach once during the school year and it was literally a mini road trip.  There were snacks, sing-alongs, twenty questions, the whole she-bang, but that’s beside the point.  The point is we only made it to the beach once.  Can you believe it?  But as sad as that sounds, trust me, it’s a lot more than a few of my friends could say, and their school campuses are literally plopped on the beach.

This brings me to another realization.  I swear the closer you are to the beach in proximity, the less you appreciate it.  There is a very, very, negative correlation there, but it makes sense though.

I’m only kidding.  It makes no sense at all.  It actually makes negative sense.  After finding out that my friend was more often not at the beach than she was at the beach, I actually made a pact to myself to never become that person.  I, Kimberly, would never be that girl who lived by the beach, but rarely went.  As much as I adore her, I, Kimberly, would never be my friend.

And aside from blogging about Centennial Park, I am a woman of my word.

As of today, I’ve been here in Aussieland for a week, and also as of today, I’ve been down to Coogi Beach four times.  It’s actually not my fault; the beach calls out to me like the Sirens or something.  Only kidding, but actually though, Coogi Beach is stunning, and that is an immense understatement.  

 If you’re ever in the New South Wales or Sydney area, you must do the walk from Coogi to Bondi Beach.  The East Coast Beach Walk is actually a 6-kilometer walk from Coogi Beach to Bondi Beach.   

It’s currently listed as the number one tourist attraction in the Sydney area, and rightfully so.  This “walk” takes you up stairs and through cliffs and cemeteries.   

There are several lookout points and benches, a.k.a. opportunities, along the way to simply take a moment to soak it all in.   

It sounds ridiculous now, but trust me, it’s not as ridiculous as the scenery, and you’ll find yourself wanting to take advantage of these stops along the way, especially if you plan on running the trail.   

Because a picture is worth a thousand words, I’m going to assume that several pictures should be worth several thousand words, so I’ll stop my blabbering and let these pictures do the talking.

Yours,

Kimmy

Finding Success in Failure

Sometimes I set goals, and no matter how hard I try, I never manage to reach them, but what I've realized is that it's ok.  In fact it's even better than ok.  It's life, and it's great.

Take today for example.  I woke up bright and early with the intention of going on a nice little run around the city, because sometimes the best way to discover and really get to know a new place is to get completely and totally lost in it.  But  mind you, I had goals.  And not only that, but I had a well thought out plan of how I would get lost in the city.

I would make the 15 minute jog from my campus to the beach, and from there, I would run up the coast until my legs could carry me no more.  Once I reached that point, I would force them to carry me more, and back to my comfy, cozy apartment.

Here, I'd like to actually take a moment to give a shout out to life for never going according to plan.

Of course, the run started out great, but after about twenty minutes, I realized that not only was I not getting closer to the glistening ocean or any coast whatsoever, but I was also seemingly getting further and deeper into the city.  I was probably heading the wrong way.  About approximately ten minutes after my first realization, came another--I was definitely heading the wrong way, because I found myself at a park.  But it wasn't just any old park.  I actually knew two things about this park.  One, it was called Centennial Park.  How did I know that?  There was a large sign above the entrance.  And two, Centennial Park was no where near the beach.

Being a semi-decent runner actually goes hand in hand with being an awful blogger.  I don't know if you've ever seen a runner carrying a large camera, but I haven't and I was not going to be the first one to attempt such a feat.  At least not today, but tomorrow I might consider it.  For the sake of this blog, tomorrow I will be a horrible runner, but I will carry a camera, and therefore, be a better blogger.

Long story short, I ended up going for a nice long run, and came back with nothing more than a craving.  This happens every time but today the craving was for something in particular.  A donut actually, but not just any donut.  The strawberry donut!

If you ever find yourself in Glendora, specifically, 915 E Rt 66, Glendora, CA 91740, do yourself a favor and go to The Donut Man.

Known for their seasonal donuts, The Donut Man has been featured on several Food Network shows, and for good reason too.  I didn't get a chance to try their peach donut, but their strawberry donut was delicious!

Instead of having a hole in the middle, the strawberry donut has a pocket that is very very generously filled with beautiful bright red, plump and juicy strawberries.  Trust me, they don't skimp out on the berries, but it comes at a cost.  These donuts will run you $3.25 a pop, but I thought it was worth it!

So, if you've just finished a nice long run, or even if you haven't and the craving is real, and if you happen to be in Glendora, or if you're willing to make the drive, be sure to stop by The Donut Man!  They're open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week!

If you're not in Glendora, but in some other country like I don't know, Australia or something, you might have to join me in my search for a comparable post-long-run treat.  I haven't come across a donut shop here yet, but maybe tomorrow will be my lucky day!  If not, at least I'll have pictures from Centennial Park...if plans work out.  However,  with my luck, I'll start off heading to the park, but I'll probably end up at the beach.  Honestly though, that's life, and I'm not gonna lie, I love it.

Yours,
Kimmy

Just Because

It's funny how quickly and how suddenly things can change.

Just yesterday I was home and it was summer.  My individual pores were sweating and my face nearly melted right off.  Today, I'm in a completely different part of the globe and it's winter.  As for my pores, they're crying silent tears and my face--trust me, my face isn't going anywhere.

Today, I also moved into an apartment for the very first time.  My very own apartment.  I feel like I aged years in the span of a day.  Just yesterday, I felt like a child.  I was free to roam about and do what I pleased.  I had no commitments, no responsibilities, and no obligations.  When I was tired of being at home, I went out to Target and bought makeup wipes just because (I'll try not to get too wild now).  It's funny to think about how many things you do as a child just because.

But today, I went out to the grocery store to literally buy groceries and toilet paper.  The day you go to the grocery store for broccoli and lettuce instead of ice cream and chips is the day you know you're a grown up.  And the day you have to buy your very own toilet paper for your very own apartment, well, let's just say that you should probably start browsing catalogs for a sturdy and stable walking cane because you'll be needing it real soon.  Life just got very real very quickly.  And who knew that toilet paper was all it would take?

By my definition, I'm an adult now.  Also by my definition, most things I now do need justification.  There should be reason and purpose behind what I choose to do and commit myself to.  I can't just live my life all willy nilly and do things just for the sake of just because anymore.  However, being an adult, I also realize that there is an inner child within me, and this child likes to do things, such as hiking and climbing.  Why?  I don't know, just because.

So let's talk hiking and climbing.  Let's talk the Cave of Munits.

Located on 24477 Vanowen Street, West Hills, CA 91307, the Cave of Munits is in El Escorpion Park.

To get to the cave, you follow the dirt trail and stay left until you see a break in the fence.  From there, make a sharp right and there should be a dirt path that leads straight up to the opening of the cave.

Now once you reach the mouth of the cave, you should probably consider releasing your inner child because the hike gets a little tough and the climbing gets even tougher.  The cave is comparable to a chimney in that there is an opening at the top.  If you follow the rocks and practice some careful climbing, you end up right above the opening in the roof of the cave.  And let me just tell you, the view is stunning!  Definitely worth the numerous close calls you're bound to have getting up there.  I'm going to be a naggy mother for a brief second, but be careful!  And remember, what goes up, must come down, and climbing is no different.  And I'm not going to lie, the descent got a bit tough for me, but if you're up for it, the satisfaction and the view is a good enough reason to attempt the climb.

Or if the view isn't good enough reason to attempt the climb, you could always just do it.  You know, for the sake of doing it.  Because that's just as good a reason as any.  You could always do it just because.

Happy careful climbing!

Yours,
Kimmy

I Like To Do Things.

Do you ever have days where you just want to do things?  Not just one thing, but plural--things.  That was yesterday for me, and so I did, things, that is.

The day began with the Santa Monica Farmer's Market.  The Santa Monica Farmer's Market on 2640 Main St., Santa Monica, CA 90405 is a great way to spend a Sunday morning.  Honestly speaking though, any farmer's market is a great way to start any morning.  They're just so full of goodness.  That's an understatement actually.  They're so full of greatness that I wish I could just bottle it up and eat it. 

Speaking of eating, there was a lot of that going on at the market.  The market is filled with vendors selling items from homemade pesto to vegetables to juices and breakfast burritos.

We left the market with a pouch of Habanero pesto, a nice baggie of squash blossoms, and the most gorgeous-smelling bundle of lavender.

From there, we made our way over to Santa Monica's Coopportunity Market on 1525 Broadway (16th & Broadway), Santa Monica, CA 90404.  In all honesty, this was kind of like a farmer's market in the form of a grocery store.  It would be a great place to head to on days the Santa Monica Farmer's Market isn't up and running.  If you're into the whole clean eating, juicing, mason jars, and kale type of scene, this place can be your home away from home. 

After that and a bit of aimless driving, we ended up at 1100 N. Main Chinatown, Los Angeles, CA 90027.  Well, to be exact, we ended up in the parking lot of the address listed above, and to be even more exact, we ended up at Ricky's Fish Taco stand.  Let me just say now that this has been on my to do list since ever so naturally, expectations were running ridiculously and unnecessarily high.  Let me also just say that despite this, Ricky's did not disappoint, not even in the slightest. 

Just a forewarning, Ricky only operates on the weekends.  He's usually there Friday, Saturday, and Sundays, from 11:30 to 4:30 pm.  Because of this, lines run long around the lunch time rush, but no worries!  The line moves fairly quickly, but to help it move even quicker, I'd advise to have your smaller bills ready.  Yesterday, Ricky had fish and shrimp tacos and Horchata.  The tacos run three dollars a pop and the horchata I believe was one dollar a cup.  I ended up with one of each and it was beautiful.  The experience was beautiful.  The food was beautiful.  The crunchiness of fish was ridiculously beautiful.  And I left that parking lot one very fat but very, very, happy camper.

Remember how I told you how much I like doing things?  Well, I was being serious.  The day didn't end there.  In fact, the day didn't even come close to ending there. 

We hit up Urth Caffe on 451 South Hewitt Street, Los Angeles, CA 90013 next for some dessert and drinks.  By this time, it was a bit after lunch time and the place was hustling and bustling with Sunday brunch-ers.

We ordered a Bavarian fruit tart, a green tea latte, and a monkey granita, which was espresso in a fresh banana milkshake. 

Need I say any more...

All my friends who know me could probably vouch for me when I say that I am a huge believer in balance and moderation.  Shop in moderation, eat in moderation, breathe in moderation...only kidding.  But really though.  I believe most things in life should be taken and done in moderation; however, when it's a day before you're about to jet set off to a completely different part of the world, forget moderation and please, follow my lead and stuff your self with fish tacos, cake and organic coffee.  Trust me.  You and your now smiling soul will thank me.

From Urth Caffe, we headed to the American Apparel Factory Outlet where we could not only walk off what we just had, but also shop.  In other words, we could kill two birds with one stone, and boy did we.  

If you're ever in the area and I don't know, you're in need of some wardrobe staples, just head to that giant pink building on 747 Warehouse St, Los Angeles, CA 90021, park your car, walk up the stairs to the factory outlet and release your inner shopaholic.  You may leave with a slightly lighter wallet and your soul might not be smiling, but I can guarantee you that your inner shopaholic's soul will definitely be grinning.  Mine's was.

And that's all folks.  Only kidding.  We headed home after that, but the day was still young and the adventures were far from over, but that can wait for another day.  As I said, I like to do things, but most of these things don't involve typing on a computer screen, so until next time, happy adventuring!

Yours,

Kimmy

The Start of Something New

This could be the start of something new and the start of something as beautiful as Troy and Gabriela's little high school musical romance.  Or it could also just be the start of little-ol'-Kimmy's little ol' life blog. 

It's funny.  I'm starting this blog right as my summer is coming to an end--literally.  I leave for Australia tonight, and trust me, I'm beyond stoked!!  But I also can't help but feel a bit bummed at the same time.  I'm gonna miss this crazy city and these crazy people I call my family and friends.  You don't even know how many times I've offered to carry them around in my pocket to accompany me on my travels.  Unfortunately, no one has ever taken me up on that offer, but lucky for me, my beautiful blog, I have you.  You will be my new (I'm going to hold off on the "best" for now) friend, my travel buddy, soul mate, life companion...we're getting serious up in here!  But actually.  When all else fails, and my friends refuse to pop into my pocket for a journey down under, I know you'll be there. 

It's going to be great.

I know it already.  I can feel it. 

This is the start of something beautiful.  This is the start of something new.