Some days, it's too early to run...

And sometimes, microwaves are not healthy.

I cannot stress enough how much I love hydration. (I love a lot of things, don't I?) I've gone for very few runs without some form of water; those runs have been enough to encourage me not to do it again. Whether it's 110 degrees or 10 degrees below zero, I always need water. If I'm running 10 miles or more, I also need some form of solid food. Enter my favorite water bottle...

This is what my favorite water bottle used to look like.

Wasn't it so pretty? I loved the soft handle that kept the bottle snug on my hand so I didn't have to squeeze it. The pocket was the perfect size to hold my keys, a fuel gel, and (on my really ambitious work days) my T pass, building badge, and driver's license. It holds 16 ounces of water, which is enough for about 13 miles, depending on the weather.

Well, now I need a new hydration system. And with this 26.2-miler looming ahead of me, my old 16 ounce water bottle doesn't seem like enough. I plan my routes to pass public drinking fountains so I can refill if necessary, but those will be shut off in a month or so. Enter my new favorite water bottle(s)...

There are MANY models of fuel belt on the market and I did a fair amount of research before I bought this one. By "research," I mean watching what other runners were using. For every other type of belt I saw on the road, I saw 5 of this one. That sold me.

What I love about this belt is the lack of bells and whistles. There are belts with comfort grips, but a friend who used one got bruises from the bounce. Some other belts have clip-closures with adjustable widths, but another friend said that hers kept loosening on her runs. My belt has no bounce and the stretchy, velcro closure is easy to fit to almost any body. It holds four 8-ounce bottles, which can be replaced fairly inexpensively with a 6-, 10-, or 12-ounce model. The pocket in the rear is my favorite part. I can fit three, count 'em, three fuel gels in that bad boy and still have room for my keys!

I'm going to have to think of a new excuse to delay my long runs... :) In other news, I'm up to 17 miles on the weekend! I'll try 20 this weekend and let you know how it goes...

Kitchen Things

My sweet, sweet boy knows me so well. After 6 years, I should hope so, but ya never know ;)

This was his gift to me for our recent anniversary:

I love it!

Let me tell you, friends, this baby has more uses than I ever thought possible. We had one growing up and we made banana chips and beef jerky. The end.

This weekend, I made fruit leather! 3 apples, one small pumpkin, some lemon juice, honey and agave, then 6 hours at 135 degrees... So good!

I think this is going to be a great tool for me next summer when we do the farm share again. We get so much fresh produce and can't get through it all. Besides, it would be wonderful to have some of that bounty to enjoy when the earth is frozen and less giving. What I love most about this is that I am taking whole foods and processing them myself, so I am in complete control over what goes into them. And honestly, y'all, this fruit leather was just delicious.

But it doesn't end there. There's fruit chips. Dried herbs. Soup mixes. Various dried meats. Craft projects. Dog treats.

Pictures and recipes to follow soon. Along with some holiday gift ides... :)

In other news, my sweet, sweet Mama sent me this little wonder:

It's a whisk-ula!

Seriously, it's a whisk with a rubber, spatula-type edge! It's great for those baking projects where you want to get every last morsel into the pan (or in your mouth). And it's fun to say.

Whisk-ula.

Whisk-ula.

Whisk-ula!

What's your favorite thing in your kitchen?

Wordle

Have you discovered wordle?

I'm in love.

Wordle is a program that generates a word map in which the size of words is determined by the frequency of their use. You can copy and paste text or paste the URL from any website with an RSS feed (like this one). Give it a try!

I ran this wordle from my last running post on Tuesday...

And this wordle is from just entering the blog URL.

How fun is this???

There's been a lot of discussion in the healthy living blog world about what message we're really presenting. I've seen some sort of response to the Marie Claire article on almost every blog I read. Maybe wordle is a fun accountability measure? It's silly, I know, but it sort of makes a great point. I mean, do we really talk about butter that much?

And if nothing else, it makes for a fun graphic.

So what would your wordle say about you?

*Side Note* I ran a wordle on some of my favorite blogs and was a little disappointed. Peas and Thank You, however, did not disappoint.

26.2

I am training for a marathon.

I am not a person who likes to make big statements like this. I generally think things through considerably and only make definitive statements when it is FO. SHO. I am also a person who sometimes ignores what is happening to me right now because it's easier. I'm a bit of a bull in a china shop. If things are tough, I just put my head down and ram through it. Shoot first, apologize later. I'll process my emotions some other time.

The reality of what I'm preparing for, however, sort of necessitates a big statement, I think. I've thought it through. I've paid the registration fee. This is FO. SHO. Unless injury or catastrophe physically prevents me from it. I can't ignore it. I can certainly ram through it like I do everything else, but then I think I'd be denying myself an opportunity for something awesome...

I don't know if I've made this clear yet, but I love training. I do! It's crazy, but I love the roller coaster. I love how every run feels different. I love that I can share it with a friend or run it alone and enjoy either way. I love running to music; I love running in silence. I love testing different fuel methods; I love seeing how far I can run without eating Cliff Shot. Mostly, I love how predictable it is. I have a plan. I put things on my calendar. Sometimes I need to skip a run. I plan around my runs. But I know what's coming and I love it.

This time, I have a plan. I'm using the same program I always use, only it's for a marathon. My oldest brother is doing it too. We're running a marathon together. We check in with each other sometimes. We're accountability partners...for a marathon. I mean, the emotional and intellectual gravity of it just overwhelms me.

Now, I know that thousands of people run marathons every year. It's not solely an elite event anymore. It's becoming an everyman sport. And I sort of love that. But I also love the sanctity of the marathon for the folks for whom this sport is still an elite event. The folks who work for years in order to qualify for Boston. The people who fundraise for organizations that matter to them. The ones who run for those who can't, who run for survivors, or the ones we've lost. I'm honored to be in their company.

So this is my statement: I am training for a marathon. I want to have fun and be proud of myself, but I also want to be worthy. So I'm asking you all to help me. Hold me accountable. Help me forgive myself when I fall short. Remind me what I'm running for when I forget.

Some days...

...I just can't get excited about vegetables.

These days are rare; I would guess I feel this way less than 15% of the time. But some days...

Some days I eat peanut butter and jelly for dinner. Some days it's a nice, healthy, PBJ smoothie. But some days it's just the good old classic.

Some days I eat mashed potatoes for lunch. I usually add butter, cheese, and maybe some facon. Or turkey bacon. I don't always feel bad about it.

Some days I cannot count the vegetable servings I've had all day, because I haven't had any. Or I've had too few to really count.

On these days, I usually trust my cravings. I rationalize, "Well, obviously my body needs something and it's telling me through my cravings." Nice try. I don't think my body needed that potato ravioli with the smoked pancetta and apple cream sauce at Anthem the other night. On these days, I give in. And my taste buds enjoy it oh, so much.

Today is one of those days. I'm going to blame it on this endless rain. (Hey, Milli Vanilli said I could.)

What do you eat when your body and your brain want two different things?

Love and Pumpkin. Preferably both.

I love this girl.

She is Steve's sister, and is alternately called Teen, Bean, Tina, and Christina. If you ever walk into a hospital and see her in the white coat, you thank your lucky stars because you've landed in the best medical care you're ever gonna find. She teaches me so much about how to assemble myself in a semi-cute way, what fearlessness looks like, how to shake off the words others sometimes throw at you, and how to be confident in myself--just the way I am.

For all these things and many, many more: I just adore this girl. I love her so much, I wanted to make her favorite cookies on her most recent visit home. Howeva...

I love her so much, I could not bear to make her cookies with 2, count 'em, TWO sticks of butter. That's like 1/2 a tablespoon of butter per cookie.

Teen's Chocolate Chip Pumpkin Cookies.

• 1 C. white flour
• 1 C. wheat flour
• 1 1/3 C. steel cut oats
• 1/2 tsp. nutmeg
• 1 tsp. cinnamon
• 1/2 tsp. allspice
• 1 tsp. baking soda
• 1 tsp. salt
• 2/3 C. sugar
• 2/3 C. brown sugar
• 2/3 C. applesauce
• 2 T. agave nectar (or honey!)
• 1 T. ground flax
• about 1 C. fresh pumpkin puree (or you can use the canned stuff, I just happened to have the real deal in the freezer)
• 1 tsp. vanilla
• chocolate chips in the amount of your liking (I used about 6 oz.)

Combine the flours, oats, spices, baking soda and salt in one mixing bowl. In another, mix the sugars, applesauce, agave, flax, pumpkin and vanilla just until combined. Fold the dry ingredients into the wet mixture, about 1/3 at a time. Add the chocolate chips, then spoon onto a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper (or not. I like p. paper because it makes clean-up a breeze and I think it keeps the flavor a little more pure, but that's just my craziness.). Bake for 10-12 minutes at 350 and try not to burn your tongue.

Here's the best part: I baked about 12 cookies, which was about half the dough, then rolled the rest up in some wax paper, froze it, and sent Teen on her merry way back to NYC with some ready-to-bake, stuffed-with-love, just-a-touch-on-the-healthier-side cookie dough. Or she doesn't even have to bake it--no eggs! Eat it raw if you want to, Teen! I won't tell anyone!

And speaking of 1%... These cookies can swing either way! If you're working your way slowly into the quinoa side of life, tinker with the flour and sugars a bit. If your personal pendulum is presently swinging the way of the pizza, go all in! Use 2 sticks of butter! I promise I'll still love ya.

Kohlrabi Latkes. Trust Me.

Ever seen one of these beauts?

It's okay, I hadn't either, until my brilliant CSA farmer gave them to me. It's called kohlrabi, which means "German turnip," although it's in the cabbage family. I first tried slicing and eating these raw on a salad. Really not a fan. But I think we've discussed here how much guilt I carry about wasting food. I'm also a touch on the competitive side, so the idea of being beaten by a vegetable just doesn't suit.

Now, there's an added challenge here: my sweet boy has a tendency to distrust vegetables. Something about an apple pie that was actually zucchini... I don't know. It's his emotional food baggage, I respect that. But I also need some help eatin' all these dang vegetables.

Well if there's 2 things I love, it's hanging out with people in my kitchen and promptly feeding them. So when our dear friends Nick and Kara returned from a long vacation recently, I was way too excited to have them over to play Medford's Test Kitchen. Luckily for me, Nick will eat anything and Kara is way too polite to ever tell me no. Ever. So together we tested an idea I had for using up these kohlrabi: kohlrabi latkes. We ate, critiqued, and tried again. Here is what we came up with:

Peel and grate these.

Finely chop this.

Do this to those. (You may want to squeeze them out with a couple of paper towels. If you don't get enough water out, you'll have soggy latkes. Gross.)

Crack these into a bowl with the grated business, plus a handful or two of breadcrumbs. (Or try Jessi's fab trick of making your own oat flour!)

Add these to the taste of your liking.

Do this in that. (I used canola oil. I use olive oil for everything, but I was frying these at medium-high, so I didn't want the oil to burn. Pick your favorite oil. Then tell me how much you love it!) Try 3-4 minutes on each side.

This made about 12 little pancakes, which was sufficient for two dinners for 2 people. I ate mine with soy sauce the first time we made them. This time I used sour cream and some Trader Jose's turkey chili.

Holler!

Can't Run With 'Em...

Can't run without 'em.

That's not entirely true. I'm attempting to transition to barefoot (or minimalist) running. The concept is polarizing and there is a wealth of information out there. If you're interested, join the debate. I may start talking about it here some day, but not today.

Today I just want to talk about my shoes.

About 6 months ago, I switched to these bad boys.

Nike Frees. Holler.

I'm using them to strengthen my feet. You see, I'd love to just jump into a pair of Vibram's, but my smart, talented, beautiful cousin Michelle recommended that I take a half-way step to strengthen my foot. I've always run in motion control, stability shoes. Mizuno Waves, to be specific. There are a few ways to find out what type of shoe best fits your arch. I'm a little bit of a pronator.

Ya don't say? Look at that right foot!

It's not entirely an issue of weak feet, either. I pronate for another very simple reason: I am slew footed. When I stand with my knees pointed directly forward, my feet do this:

No lie. Ask my Mama.

So last weekend, I headed out for a run, but I couldn't find my shoes. Don't ask me how I lost them; I wear them at least 3 times a week. But I couldn't find them. So I resorted to my old Mizunos. I didn't think it would be a big difference.

They don't look too different, do they?

PS-See all the dirt on my Frees? Yeah, that's from Fenway. It's okay to be jealous.

What was I thinking?

Let's start with the heels.

Look at that bad boy! We're talking about 2 inches of sturdy foam that for two years kept my foot from ever feeling my heel strike.

These puppies have taught me to strike on my midfoot, a little closer to the way human feet were designed to run.

Then there's the flexibility.

Try doing this to a traditional running shoe...

I did. It didn't work so well.

So after a mile, my fifth metatarsal (yes, I did look that up) was screaming. Honestly, my everything hurt. How was this possible? I was wearing a more supportive shoe; shouldn't I feel better?

It seems my feet have gotten pretty strong! They're strong enough that the rigid structure of my old shoes was too stiff for me. My feet have gotten used to flexing and arching and, well, working.

My only complaint about the Frees? Those cute little massager nodes? They were not designed for the blister prone.

So what do your feet love to wear?

Figgy Pudding? No way.

It's Fig Jam!

It's about jam time!

Jam-a-lam-a-ding-dong!

Oh, jam it all to heck...

(I'm sorry, my mother got the better of me.)

Last fall, Mrs. D. made this amazing fig jam and I have been desperately waiting for Papa Joe's fig trees to start raining.

The time, my friends, has arrived.

Here we go...

• 12-14 good-sized figs, washed and quartered
• 3/4 cup of sugar
• 1/4 cup of water
• 2 or 3 tablespoons lemon juice
• 1 cinnamon stick

Dissolve the sugar into the water over medium heat, then add the figs, lemon juice, and cinnamon stick and simmer.

Let 'em get to know each other.

Very well.

Very, very well. The recipe I was given suggested 1 hour. Perhaps my clocks were broken. 1 hour was much more like 2, but we all know how good I am at making mistakes, so I could have had the heat all wrong.

Wrong never tasted so right...

I assure you, that jar has been cleaned of all salsa flavors and aromas.

So I made some toast, spread some jam and discovered something:

I'm not a huge fan of figs.

What's a girl to do? Like most fruits, I like the flavor of figs, but am not too wild about them in high-density forms. But I do love Fig Newtons! I remembered seeing a recipe on one of my new favorite blogs, Peas and Thank You, for something like a Nutrigrain Bar. Perfect! I made a few modifications, and here you have it:

• 1 1/2C. wheat flour
• 2 1/2C. TJ's steel cut oats
• 2t. baking powder
• 1/2t. salt
• 1/4C. sugar
• roughly 1C. applesauce
• 1/4C. vegan "butter"
• Fig Jam!

Couldn't find the jam in the fridge? That's probably because it was hiding in a salsa jar.

Lessons Learned:

1. I need a rolling pin. The two doughy halves were very thick and a little dense.

2. The applesauce is a rough estimate because you just need to get the dough wet enough to be workable. You mix the dry, then the wet, then combine. If it's too dry, add more applesauce a little at at time. It's kind of like making play dough. Who knew all those years teaching preschool would come in handy?

Now... Can anyone think of a fun way to make Fig Newtons my own? I mean, Paul Newman got lucky. Fig Newmans? Too easy! How the sheez am I supposed to do that?

Fig Newt-agriffs?

Fig Carissatons?

Cafigsa Hanewtonagriffs?

Mmmm Sauce.

Alright, are you ready? It's sauce time. Hunker down, this is going to be a long one. That's how sauce rolls.

Let's start this party by making one thing clear: everyone has a different recipe for sauce and I strongly encourage you to make up your own. There are a few undeniable basic elements (um, tomatoes, duh), but otherwise, you've got a lot of freedom. And you know me; I almost never make it the same way twice. One rule I hold fast to: I only make sauce on the weekends. You'll see why.

So we've been getting plenty of tomatoes (to-MAH-toes, as my farmer calls them) from Luna Farm and I've been trying to be creative with them. When we got these bad boys from Steve's grandfather, however...

Please note that the cantaloupe is used here for size comparison purposes, not sauce-making purposes.

I knew it was sauce time. Steve's Papa Joe has been organic since long before organic was cool. He has more biodiversity and richer soil in a 20x30 foot garden than I've ever seen. It's just stunning. I'll post pics of him and his Garden of Eden soon!

So we've got these maters.

I always start my sauce with onions and garlic sauteeing in oil. Today I used half of a large white onion and one entire head of garlic from Papa Joe. Once those onions are a little bit softer, I add some aromatics. Take your pic. If you've got fresh stuff on hand, knock your socks off. The dry stuff works fine. I like rosemary, thyme and oregano. (Side note: I never cooked with thyme until I lived in Italy; I learned thyme as "thymo," so I have trouble calling it anything else. Please forgive, I promise not to go around acting like Giada. I will never, never, never pronounce it "pan-CHATE-tuh" or "moootz-a-rell-uh.") Many people use one or two bay leaves in their sauce. Please, dear friends, if you love me at all, please don't tell my grandfather that I don't use bay leaves. You see, I love to eat. So the thought of putting something in my food that I ultimately have to pull out is just upsetting. Please don't tell PeePaw I said that.

Steve's mom uses baby carrots in her sauce and I always find it a pleasant surprise, so I decided to try it. We had some white Luna Farm carrots kicking around, so I sliced them on the bias and tossed those in to soften.

In the meantime...

start choppin'.

Many people remove the skins and seeds from the tomatoes. I'd love to know where they find the time. Mrs. D uses some sort of contraption and that sounds lovely, but I don't have one of those thingamajiggies. I usually just leave 'em on and call it "rustic." Anyone who has a problem with it is welcome to come and make me some sauce. For now, I'm trying something new: the blender. (I know I promised you a cushy life, Blendie, but come on... they're just tomatoes!)

This worked beautifully.

Here's a step I would try next time: drain off some of the liquid. I thought if I pureed the tomatoes, it would make a bit of a paste while also chopping the tomato peels to smithereens, but it didn't quite work. Back story: I've been trying for ages to make sauce without using tomato paste. There is nothing wrong with paste. It's perfectly natural (provided you buy a natural brand) and, as Steve loves to remind me, even his grandmother used it (and trust me, her kitchen was the Holy Grail of all things delicious), but I'd like to avoid it. If I can make an entire meal using real whole food, I will be so proud of myself.

My pride will have to wait.

So once the onions, garlic, carrots, and spices are all enjoying their little party, pour in the tomato puree. Steve and I both like a few chunks in our sauce, so I added some chunks of tomato to the mix. As I said, most people don't like the peels. Peeling is a pain. When your tomatoes are this big, however...

It's no big deal to peel it by hand. Which I did. I squished up the chunks in a strainer to get some of the excess juice off, and tossed them into the pot.

Huge. H-U-G-E

And that's really it. Everything dances around on low heat for a while (I'm sorry, were you hoping for a time?) until your whole house smells like heaven and you wish it was raining cappellini.

One for the fridge, one for the freezer! (And yes, I reuse old jars without peeling off the labels...)

Then take some pictures and tell me how it turns out!