Spring is officially here. It may have snowed this afternoon, but my calendar has let me know winter is behind us. With the changing of seasons, I’ve decided to add a new element to my Sunday cooking routine.
Salads!
My favorite meals can be enjoyed from one bowl. The right salad can make enough leftovers for weekday lunches. Salads seem like the perfect complement to my love affair with soup on a Sunday evening.
We kicked off this new family tradition with a winner. This one is seriously so good I know it will become a weekly craving.
Ingredients
1 teaspoon coconut oil
2 medium sized zucchinis, to make zucchini noodles
2 cloves of garlic, minced
1½ Tablespoons fresh ginger root, minced
½ cup red onion, chopped
1 carrot, sliced into small strips using a vegetable peeler
½-3/4 cup red bell pepper, chopped
1 cup shelled edamame, cooked
2 Tablespoons natural creamy peanut butter
½ of a lime, juiced
1-2 Tablespoons water (for thinning out sauce)
1 teaspoon chili paste (I forgot to buy this so I just used chili powder)
sea salt, to taste
2 Tablespoons fresh basil, chopped
2 Tablespoons chopped peanuts (optional)
Instructions:
Use a mandoline or hand-held peeler to make zucchini noodles. Set aside. (This
Mandoline V-Slicer works great.)
In a large skillet, heat coconut oil and sauté the garlic, ginger and red onion. Once onion is translucent and fragrant, stir in the red bell pepper, carrot slices and cooked edamame. Cook for 2-3 minutes.
Add a pinch of sea salt to the mixture, then add the lime juice, peanut butter, chili paste and a little water to thin out the sauce.
Place the zucchini noodles into the skillet and stir them around quite a bit so that the sauce coats them. Cook in sauce for about 8-10 minutes.
Remove from heat, plate and top with fresh basil and chopped peanuts.
We paired the salad with grilled salmon that had been marinated in Trader Joe’s Island Soyaki. It was the perfect pairing.
I set out to run my easy twenty minute recovery run this afternoon. I picked my favorite two+ mile route at the oceanfront: rudee inlet to the pier taking the alternative route back. I put on my garmin just to keep my running log up to date.
Slow and easy was my plan. I wanted to tune into my body to see if I felt any imbalances from the race on Sunday. I ran comfortable. I ran happy. My watch beeped just past the pier to let me know mile one was done. I looked down for the first time, and I thought my watch was broken.
7:51
I put on the breaks and slowed down. This was supposed to be an easy run. Every time I slowed down, my legs pulled me forward. I took inventory. Nothing hurt. I wasn’t breathing heavy. My legs felt great. I needed to trust my body.
8:26
I was still feeling great after mile two so I let my legs lead the way for the rest of the run. I finished the run at a 7:48 pace. I finished feeling like I could keep going. I finished, and my legs felt better than when I started.
I was very hesitant about my running before Sunday’s race. I was nervous about my injury. I was nervous about my lack of miles. I was worried I had lost what little speed I had left.
I’m not nervous anymore. I’m ready. I’m excited. I’m ready to tackle hard runs and longer miles. I’m ready to see what I’m capable of achieving this spring in my next two races, the Cherry Blossom 10-miler and the Flying Pirate half marathon.
It’s time to be brave. I’m ready to push out of my comfort zone. It just took a solid half marathon and a surprise speedy run to help me change gears!
In the Shamrock half marathon (and even the marathon), the turn on to Fort Story is a huge turning point in the race. The course changes directions. Heading north is done. The course is now southbound straight to the finish line. As I made that turn on to the base, I was overwhelmed with emotion for all my friends on the race course. I said it in my race recap, and it is worth repeating. I knew their stories. I knew what they were trying to achieve that day. All of them had worked their butts off to get to the start. I hadn’t fought the physical battle they had fought to show up feeling strong. My obstacles to overcome were injury and staying mentally engaged. I knew I had to let my mental strength carry me through this race because my body wasn’t ready yet. When I got tired, I pulled from the energy I knew they were using to run their own race.
To thank them, for inspiring me, for pushing me along or pulling me forward, I can gush and rave about them for a few minutes (in order of how they popped into my brain on race day!)
My friends and running partners, Leah and Laura (not always a duo, but on race day, together they were my rock) – I’ve trained with these girls, drank too many beers with these girls, and laughed way too much with these girls. We went our separate ways at the start line, but I promised them I’d do my best to catch them. Laura is a fast starter. Leah is a strong finisher. I knew the reality of seeing them on the course wasn’t likely, but I loved knowing they were in front of me the entire race. Both had races worthy of celebrating. We may have shared a beer or two together after the race too.
Me, Laura, and Leah
My true soul sister, Heidi (LoveEachStep)- we share a brain. Everything she feels I can relate too. Whenever I have a thought, a feeling, a complaint, an ah-ha moment, I know she will understand it. She was on a quest to beat her own PR on race day. I gave her a hug as I made my way to my own corral, and I knew she would be at the finish line just after I arrived. My entire race, I kept hoping she’d sneak up behind me.
Heidi and Me (and too many beers making fun of Leah’s beer face!)
Kim – We had Identical goals this race. If all went well, we wanted a 1:xx on the race clock. Sometimes I think we have identical hearts too. She lost her father just a few days before the start. I knew what emotions she would travel through during this race, and she showed up ready to run. The fact that she started and finished still amazes me. When I saw her around mile 11, my heart filled and sunk all at the same time. Honestly, I didn’t want to pass her, but I knew she’d kick and scream if I slowed down. I could tell she was tired, but strength oozed out of her. She was in her own magical bubble when I found her. I ran beside her and she told me to go (just like I knew she would). I blew her a kiss, told her I loved her, and ran for her and for me. My feeling of gratitude grew.
Me and Kim
Lesleyanne (BeachyRunner) – she was my sanity check this training season. She was my sounding board when I needed to decide between the half or the full. She was my sounding board when my ankle was injured. She kept me sane. I also knew she had really big goals for this race, and I also knew that she was about to race on less than ideal circumstances. As I approached the finish line, I kept hoping I’d find her with a huge smile on her face (sadly, I never found her!)
Me and LA (old photo but a favorite!)
Jess (The Fit Petite) – Our running resumes share far too many similarities.We both had nearly identical PRs going into this race. We both ran in high school, we both slowed down, and we both are on a quest to speed back up. When I was stuck at home on a bike while everyone ran, I quietly cheered for the success she found in her runs. Week after week, she got stronger and faster. It pulled me through my injury and pulled me through my race on Sunday. I know every runner is different, but I feel like she is paving the way for me. She has trained hard and found huge success on race day. She is proof that following the plan works! As I crossed the finish line, I hoped she was already enjoying a beer. (I also missed seeing her after the race!)
Jess with our coach Ryan (I don’t have one single photo with her. oops!)
And then there is my sweet friend Jenny! I’ve known her since elementary school. I didn’t see her on the race course. Our running has overlapped a lot in the past two years. We’d run a few miles together in a race, and then she’d normally leave me behind. I saw her husband (who deserves a pat on the back too! he broke the 1:30 mark on Sunday!) in the beer tent after the race. When I went to say hi, he told me she also broke the two-hour mark! (I get goosebumps just writing it). In the past two years, she has run her first half in 2:28, she’s had a baby, and she just made her come back by running a 1:59. I saw her as I was leaving the race, and it was the highlight of my whole afternoon. The picture says it all!
Jenny and Me
I adore these ladies. The running community and the friends I’ve made through life and through running make all of this fun, rewarding, and huge part of my life. Running feels like home. I absolutely love it!
Now, who can I convince to run the Flying Pirate Half Marathon in the Outer Banks on May 4th with me!
The story of race day didn’t start the moment I lined up (rather late) in the corral before being welcomed on to the race course. It started back in January when I knew I shouldn’t run any more miles on my ankle. It started in February when I took three weeks off from running to let my ankle heal. During that break, I wondered if I would even find myself on the race course this year. It started in the beginning of March when I ran my one and only 10 mile run since the beginning of December.
Saturday night as I was laying out my clothes for race day, I got a last-minute call from my coach. He was calling to remind me of what I’ve known this whole time: the shamrock half was my starting point. It wasn’t my finish line. He gave me a conservative pacing guide that would allow me to push for a sub 2 hour half marathon if my body was ready for it, but it would also allow me respect my ankle injury and lack of training. I was told if I ran anything faster than a 9:45 for the first mile, he’d knock me upside my head. After the first mile, I was to settle into 9:30s for a few miles, then 9:15s. When I reached the lighthouse, my plan was to ignore my garmin and run whatever my body had to offer. Whether it was a ten minute mile or an eight minute mile, my coach didn’t want me thinking about pace at this point in the race.
I arrived at the oceanfront with just enough time to check my bag and use the bathroom. By the time I made it to the starting corral the first four corrals had started, so I jumped in with the fifth corral. My friends Leah and Laura took off in front of me, and Laura’s husband Travis settled in next to me. Since I was three corrals back from my original corral, the runners around me started slower than my normal. This was perfect for me. I settled in and avoided weaving. After the first mile the crowds thinned out, and I settled into a very comfortable rhythm of running.
10:02
9:29
9:20
After the third mile, the race course takes you down Shore Drive. It’s probably my favorite part of the course. It’s tree lined streets are welcoming. During the fourth mile, I saw my dearest friend Sara (the girl who inspired me to run my first half marathon!). She’s pregnant and was cruising along. It was so great to see her on the course. As I approached the end of Shore Drive and the turn to Fort Story, doubt tried to creep into my head. What if I can’t do this for 13 miles? What if I am in over my head? And as quickly as the doubts appeared, they also disappeared. Another friend showed up in that moment on her bike in her sparkle skirt waving her cow bell. Go Kristy! was all i needed to snap me out of my mental funk.
9:14
9:10
9:10
As I made the turn on to Fort Story, I was greeted by wonderful wind gusts and an overwhelming sense that my race wasn’t about me. I knew my husband would be at mile 10 waiting for me. My mom and dad were at home watching my boys so I could run. I had friends all over the race course fighting for their own personal victories. My race was a joy ride. I was running a half marathon when three weeks earlier I hadn’t run in 21 days. I was contemplating deferring to the next year. Yet here I was running anyways. My body is strong enough and healthy enough to run 13 miles without much training.
The wind was strong on the base. Instead of fighting against it, I decided to let it welcome me. At this point, my legs were getting tired, but I knew I owed to myself, my husband, my parents, my kids and all my friends running that day to push to the finish line.
9:23
9:34
9:07
maybe my favorite race photo ever!
The turn off of Fort Story may now be my favorite part of the course (sorry Shore Drive!). After running through the quiet streets of the base, the residents of the North End are a happy sight. I had ten blocks to go before I knew I’d see my husband. As I approached 81st street (our street – the street we lived on, the street where he proposed on the beach, and the street where we said I DO), I realized he wasn’t there. It was okay. The kids were probably a pain in the morning. I’d find him. As soon as I accepted that he wasn’t there, he was there. Blue bike, shamrock hat, and cowbell. He was there to cheer me on. He got a quick high-five, a smile, and a thumbs up. I had run out of steam, but I had to keep going for three more miles.
9:12
9:51
I found Christian again as I made the turn at the Cavalier hotel. There was no more energy for high fives or smiles even though I was beaming on the inside. He got a thumbs up as I held on to the finish line.
9:13
8:21 pace
I was so relieved to make it to the finish line. I was filled with gratitude the moment I finished. I almost gave up on this race. I almost never showed up. I have a running coach who wouldn’t let me discuss it, I have friends who pulled and pushed me along the course. I have a kick ass husband and family. And I just set a PR in my half-marathon. Sure it wasn’t the 1:55 half marathon I intended to train for when I started this journey. But the success of this race is by far sweeter than any I have experienced so far.
I ran happy. My heart was engaged. My legs burned. And I finished feeling oh so very happy!
Official Finish TIme – 2:03:19
Knowing that this is my base for the rest of my running this year gives me hope that I have some really amazing races waiting for me. The post race was filled with so much celebration: goals accomplished, lessons learned, and some really big achievements (both clock related and not clock related) by all of my friends. I really feel so lucky to be part of this amazing community.
Cole lined up with his school to run the Final Mile race at this weekend Shamrock Marathon. He was ready to go. He wanted to run fast. This is his forth year running. He’s grown up so much. This race, every single year, is a litmus test for his growth. His times have improved. He’s approach has matured. He has gained confidence each year that he has ran.
When we found his school at the start line, I said goodbye, wished him luck, and told him to go run fast. He was all smiles.
He went for it. He went out hard. He ran fast. And then he ran out of steam. When he hit the boardwalk, he decided to walk. When I finally saw him, a few blocks north of the finish line, he was still walking and looking sad. I tossed my stuff to my mom and joined him on the race course. We don’t give up on ourselves. We try our bests. We have fun and smile. I tried to get him reengaged with his race. We could walk, but we were going to smile. He ended up running beside me to the finish line, but his somber face didn’t go away. He detached.
As a mom, this is the hardest thing to witness. I don’t care about finish times or even if he runs. But I do want him feeling proud of himself. That didn’t happen today. His spirits improved as we made our way home. He confessed he was disappointed he had to slow down.
Just like the past three years of running have been a reflection of Cole’s life, this year is the same reflection. He is changing and growing up. He’s entering the early stages of puberty. He wants to be ready to tackle life in the fast lane, but he’s not there just yet. He’s disappointed when he isn’t allowed or isn’t capable of making “grown up” decisions. He’s a kid teeter-tottering between boy and teenager.
He will learn and grow. It is part of growing up. These lessons he is learning at the age of nine (almost ten), I am still learning at thirty three (almost thirty four). My biggest fear for tomorrow is that I will do exactly what Cole did today. I will start too fast. I’ll run out of stream, and I’ll disengage.
Tomorrow is my chance to be an example for Cole. We can attack running (and life) too fiercely. It’s okay. Life is much more about how we react to situations than it is about how we got to that point. It’s our response to life that matters.
A wonderful friend reminded me of this today. If I show up at the start line tomorrow, if I just run, if I respond and react to what is going on in my body and my heart, I will have a successful race. I just have to show up and stay engaged. I have to embrace who I am and where I’m at right now. If I let my heart shine, I will have won.
It’s not the time on the clock or the pace on my garmin that matters. All that matters is that we are smiling at the finish line.
Kristy Maute 