Six easy-peazy, healthy and delicious recipes to keep you fueled up, energized throughout the day, recovered and ready to hit the pavement. When it comes to making food, I try to approach recipes with simple values:
Is it real or made with nutritious ingredients? Is it balanced? Is this a reasonable portion?
Can you feel it? The Fiercely United Virtual Run is almost here!
To celebrate the friendships, the miles and the soon to be consumed post-race victory
cocktails (!) Tori and I decided to share two little vignettes about the BRFs (Best Running Friends) who will be running alongside us come race day.
Mel + Lindsay :: 13.1 BRF Team
She is the text message before a big day or a big moment. 
She is the ‘just because’ gift you receive because it made her think of you. She runs races with you not for the medal, but for the moments. She gets on an airplane and travels across the country because you need her. She is the friend you want to see truly happy because of all the smiles and generosity she has given you.
She is late nights, glasses of wine, dancing with your hands up and laughing until you cry. She reminds you that you can be carefree and grounded all at the same time.
I am blessed to have this friendship.
Along with avocados being a must have, must do, must eat in our diets, mangos have also made a roaring comeback when it comes to popular health food and good eats. They’re also ripe and in season, so they’re the perfect summer treat as a snack or side.
You know what makes them even more delicious? Slicing them up and pairing them with an avocado!
This recipe, the second in my Avoca-DO’s of Summer (see the first recipe here!), is super low on prep time and high on taste. I felt like a top-notch chef when I put it together. And, as food presentation goes, it looked so pretty! The bold and juicy flavor of the mango pairs perfectly with the creamy texture of the avocado (and let’s be honest, avocados don’t really taste that great alone).
This dish literally took minutes to make, and it was a perfect summer snack. I could also see making a lot more of it, cutting it in small chunks, and using as a side salad to chicken or fish. Try it. You’ll like it.
“There is an underlying purpose and meaning behind my training, always. It isn’t about the next race or the next workout. It’s about fitness and fortitude for the next test around the corner that I cannot see.” –Kristin Armstrong
Last year my test was running 26.2 unexpected miles. As my sister, for my sister. I made the decision to do it about 14 hours before it started.
My sister had signed up to run the Cellcom Green Marathon in hopes of qualifying for Boston. Several months into her training she was told she had to have surgery and it was scheduled for two weeks before her race. Her health had to be the priority, so instead of being in Green Bay, she was home and resting, post-op, as she should have been.
Endometriosis. This lovely autoimmune disease invaded both of our bodies during our late teenage years, (a gene passed on by our mom I assume, since she has it as well) and has wreaked havoc on them ever since. There is no cure, there is no one treatment that works for everyone and it remains to be very much of a medical mystery. Hers most recently has attached to her ureter, mine attached to my bowel. Our symptoms have included period pain, non-period pain, cysts, ruptured cysts, UTI’s, bloating, food sensitivities, constipation and irritable bowel. You learn to live with pain. Menstrual pain, pain with going to the bathroom, pain with intercourse or pain while just sitting and doing nothing. There are random moments when it suddenly feels like you’ve been stabbed with a knife and it’s not so cool when it happens around people you don’t’ know very well and you’re suddenly hunched over, sweating and need to leave the room. It honestly never really makes sense as to when a symptom with strike.
I gave him /yellow/. Run because you can. Run because you get to. He’ll tell you that it wasn’t easy. He’ll tell you that it hurt and wasn’t a lot of fun at times. He’ll also tell you that it was worth it.
Crossing the finish line always is.
“Today was worth all 14 weeks of my training. I did it for me, so I can continue to be good to others. Serenity, courage and wisdom can be shared. Thanks to everyone who helped me on this journey.
-Tortoise.”
I found him on the course, told him the 13th mile was mine and I ran it with him. My three children cheered him up the final hill and then joined in for the final mile as well. Getting him to that finish line…together. It was a special moment.
Once again, he battled and won. He set a goal, stayed committed and conquered. He does this every damn day. I’m pretty sure he may need a /red/ flower too.
xo.
Tori
The story of Fellow Flowers began when thirteen women that I knew committed to run a half marathon with me for my birthday. These dear friends crossed a finish line that day wearing orange gerber daises in their hair, but there was someone else who is quite special to me that did the same. My Dad. This part of the story has gone untold. I share it in honor of his birthday.
Shortly after he learned about the e-mail invitation I had sent and hearing that thirteen women had decided to do this race with me, I received a text message that I’ll never forget.
It read, “I bought new shoes, new running tights, and a dri-fit mock turtleneck. I have printed off my training program. I want to run the first three miles of the training with you and the last thirteen on your birthday weekend at the Cellcom. It’s not about the drinking, it’s about the thinking.” He called us the Tortoise and the Hare.
My Dad has often said that his real birthday is the day he sought sobriety and entered in-patient rehab, which he did in late 2006. While I was on the third floor giving birth to his third grandson, unbeknown to me, my father was staying in the same building seeking treatment for his addiction. It was the hardest and best decision of his life as he has walked away from it and never looked back, beating all statistics of relapse and has been sober for more than 6.5 years.
Watching him cross that finish line is something that I never thought I would witness and I couldn’t have been more proud of his effort. This race was not about me. It was about him and his journey.
