Well I headed off to the farmer’s market this morning for some more of that nostalgia, and to try something new. With only one large mess of beans in the freezer, I cannot face winter. I have never bought any green beans that were not White Half Runners, because that’s what my honey’s Maw always bought 🙂 They are wonderful cooked country style with new potatoes, a bit of ham and some chicken boillon, but my aunt inspired me to try something new. This aunt is one of those people who can whip up a masterpiece with about any handful of ingredients, probably blindfolded, and has been dubbed by my sia (sister) and I as “The cook of cooks in the family” (we all do pretty well- but she stands a notch above for her creativy and ability without a recipe). She admits to having stolen this particular idea from a restaurant, but it is very consistent with her style and flair. So you get some Tenderettes (certain type of green bean) and just pinch off the points, wash and gather in a bunch of 6-8 in your hand. Take a strip of bacon and wrap the bunch, spiral, from one end of the bunch to the other, stretching the bacon snuggly. Then you place them in a shallow dish and microwave until the bacon is done, and slightly crispy- the beans will be perfect by then. She says you may have to pour off some drippings half-way through – or if you have a micro-dish that allows for drainage, you’re good to go. And you thought green bean casserole was the latest thing to do with green beans (which I don’t like, by the way). I haven’t tried it yet, but I put some pre-wrapped bunches in the freezer for faster use later! Mmmm!
I also got some Blue Lake green beans, which she finds more tender and flavorful than the WHR – and just packed them up traditionally.
Just in case you were waiting for some sort of lesson on pride through green beans, I’ll pop that bubble right now 🙂 The pride comes in about what I did before the farmer’s market, which has me feeling very good today. I woke to the sound of the treadmill about 6:40am, because my honey was working out in the garage, which is below our bedroom. I had asked him to wake me early, since he is always up and I don’t usually wake early without prompting (he says a cannon, but this is my blog). Anyway, at first I was a little irritated that he didn’t wake me like I asked. He does this a lot. I’m not sure if he is trying to pamper me, or if it is really just that much of a pain to wake me, but I got over it quickly when I credited him for probably realizing that the noise of the treadmill would do the job effectively. I’m nice like that. I got dressed in my best clearance-rack-mismatched, sweat-wicking, built-in bra running top and shorts, cushy, arch-supportive socks and running shoes, and pulled back my hair. At first glance in the mirror I noted that I looked serious about this, and told myself, “You are a runner. You can do this. It matters not that you didn’t get all your workouts in last week.” (no – not out loud!), trying desperately not to make eye contact for fear that the doubt in my soul would be evident in my eyes.
I waved to my honey on the treadmill and began the 5 minute warm-up walk. I had to run 1.5 miles today, and I used all the mental tricks I knew to wash the doubt away in the half mile walk. I started to run. The first half mile was good, and pretty easy. The second half mile was just underway when my honey ran up to join me (his cool down – don’t laugh!). I was pleased because I was afraid I may need the encouragement, and knew that I wanted to impress him, which would help me push myself, and because I hadn’t asked him to do this. As the third half mile began, he smiled at me and said, “Wow, honey. You getting up and running at 7am – I never, and I mean never dreamed that you would do that. You are doing great honey – I’m impressed.” I smiled and ran on. Not long after this, my stomach began to tighten uncomfortably, and I realized that I hadn’t eaten a thing. Not a huge deal, really, for a 1.5 mile run, but it was more evidence that I was nervous about this. I could almost see the marker when I was overwhelmed with something and stopped. I stood for about 10 seconds in disbelief, not knowing why I stopped, and started again. I finished, without dropping dead and I’m still on high about it at 3 in the afternoon. I won’t discount myself for stopping, but I still don’t understand why I did. I wasn’t feeling pain, and I was regulating my breathing, so I wasn’t out of breath. I just stopped. A close friend once told me that I sabatoge my own success because I fear it. Well, I don’t know, but it comes to mind. I did finish, though. And I am very proud of myself for it. I guess I learned something about myself, too. And next time, I’ll be more aware of that mental aspect of the sport, and I’ll win that, too.