The Pizza of my Youth

Adornetto’s was an unexpected but great addition to my pizza list. As a kid we would go to Andornetto’s almost every weekend for their salad and pizza! If you look on their website they proclaim themselves as one of the top 100 pizzerias in the country, so this place is as good as I remember it! We loved our trips to Adornetto’s with our friends the Moore’s. They had a player piano that was played by a ‘ghost’ and a love meter that told you how ‘hot’ you were! So on a recent trip to Ohio, when my brother told me we were going to Adornetto’s for dinner, the answer was an excited ‘great’!

 

We started off on the only way you really can at Adornetto’s, with their house salad. Loaded with mozzarella cheese and a delicious Italian dressing, it quickly took me back to my childhood! There was no doubt in my mind this was the best ‘addition’ we have had. For the pizza we landed on the garlic cheese pizza. It was great of course, and I did manage to sneak a regular piece of cheese and pepperoni in there as well! So, after another successful and fulfilling pizza trip, here is how Adornetto’s ranks:

 

Sauce=3

Cheese=4

Crust=4

Toppings=4

Overall=4

Additions=5, House Salad with Italian Dressing

Total Score: 24/30, and nothing but great things to say about all of my trips to Adornetto’s!

The Albemarle Sound

#9 on my 30@30 list was Teach Again. This was a tough one for me to decide on. I truthfully did not really want to include it as something to do this year but I knew if I didn’t force myself to I would most likely regret it the rest of my life. For years now I have wrestled with teaching, especially in secondary education. I have sworn off ever going into a classroom again only to become determined to return to teaching the next day. It has been back and forth since I left my full-time teaching job 7 years ago, and through those years there has been only one constant, I had not tried it again. So I did.

At some point in my high school years I decided that I would grow up and become a high school social studies teacher, a basketball coach…and maybe tennis, live somewhere in the south preferably North Carolina (not to far, not to close), and find a place as close to the beach as possible. When I finally reached college I declared myself an undecided major. It seemed way too reasonably to follow in the family footsteps and choose right off the bat a career in education. However, after only one semester I gave in and made it official. Despite contemplating switching majors many times, and a horrible student teaching experience, I graduated and passed my license exam to become certified. And then lo and behold, after a month of searching, I landed my dream job!

I still think about that year of teaching in Currituck, North Carolina…every. day. Over the past few years I tell people the biggest regret in my life is leaving that place. But I can admit, it was hard, right from the start. I really struggled with teaching high school, being away from my family and Amy, and adjusting to such a different culture. After the first three weeks I returned to PA over a weekend for a wedding. I remember stopping for the night at my friend Matt's house in D.C. and venting so much frustration about education and how much I hated it. It is hard to admit but I made up my mind teaching wasn’t for me 5 months into it.  But I’ll get to that.

I can name a few reasons why I wanted to teach again. 1) After spending 7 years trying to do everything I could possibly do to get away from teaching, I had gotten nowhere. The only option left, really, was to return to the classroom against my own will. 2) I know…that when I lived in NC I hated my life most days. I was miserable. But most of my thoughts now were that I could have done it…it would have gotten better. 3) I remain very passionate about education, and I still LOVE to teach, but how would I know if I still hated the classroom if I never took a chance and tried it again? So I put my name on some substitute list (it sucked, I was miserable filling out these app.’s) and got called in March from Eden Christian Academy.

It was amazing how it all came back to me so fast…at least how much I disliked it! I couldn’t stand most of the middle school classes, they were so immature and irritating. After period 2 I was bored out of my mind and had drank my weight in coffee. You know what’s amazing about education right now? With all the advances and supposed improvements in how we teach, TEACHERS STILL GIVE HANDOUTS. In the middle of all this, however, I LOVED being a part of a community again. I LOVED how when I came in next time to sub the kids were excited to see me and laughed at my dumb jokes as if they were the greatest thing ever. I LOVED the few moments when I got to teach something for real, and they listened.

I am very, very glad I taught again this year. I had to do it. I have tormented myself for so long over my decision to leave Currituck. And sitting here now, I could be a teacher for the rest of my life. Would it be my dream job as I had believed in high school? No. But it would be a great job, and I could do it. There is so much more I wish I could write about teaching…but this point in my life is not the time, maybe in a few years when I can go a day without thinking of Currituck.

It was a cold, clear night in late December 2004. I was the JV coach for the Currituck basketball team and we had just gotten crushed by Bertie, a school located two hours away in the middle of nowhere North Carolina. I had almost gotten in a fight with the clock operator. The A.D. was driving the bus home, and the head coach and I were in the front 2 seats, talking a little about the team and the school. After a while the A.D. turned to me and said “hey look out your window, that’s the Albemarle Sound we are crossing.” The sound was big and the bridge took a while. It was a beautiful sight, with the sky melting into the still cold black waters. I thought how odd it all was that I would find my life here, on a bridge, crossing a sound, in a place I didn’t know existed until now. I closed my eyes and immersed myself in an imaginative reality, in which this WAS my life, for the next 35 years; The A.D., the coach, the players, the sound…and I thought I could do this, and I smiled. The next day I returned to PA and Ohio for Christmas break. And when I drove back down to NC I had made up my mind to leave after only one year in Currituck…. #9: TEACH AGAIN

Cheeseburger Pizza in Paradise!

One of my favorite parts of running in any race is the meal that night, when everything is over and all you feel is STARVING! After Amy’s marathon we demolished a Chinese buffet! When Amy finally woke up from her post-race nap in VA Beach (I hurt too much to sleep) we took to the streets to find a good place to dine. Our intentions were not to end up at a pizza place but alas, we did!

Doughboy’s Pizzeria is a local chain found up and down the main drag. It is decorated in a very beachy, almost Hawaiin theme. One of the reasons we picked it is because it was not far from our hotel and I could barely walk! It was empty after the race and as I proudly wore my marathon finisher hoodie we dug in to some terrific food!

We started with a very simple yet hot and fresh dish of French fries. I am kind of a fry fanatic and nothing looked better than that first plate of golden fries. They were lightly seasoned with garlic and surprisingly a great finger food to munch on as we waited for our pizza. For the main dish we settled on their specialty Cheeseburger Pizza. With a blend of cheese and thick cut rounds of ground beef it was a great choice! As the pizzeria name suggests, their crust was very doughy, but not in that “this is undercooked way”, but in the “this is soft and fluffy way”. We finished all but a few pieces which we took back to the hotel to consume as a late night snack!

Here is the ranking for Doughboy’s garlic fries and cheeseburger pizza:

Sauce= 3

Cheese= 4

Crust=4.5

Toppings=5

Overall=4

Additions=4, Basket of Garlic Fries

TOTAL SCORE: 24.5/30. Doughboy’s Pizzeria was a great choice for our post-marathon race and I would happily go there again! For this 30@30 item, Doughboy’s stands strong in second place!

The Tide will take us Out

We were on hour 4 of the canoe trip and every paddle was a battle against my will to give up. The narrow waterway winding through the tall reeds had finally opened up to a wide river, giving us hope that the end was near. After another hour and the end nowhere in sight the river seemed to grow longer with each tug of the rope tied to the canoe behind us. The day had begun with joy and another beautiful sunrise over the ocean and now it was ending with the sun dipping slowly beneath the river ahead. I glanced over the side of the canoe, staring down into the water that had seemed all week to be majestic and soothing. Now it looked black and ominous, seemingly stretching for miles beneath the surface. I started paddling again, thinking every second that I wouldn’t be able to finish this…

After I saw Amy at mile 13 the marathon course took me north of the hotels for the second half of the race. My first half time wasn’t bad and I still felt great. I had settled in to a nice rhythm and was running with a smile and the sun in my face. The day before I had created a marathon mix on my IPOD, to be used when I got bored or started to feel tired. Around the 15^th mile I turned it on and it instantly got me going again. I kept thinking I only have 11 more miles, I had run that so often in my training…I got this.

At mile 16 I got a nice surprise when I saw Amy’s parents standing on the side of the road! When you run a marathon without a partner it can get lonely, and familiar faces cheering you on and beaming with pride can get you through countless steps. I told them I was doing great and had some water. They wished me luck for the next 6 miles, at the end of which I would circle back around and see them again. I was doing great and felt the home stretch creeping up slowly but surely.

I almost didn’t run the marathon. In the week leading up to the race I became very sick. It started Monday, and by Wednesday I had a temperature over 100 and could barely move. I was defeated that week, unsure what I would feel like once Sunday hit. Marathon’s can be a very dangerous endeavor, every race people are pulled out for serious medical dilemmas. As I hit mile 17 my nose began to run. It sounds weird and it was a strong warning that my body was shutting down. A few hundered yards later my heart rate jumped to the point of some minor chest pains. I had run the whole thing up to that point but made a quick decision I had better take a break. I began to walk…and began to battle.

I didn’t start running again until a little after mile 18. Only a few miles before it felt like I was so close to the end and could cover the manageable distance left. Now it seemed like an insurmountable distance to finish. To make it worse the course took us through another military base, this one without any fans or marines to cheer us on. It was quiet and lonely. My marathon mix had reached its end and I began to really struggle.  Earlier in the race I heard a woman quote some wisdom and a warning: “When you run a marathon it doesn’t matter what religion you are, at mile 20 everyone sees Jesus.” Mile 20 is the common wall most runners hit, but for me it was mile 17-24. I walked and I ran, alternating until my chest began to hurt again. At mile 22 I saw Amy’s parents again, this time without much of a smile or many words. They wished me luck and encouraged me to finish it.

Throughout the race Amy had been receiving text updates about my progress. This is a great thing because you can tell where the runner is and how much more they have and even their estimated finish time. After I saw Amy at mile 12 and 13 she received a couple more updates. But since I was slowing considerably she began to worry and hope that I was okay. The last update came at mile 20. By mile 23 numbered streets began to appear. The marathon finished at 32^nd street and I was at 84^th street. I began to break down my distance, telling myself I would run for 10 streets then walk for 2. This helped for a while but then it just didn’t seem to matter and lost track of where I was.

Finally, with about 2 miles and seemingly years to go, I decided to make a last push and run until the finish. And just when I needed it I heard people cheering wildly for me and looked up to see the cutest cheerleader there running full sprint at me with her hands waving in the air. It was Amy, and our friends Elsbeth and Andy, and they had come to see me home. They were so excited for me and stayed with me until the final stretch. They promised me the finish was close and encouraged other spectators to cheer me on. Without them I would have walked the last two miles, but with them I ran most of it. As I turned the final corner and reached the boardwalk and the final stretch I felt nothing but happy. I was finishing a dream that had up until now seemed lost. I ran across the finish feeling complete.

Since the race was sponsored by Yuengling every runner was given four free drafts of beer and a bowl of Irish stew at the end of the race. At mile 18 the thought of this stuff made me feel sick. After I finished it was the best drink I had ever tasted and definitely the most deserved! We celebrated on the beach until my legs were about to give out and then headed back to the hotel for a very welcoming rest.

Amy told me after that she was worried I wouldn’t finish. I agreed, knowing it was all I had to make it happen. But after years of only wishing I would run a marathon, nothing would have stopped me from crossing that finish. It was an awesome experience and I am so glad I did it!

The sun had set and twilight was disappearing. Our canoe trip had become somehow peaceful. Nobody was talking, the only sounds were cutting of the paddles through the water. As we reached hour 8 we finally heard a scream and saw the finish, the rest of our group and the dock. We had made it. As we pulled into shore none of the guys said anything. We piled into the van and went to a shower house to clean up for a much needed seafood buffet dinner. With that shower all of the struggles and turmoil of that canoe trip were washed away and we dined in pure bliss of what we had accomplished. Running a marathon was the second hardest thing I have ever done. And in those moments when I was alone and felt like quitting I thought of that trip, of my friends and family cheering me on, and I knew the only choice was to keep moving forward, and trust that tide to carry me home. …#1: RUN A MARATHON.

The Tide will take us Out

“So when are we leaving?”  “We will start paddling out around 2, that is when the tide will take us out and it won’t take much more than a couple of hours.” I was at the end of a week- long backpacking trip on an island off the coast of Georgia; one of the most amazing and serene weeks  of my life. Along with 6 other guys we had spent the week exploring the vast palmetto leaf covered trails, leading us to deserted beaches, ancient ruins, and confrontations with armadillos and wild horses. But we had reached the end and it was time to head home. The girls on the trip outnumbered the guys almost 2-1, and they had canoed in, the guys took the ferry to the island, but now it was our turn to canoe out. With every canoe tethered to another canoe filled with supplies we shoved off at 2, remembering Steve’s words that the tide would take us out.

After an hour we could still see the island shoreline we had just left from. After 2 hours we were in the middle of tall grass and nowhere near the mainland. With the Georgia sun beating down on our backs our frustrations were endless. Never in my life have I wanted to quit something so bad. With each stroke of the paddle, the tethered canoe rope went slack for a brief second, and then yanked us back; stopping any momentum we had hoped to gain. EVERY.TIME. After three hours hope had abandoned us and all that was left was silence interrupted with the occasional swear word and muttered statement of “this is unbelievable”. After such an incredible week it seemed impossible to end on such an unforgiving note but it was impossible to focus on anything but the harsh reality that the tide was working against it.

A few months ago I finally accomplished a long sought after dream and #1 on my 30@30 list: Run a marathon. In college I had gone down to the Pittsburgh marathon to watch my friends run in it and felt inspired to someday finish my own. The problem was I didn’t like running enough. Sure I would do it, a few miles here or there when the weather was nice. But up until 8 months ago it was nothing but something that I would never get around to. However, they say if you want to run a marathon, you have to sign up first and then start training. So I signed up first, in August of 2011. There were no refunds either so I knew it was happening.

My training started out okay, filled with sunny fall days with cool breezes. I would run around college hill, a nice little community, listening to good music and thinking about how far away the marathon seemed. On Sunday’s I would even run later in the day and listen to football games on the radio. The winter time was a little tougher. My runs became longer, the days became shorter, and the weather became uglier! The day I ran 15 miles it was 30 and snowing huge, wet, snowflakes. Despite wearing multiple layers when I finished I was soaked to my skin, shivering, and just plain mad. Once February hit it became real. I only had a month or so to go. Whether I wanted to do it or not, it was going to happen!

I picked the Virginia Beach marathon for a few reasons. 1. it was flat course (I won’t lieJ), 2. It made it all seem more adventurous and worthwhile than running somewhere close, and 3. It was by the beach! And while I struggled through 15, 16, 18, and 20 mile runs, time continued to move and before I could run another step it was marathon weekend!

We left on Friday and stayed in a hotel right along the main avenue in Virginia Beach. We could see the ocean and boardwalk from our room and I couldn’t help thinking upon arrival that I would rather be here for vacation than a race! We took it easy that night and Saturday. As much as I wanted to hang out on the beach or go exploring I knew Sunday was going to be a big day and had to remain my focus. I thought I would have trouble sleeping the night before but I didn’t, I even went to bed early! And when I woke at 6:30 the next day, it was to a beautiful sunrise and a growing crowd of spectators outside my hotel window!

I think one of the most excited parts of running a marathon is the start line. As you line up you are so overwhelmed at first by the number of people, all of which seem to look in much better shape than you! You are filled with excitement, nerves, anxiety, fear and uncertainty of what the next few hours will hold. I felt all these things standing on the road in Virginia Beach plus one extra thing…I had to pee! What awful timing! Thankfully our hotel was right after the start. So as the race began and I crossed the start line I immediately stopped, made a right turn into our hotel lobby and the bathroom! When I came back out I was shocked to see everyone had passed by already, even the truck bringing up the rear of the race. I freaked out a little bit, ran a bit too fast, but eventually joined back in the pack of people heading south along the coast. I didn’t feel settled in until about mile 3. At that point I encountered the only “hill” on the course, an overpass arching clear of a waterway taking boats from a harbor out into the ocean. As a reached the summit I looked over at the vast blue waters and sunny skies I realized that all the nerves were gone and I was left with only excitement for finally running a marathon!

My best miles were 7-9. I ran fast, I felt great, the DJ’s along the way were playing great music. Mile 9 took us into a military base where we circled a path through all the barracks. Near the exit marines had lined the road, going nuts and cheering their hearts out for us. It was an awesome experience running through the middle of them! Around the bend was a last chance boys home, and under the surveillance and example of the marines, the troubled teenage boys had lined the road to go nuts for us, yelling our names and giving us high fives and fist bumps. I wonder if those boys will ever know what a difference they made in my life, if only for a brief minute?

The halfway point was back in downtown, right after a mile of surreal running on the boardwalk. As I turned the corner and started running through the towering hotels, I heard someone screaming my name! It was the cutest dressed cheerleader there, Amy! She ran with me for close to a mile, giving me some snacks and water and telling me I was doing great. When I asked her why she was wearing flip-flops and not running shoes she told me running shoes were not cute enough with her outfit and she was fine! Seeing her after the first couple hours of running was definitely a great pick me up. Finally I told her I was ready to go on by myself and I would see her at the finish. I didn’t realize then as I headed down the road without her that things for both of us were going to get tough until the end…To Be Continued to the Finish Sunday…