Dana Burland

Remember this guy ? Welp, he's dead. Four months is a short amount of time to kill the lowest maintenance of plants, you might be thinking. You'd be incorrect though — my terrarium was only alive for two months give or take. Sigh. When it comes to plants, it's a wonder how I even keep myself alive. To be fair, there were several things wrong with this project: The original container shape was not ideal. There were about seven inches of charcoal and soil; meaning it took a long time for water to saturate the soil and reach the surface, which in turn meant I watered the crap out of those poor succulents.  I disregarded my brown-thumb track record. Color me stupid, but I'm trying again. One of the four succulents from this graveyard is miraculously still alive and now living in a shallow dish with some new roommates on a nearby bookshelf. The old container? He's working out just fine for his foliage... of the fabric variety.

In addition to the bike gear and bagels my dad brought up north last week , he also brought me a copy of my great grandpa’s interview for my family tree project . I’ll spare you the inter-family debate over DVDs and VHSs this stirred up and just say finally getting this in my hands felt like a small miracle. I got some good QT in with my great grandpa growing up— as is bound to happen when ya live to be over 100 —but I had forgotten about his specific Grandpa Izzy-isms like his basketball-sized knees, handkerchief and thick European accent. There are lots of gems in the interview like hearing him talk about taking a job for $0.13/hour, confessing to his three (!) short stints in various European prisons, and his consistent I-don’t-know-how-but-I-know-I-can-learn attitude that led him to a string of successful self-owned laundry shops. And here I was thinking this guy spent his life pulling quarters out from behind kid’s ears.

Now get me a burger and fries. And a milkshake and a bottle of wine. Please. This weekend’s Zoo-De-Mack ride (my third? Or fourth?) was a success—a cloudy, slightly rainy, success. Our group was eight strong, but spent Saturday riding at various paces between my brother’s speed demon approach and first-timers-powering-through (not without a quick stop at the antique place on the route, mind you) style of Ben’s parents. Ben and I kept a really good pace through the first half’s rolling hills, only struggling for a few miles post lunch. Note for next year: eat speedy. Scenic views of Lake Michigan, congregation of friendly bikers and live music make it easy to linger at the midway point—and brutal to start up again. Special blog shout-out to my dad for not only hosting a full house of bikers at my aunt’s chalet this weekend, but also for schooling his 9th ZDM ride. I’m thinking next year he should ride 100 miles out and back to celebrate his decennial. Maybe the extra mileag...

Like a weird, gray-haired lady, I’ve taken to the squirrels in my backyard. There’s Gymnast Squirrel who, despite his oh so round belly, is capable of landing every tree-to-deck leap; and more recently a new, thinner, timid bushy-tailed deck visitor. Sometimes Gymnast Squirrel eats his slice of stale bread standing straight up. I don't know why, but it thrills me to no end. Last Sunday, Ben and I spent the day on operation buy a grill. Our deck is large and beautiful and we (well, not currently, but as of two weeks ago) have reason to believe we’ll have weather worthy of using it. The grill's maiden voyage: honey soy sauce marinated chicken. So yum. I can’t help but think that by putting the grill on the deck, we’ve officially engaged the squirrels in a standoff for deck domination. I hate to tell you four-legged friends, when it comes to the possibility of barbecued ribs, you’ll have to take your deck railing balance beam antics elsewhere.

Alright, fine, I get the excessive marketing now. I drive downtown every day for work, but I hardly recognized streets and buildings yesterday. The 5K was wrapping up by the time we got there and the 10K was starting to line up a few blocks away. Road racing looks good on ya, Grand Rapids. It was cloudy and winter-like cold with a temp in the high 40’s (yes, in May). For racing though, it was perfection. I ran a cautious, strong, comfortable and happy race. Around mile 3, one of my former college swimming teammates spotted me and ran beside me for a while. He pushed me a little at first, but I ended up pushing him and eventually losing him two miles later. The last mile wrapped around my office building and through a stretch of downtown I’ve run a hundred times. I got excited and turned up the heat a little too soon, but stuck with it as much as I could. Never has a little sense of nausea felt so good. My 10K race was 15K short of my original goal ; switching events was a rough ...

The concept of a Tulip Festival is a good one—especially, especially after coming off a tundra-esque winter. The Tulip Festival in Holland though? Meh. In fact our most memorable moment from this year’s fest was less about the flowers and more about the rat-like squirrel perched at the top of a pine tree, dropping “gifts” to unsuspecting flower gazers directly below. All in all, I guess both Ben and I hoped for… more flowers? Either way, we can check that off our ‘to do’ list.

Ben and I spent part of last weekend visiting friends in Kalamazoo. Alls I can say is, Kalamazoo night life—who knew? My favorite part of the night was our stop at the Kalamazoo Beer Exchange . Every night starting at 7pm, the exchange begins. Beer prices vary on the demand of bar goers, rising or dropping like stocks every 15 minutes. Twice a night the market crashes prompting everyone to buy low, buy quick and buy in bulk. Of course when the market crashed I was in the bathroom—my standard location when anything exciting happens. Thankfully, a tasty raspberry bev was ordered on my behalf.

Wellll, helloooooo there. Meet Ben’s new bike—a recent purchase that was not at all influenced by a month or two of my aggressive suggesting. Nope, I would never. This beauty, though? She’s exactly the kind of ride Ben needs for the extra biking we’re doing. Plus she’s red. And has pretty tires. This new addition has made us both more excited for the Zoo De Mack  in two weeks. Bring it, 50 miler.

Unfortunately for me, the River Bank Run does an excellent job of marketing. Street lights are decked out with banners, lawn signs have popped up all over town and postcard ads are on every horizontal surface in West Michigan. Even while trying to get the 25K  off my mind during a runner non-friendly lunch at Buffalo Wild Wings with coworkers last week, I caught a postcard ad on the table. Because why wouldn’t B Dubs be a race sponsor? Duh. The race is 10 days away and I’m scared. I’ve been struggling for a few weeks with knee pain, heel pain and fine maybe a little bit of intestinal pain from aforementioned B Dubs. And maybe from nachos, too. Running has been rough for me lately; I just don’t feel like my semi-speedy, lovin-runnin’ self. This race is going to be like a 100 boneless wings challenge to a non-competitive eater. All I can do—I keep reminding myself—is pace myself, listen and respect cues from my body  and enjoy the experience. It’s only 15.5 miles, after...