Over on The Local's Toytown message board, some dudes said they'd opened a Mexican restaurant -- Maria Bonita -- just around the corner from us. The Local's Brett went and said it was pretty good but he was confused by the bacon in the tacos. I figured we're thousands of miles from Mexico and I'm against dogma, so I was willing to see it as a creative flourish -- though we all agreed bacon is too often used to mask a lack of something else.

But I still figured I'd give it a try. I had to.

Last night I picked Sabine up at the store and we pedaled over to the place at 33 Danziger. As we pulled up, my stomach sank. The tables outside were full. The bar along the window was packed and two chicas were even occupying the counter, flirting with the cooks. Even the dumpster and bench-sized building materials out front had been dibsed.

We debated leaving and coming back another time, but the menu looked fab and there was something about the vibe that made us want to stay. A friendly dude with a Spanish accent joked with us (and the ladies, man versteht sich) about Puerto Rican hip hop and then took our order while filling the drink order of those before us -- a skill never before seen in Germany.

We then waited just under 10 minutes for what is the best Mexican food I've had since leaving the Southwest for Germany's Northeast. My fish tacos were Hermosa Beach taco cart good and the wife's cheese enchiladas tasted as though the chefs at some chain Mexican place (Armadillos, for example) decided to care about the food. We didn't go for plates but they looked just as downmarket as I like a plata: Mexican rice, salsa and guac. None of it's fancy but it tastes fresh and spicy and the hipsters running in and out of the place are fun to watch.

The negative: the guac is a bit dull and tastes like green mush with cilantro, but it's a difficult food to get right and on home-made chips I didn't care much. And they've only got Corona or Astra. The Astra (a sort of Hamburg PBR) is a nice touch but Corona? Get me some Dos Equis amber, please.

We ended up getting two seats at the window but next time I want the dumpster.

Recently after a long run I found myself sitting at the dining room table with Martha. Having chats is one of the benefits of kids getting older (alongside other advantages such as them being house trained or their being able to fetch a quick beer from the fridge (wine corks remain an as-yet insurmountable challenge, however)).

"So, you run every day now, huh?" she wondered.

"Almost. Is that ok?"

"Well, it's better if you don't run now (in the evening). It's better if you run before we get up or after we go to bed otherwise we don't get to see you so much."

Sure, honey, you can have that pony.

But she had a valid point, not just for her but for my running in general. If I don't get out the door before the day starts, the chances of me running at all that day drops 50%. Life starts to happen and suddenly I'm pushing my run to the next day or the next day or the next day.

Take last week, where I'm pretty sure I battled a slight cold that was compounded by, well, life. I only got out there twice for a miserable total of seven miles. Part of it was my selfish wife who demanded she get to hit the road on Sunday, her only day off.

Imagine!

As a morning Muffel (German for grouch), I used to get nervous realizing that running blogs all had one thing in common – early mornings. But it also gave me an idea since I was also coming to terms with the early morning reality of Martha starting school – she has to catch the bus at seven. In my mind, I’m doing these early morning runs now to prepare for September when I’ll have to be up early anyway.

And Tuesday, frustrated by my performance last week, I jetted out of the house at seven and stopped by the track at Jahn Sportpark. Who was there? A friend who had just dropped his kid off for the bus to Martha’s Nelson Mandela school.

Maybe I’ll be able to combine chats with Martha and early morning runs. Synergies, you know.

Old, beat-up jalopies stalled by the side of the road are a rarity in Germany. And when you do see one, it's usually carrying Eastern European license plates -- Poland, Bulgaria, Russia.

I'm not being nationalistic, there's good reason -- mandatory bi-annual safety checks known as Tüv keep run-down vehicles off the road. The checks are performed by an actual engineer with an actual college degree and, after today, I can tell you they take a quick look at everything from the basic car mechanics to doors, seats and even headrests.

They even lift up the car, walk underneath and let the jack shake it back and forth to check the suspension (I'm sure another Tüv engineer checks out the jack to make sure it won't drop a 4300 pound Volvo on two diminutive engineers).

The check is known as Tüv because of the company that used to have a monopoly on the inspections. In the late '80s, Tüv was forced to break up and any number of engineering companies were certified to begin providing the checks. They even introduced a rarity in Germany -- customer service. Inspectors will travel to your local garage to take a look at your car while you're getting an oil change, or your winter and summer tires swapped.

This seems like a nice idea, but it's not. My old Tüv expired in June and so, while getting it done, I figured I could check out a new independent garage (the Volvo dealers have been expensive and crap). I took it in, and told them to change the oil as well. Several hours later I got a phone call -- there's no way, they said, the Volvo would pass the Tüv. The brakes were worn down and there's a pit in the windshield. What would the repairs cost? One thousand five hundred euros, at least.

Right.

He might have had me with the brakes -- they were completely redone five years ago and I only drive the car in the city, which probably isn't so nice. Except: I only drive about 8,000 kilometers a year. Brakes that only last 32,000 clicks? Maybe. But the thing with the windshield was preposterous -- it's passed three other inspections with different Tüv inspectors since I've had it.

"Our guy would never let that through," he said.

Right.

So I took it to Tüv myself this morning and 20 minutes after arriving I had a pink sticker on my license plate showing the Volvo had passed.

I was apprehensive about asking them about the brakes -- maybe they'd take a second look and repeal the Tüv I had just been awarded. But I figured, what with the kids often riding in the back and all, I should ask. Besides, like that criminal having acquiesced to Dirty Harry, I gots to know.

Mr. Engineer Man and his intern looked at me like I had just asked them to make balloon animals. The pads are only half worn, Mr. Intern said.

"You've got at least 5,000 kilometers left. They'll either start squeaking or a light will come on to tell you when they need to be done," Mr. Engineer Man said. And then they both smiled that kind of smile the doctor gives you while handing you a scrip for antibiotics in the midst of a bad infection. The all-will-be-well smile.

I'm against Tüv as a an unnecessary bureaucratic exercise that taps time and resources, but today I'm rethinking my position -- though had I not needed it in the first place, I would have never even thought about spending 1.5 large on brakes I don't need.

What I did to my knees in June (day, miles, time):



If you don't feel like doing the math, that's 63 miles. After running three times a week in May, I stepped it up to four times a week in June. I think that's the magic number for improvement. There was just one exception despite a weekend trip to North Carolina and a six-day respite on the Emerald Isle (which is indeed a very green place). The exception came the week I got back from all that travel -- I got weak one afternoon and opted to stay in the beer garden with bratwurst rather than run.

Although I added a run a week, my training plan only added one mile a week. But I still seem to have run 13 miles more in June than May. I'm guessing this is a calendar issue, not a math issue since Excel does all the calculations. I'm trying to listen to the advice of others about running. Everyone says to add no more than 10%, or about a mile, a week. So I'm not.

I've also begun doing intervals (the blue days -- yellow are distance). There's a good article here from the New York Times on why intervals are important -- and suck.

My goal is to keep increasing the weekly mileage and then fold in a training plan for a half marathon beginning in August. I won't have the miles to match the plan I want so I figure I'll just gradually merge the two. And then finish the season in November with a half -- either here, in Hamburg, or, for shits and giggles, in Mönchen Gladbach, the city nearest to the village where I spent a year as an exchange student.

Now I'm off to do four miles in this summer heat. Below is what my knees went through in May.