Nomnomnom! Cannellini & Sausage Rigatoni

Here’s another easy, delicious meal I love. This is a perfect busy-weeknight-after-work meal. It takes less than half an hour from start to finish. It’s tasty. It’s healthy. Did I mention it’s nomnomnom?

Next time you’re tempted to pull out a Hamburger Helper, try this instead. (I kid. Especially if it’s Cheeseburger Macaroni Hamburger Helper. Mmm…)

Cannellini & Sausage Rigatoni

2 cups rigatoni pasta
1/2 pound Italian sausage (I use mild Italian sausage. You can use hot/mild/pork/turkey – whatever you like.)
1 15 ounce can cannellini beans
1 15 ounce can petite diced tomatoes
1 tablespoon dried oregano
2 teaspoons dried Italian seasoning
1/3 cup fresh-grated Parmesan

Make the rigatoni according to the package directions. While it’s cooking, brown the sausage in a large saucepan. Drain. Add the beans, tomatoes, oregano and Italian seasoning. When the pasta is done cooking, drain and add to the pan. Sprinkle with Parmesan. Heat until warmed through and cheese is melted.

It’s every bit as delicious as it looks.

Note: If you’re still using the Kraft Parmesan that’s on every pizza place table in the nation, I suggest giving fresh Parmesan a try. I find it in the dairy section, next to all the other cheeses. (But maybe that’s because I’m from Wisconsin, and we stock a lot of cheeses.) The taste is amazing.

Extra-delicious when served with a salad and crusty garlic bread. Again, it’s easy enough to throw a salad together and put some garlic bread in the oven while the pasta is cooking.

Nomnomnom!

Life Lesson #593

Always buy toilet paper in bulk. 

It’s cheaper that way, and it will never go unused. 

 

A Run Through Peninsula State Park

When a run is equal parts freedom and nature, with a dash of bagpipes and my own cheering section built in, with perfect weather added on top, how could it be anything but favorite?

This past Saturday was the 2013 Door County Half Marathon, which is run entirely within Peninsula State Park. I love this park, which is on the shore of Green Bay and Lake Michigan. The trails and views and cliffs and shores are breathtaking. Everyone who enjoys running races though big cities can have their crowds and traffic and buildings and dirty air. I will take the woods every time.

After setting a PR in Oshkosh two weeks ago, I decided I’d run this race for fun. No time goal. No pressure. I wanted to feel good and have some gas left in the tank at the end, to enjoy Door County while we were there.

I woke up to sunshine and crisp spring air. The race didn’t start until 10, so I had plenty of time to get ready. I had coffee, ate bacon and eggs, drank water, got dressed, joked around with the family. I took off to catch the shuttle about an hour and a half before the race. I felt great. Relaxed. Energized.

I had a good hour at the park to prep. Seeing the woods and the beaches had me pumped. I was a little cold, but knew I’d warm up eventually. I stretched, listened to some punk rock, and chatted with other racers. What I’d heard about this race: the hills were tough, but it was so beautiful it didn’t matter. I’m thinking: Peninsula got nothin’ on San Francisco.

When it was time to line up, I found the 2:15 pace group. Then I heard the sweet, sweet sound of bagpipes. Yes. Bagpipes. I knew at that moment this was going to be epic.

The horn went off and we walked to the start. I hit the mat and eased into it. We started slow, which was perfect. The first three miles were heading south along the shore. I’m certain I was grinning ear-to-ear the entire time.

The entire course was so beautiful. Evergreens mixed with naked birches. The breaks in the trees where I could see over the bay. The woods, where depressions were still flooded, with green grass peeking up. It was spectacular. I love love love running in the woods.

Random moment: a group of three men ran past us. One of them was wearing a pair of women’s flat sandals instead of shoes. Not VFFs or Merrells. Women’s sandals. Huh.

Around mile 4, my watch started beeping. Low battery. What the hell? I was certain I’d charged it the day before. No, it was dead. It made the decision to not watch my time and pace, and let myself run comfortably, that much easier.

We started heading into the big incline. I was getting warm. I stopped to peel off my arm warmers. I easily caught back up to the pace group. We came up to the next water station and they slowed down to get water and walk. I kept going. I never looked back.

That mile-long incline was…challenging, but not tough. It was just enough to keep me guessing, and pushing. I never hurt. It was one foot in front of the other, and lean into it. Hitting the top was a great feeling.

I knew there was a cheering section at mile 6, and I could hear cowbell and yelling. I turned the corner and realized it was a downhill, which was great. Even better, I heard my sisters-in-law. I knew the family was coming to the park to cheer me on but I didn’t expect to see them that early. Everyone was there, screaming and clapping. Best motivation ever.

The next 4 or 5 miles were rolling hills and curving roads, sun-dappled stands of birch, roadways with trees arching over. With the sun on my face and wind rushing past me, I thought: this is why I run. I never feel more alive than when I am running, or when I am in the woods, and putting the two together makes me feel invincible. Add in my punk rock playlist, and I was on top of the world.

Having the bagpiper around mile 7: even more awesome.

Mile 10 started the descent. I giggled as I went faster and faster. I had to pull back a little – I wanted to have a little gas in the tank for the last 2 flat miles. And I did. I hit the mile 11 marker and surged. I felt so…strong. Alive. Hungry. I was starving, actually. It was past lunch time.

I love getting close to the chute. I love hearing the music and cheering and cowbell. I looked for the family, and there they were on my right, cheering away. My sister-in-law got the most fantastic picture of me running ever. I look so happy and strong.

I practically danced my way across the finish line, arms pumping. And this time, I got my medal.

I completely missed what the time was on the clock. I just knew that the 2:15 group hadn’t passed me. My official time ended up being 2:11:53. Hot damn.

I got water and Gatorade and the best M&M cookie of all time, and headed back to the shuttles. Lunch was a glorious picnic of brats and potato salad and beer, soaking in the sun.

And then, dinner.

The family is already talking about going back next year. My sister-in-law and her soon-to-be-husband want to do the half, and my mother-in-law and other sister-in-law want to run the 5K. This makes my heart happy.

For now, I’m ready to take it easy for a couple of weeks before…marathon training begins.

Race Recap: Oshkosh Half Marathon 2013

Two years ago, I ran the Oshkosh Half as my first half marathon. I was bib 84. I woke up to 35° and pouring rain, and had one of the most miserable runs of my life. But I did it.

Today, I ran the Oshkosh Half as my fourth half marathon. I was bib 85. I woke up to 32° and the threat of rain. I hoped to not have a miserable run.

Goal: run this half in under 2:10. (Previous PR: 2:16:57.) I’ve been training – hard. That’s an understatement. Intervals. Spin classes. Yoga classes. Long runs which I forced myself to maintain sub-10:00/mile paces on.  Oshkosh is easy. It’s a flat town. I know all the roads. I run most of the race route on a regular basis. The biggest variable: weather. When the wind picks up, it’s hard to run. When it’s cold, it’s hard to run. When the trails along the river are two inches of mud, it’s hard to run.

Last night was a perfect pre-race night. I made a huge batch of spaghetti sauce (fresh tomatoes!), meatballs, and garlic bread topped with mozzarella and broiled. It was so good. After dinner, I got comfy on the couch and watched The Goonies – it’s tradition!

Today I was up at 5:30 am. I had everything laid out downstairs, from my clothes to my oatmeal. I had a bottle of water, my oatmeal, and a cup of coffee. I remembered, five minutes before walking out the door, to pin my bib on my shirt. I debated grabbing my light running jacket and decided against it. Was that a mistake? I still haven’t decided.

I got downtown and parked 35 minutes before the race start. It was cold. I was parked half a block from the start. Did I sit in my car with the heat and seat warmer on for 20 minutes? Yes, I did, and it was wonderful. When I walked to the start, I found the 2:10 pace group and lined up with them. I figured I could pace myself with them for the first mile or so and see how it went. The pre-race festivities were a little different than normal. Several runners who had been at the Boston Marathon this week gave speeches, and then we all sang the national anthem together. (If you can call what I did “singing”. That might be a stretch.) Starting a race is already emotional; that nearly had me in tears.

The horn went off, and the 2,700 runners started forward. As I was trying to find a spot in the crowd, I spotted my old friend Jeremy just ahead of me. I ran up to him and said hi. He asked how fast I was planning to run. I said 2:05 to 2:10. He said he was doing the same and he’d run with me. And that was that.

Jeremy and I were in the Jaycees together for years. We’ve run together before. We talked about work, family, houses, Jaycees, airplanes, running, and a hundred other things. Before I knew it, 5 miles were gone. Gone! I hardly remember the scenery.

At that point we were running down the trail by the river. I was expecting it to be a muddy mess like it was two years ago, but it was surprisingly dry. That boosted my confidence. We were right on pace, right where I wanted to be. As we saw the first bridge come into sight, we passed the pace group and took off.

Once we hit the bridge, running south, we hit The Wind. It was tough. And cold. We had a 2-mile loop to the west, but after that it was a couple more miles straight into the wind. We pushed on. Hard. I was not going to let a little wind slow the pace. We ran into South Park and I picked it up a bit – the winding path made it easier.

Then we hit 10 miles and I hit a Wall. A WALL! I could barely put one foot in front of the other. Having Jeremy’s family show up on the route for the fifth time, while I had no one, was a bit tough. But there was only a 5K left. Jeremy pushed me. He kept telling me not to drop the pace. A couple good songs came on my playlist. I looked at my watch and realized I still had it in me to make my goal.

I think the second best moment of this race was when I turned the corner of 18th to go east. The wind died down, there were a lot more spectators, and I could see the lake ahead of me. It was a cold, crisp morning where I could see all the way across the lake, and imagine High Cliff. I pushed on.

Mile 11. Jeremy ran ahead. I kept my pace.

Mile 12 marker. I was down to a 10:05. I was hurting. I told myself, “It can hurt tomorrow”, and I pushed on.

The Main St. bridge was in sight. Yes, a bridge with less than half a mile to go. Up and away. Push into it. It barely hurts at this point. I go down and turn right, along the river and to the chute. People were screaming. There was a woman dressed as a fairy godmother yelling…wait, did I just see a woman dressed as the fairy godmother, or did I run too hard and start hallucinating? I see the finish strip. I see the clock. I push it push it push.

The husband said I looked pissed off as I was finishing. I call this face “FOCUS”.

I cross. I stop my watch. I am at 2:09:10. I did it. I did it. I did it.

I step forward to get my medal and I was told they were gone. GONE. They RAN OUT OF MEDALS. I was not happy. I love getting a picture with my medal, right after the race, with That Face. The one that says, “I did it.” I won’t get that photo, even with this PR. Not fair.

To finish the morning, we had lunch at Red Robin. Hello, burger, you look delicious.

And now, a week of rest, then a run in Fargo with friends, then the Door County Half Marathon. I love running season.

 

Oshkosh Half: Week 11

Six days to race day. Bring it on.

I worked my ass off last week.

Monday I did my strength training and ran a couple miles. Not inspiring, but done. Tuesday, I ran 3 to make up for a weekend of no running. Wednesday I went to spin. It was not the same instructor as the previous week, Chad. I did not like the woman, but I told myself to shut up and enjoy the ride. I got a lot out of it, at least, even if I wanted to pull out her vocal cords. Thursday was my last day of intervals before the race, and: treadmill. BOO. HISS. This crappy not-quite-winter weather needs to move one. But, 10 X 400 done. TEN. FOUR HUNDREDS. INTERVALS. DIDN’T DIE. Jes-of-six-months-ago is duly impressed. Friday I ran 3 miles. Saturday was yoga.

Wait, shouldn’t I be tapering, going into race week?

Sunday I only ran 8 miles. Jack Jack and I took 3.5. He is a terror when he sees a duck. I guess that’s what I get for having a bird dog. Then I dropped him off at home and met up with Alex. We ran the rest around the north side of Oshkosh. Seeing the 10-20 foot ice piles on the shore of the lake was neat. Running through 2 inches of ice-cold water in the park was not. But we did it, and I crushed that with a 9:30 pace.

It’s race week, now. This morning I ran 2.5, and realized I need a break after 8 straight days. I need to scale it back. My focus this week has to be on stretching, and eating right. So, I’m going to pull out The Stick after this and work on my hamstrings and calves a bit.

Boston. Oh, Boston. I don’t know why this happened. I feel for the runners who got hurt. I feel even more for the injured innocent spectators, those who are our constant support and encouragement – they did not deserve this. I don’t understand what makes someone want to physically injure other people – especially anonymously. But the running community is amazing. We will get through this.

Oshkosh Half 2013: Week 10

The race is days away. I can smell it. I can feel it.

Monday I did my strength training. OK, no, I didn’t. I halfheartedly attempted one set of each exercise and gave up. The dark, cold, damp basement was not working for me. I ran 3 miles with Jack Jack to make up for that, and it was great.

Wednesday I cranked out a 5 mile run before work. Awesome. It’s feeling like spring.

Thursday I was supposed to run 45 minutes, at tempo. That was not going to happen. I was so stressed about the upcoming weekend, trying to finish tasks, I didn’t want to run. I made myself go for 3 miles in the afternoon. Jack Jack and I ran fast. It was a good mental break. 3 miles is better than 0, always.

I tweeted that I had no desire or motivation to run 13 miles the next day. I didn’t want to. I was tired. I was stressed. I was sure the long run was going to end after 5 miles with me on the side of the road, puking or passed out. Thursday night, I had spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner. I went to bed at a reasonable time.

Friday morning arrived. Long Run Day. I woke up on time, had a cup of coffee, a bottle of water, and an energy bar. Oddly enough, I was feeling good. Relaxed. Energized. It wasn’t quite 40 degrees  but I put on capris and light long sleeve shirt and headed out with Jack Jack. He ran the first 3 miles with me, and we set a nice pace. I dropped him off at home, grabbed my water bottle, and set out for the other 10.

It was one of those runs where everything was in sync. It was one of my best runs physically, mentally, and technically. I ran out to the lake and back. I was running into the wind on the way out, which is fine; I had it at my back on the way home. I had a steady pace. Nothing hurt. I was hydrated. I wasn’t hungry at any point. It was just a good, solid run.

The last mile dragged a little. I haven’t run 13 miles since November. But I did it. I looked at my watch. 2:09-something. Shut the front door. My half PR is 2:16-something. You’re telling me I cut 7 minutes off in 5 months? I’ve been working my ass off. You bet I have.

Saturday was my conference. I feel like I walked 5 miles, but no run. Sunday, I was too exhausted to do anything. So I didn’t.

Two weeks left.

Oshkosh Half 2013: Week 9

SPRING. It’s almost arrived. Finally!

I made myself run outside all week. It was wet and messy, but I did it. And by Sunday, it was great.

Monday I did my strength training, then headed out on a 2-mile run. Every week before this I tried to run, then do strength. I was miserable those weeks; I enjoyed this week. Lesson learned.

Wednesday I went to spin class at the Y. People had asked, “Have you ever been to one of Chad’s classes?”, like it was both amazing and horrible, and I’d say no. Well, no more. Chad was the instructor, and I was dripping sweat and panting and now I know what Erin means when she says she loves spin because she doesn’t think of anything else. I couldn’t. It was fantastic.

Thursday was intervals. I used to hate intervals. Intervals are hard. Hard, hard, hard. But I went out and ran half a mile, then did 9 x 400′s, with a pace of 9:00-9:15, and resting was 9:45-10:00. The first five were great. The next two were hard. The last two, I was focused on not stopping and laying down on the sidewalk to die. I did not, and I felt awesome about an hour after.

Friday was an unexpected – and very welcome – rest day.

Saturday was yoga. It was an excellent class. The first low lunge on the right side was really uncomfortable at first. Then, out of nowhere, POP, go my hips and lower back. It all cracked and I was so surprised I fell over. Once that was out of the way, things were much easier. I want to know what the secret is to hamstrings that aren’t as tight as guitar strings every week. I suspect it’s something like, “Less running.”

Sunday was my long-ish run – it’s a step-down week – only eight miles. I needed something different, so Justin drove me south, down the lake, and dropped me off. It was fantastic. I wish it had been a little warmer, but I was in capris anyway. There were robins everywhere, which struck me as funny, because the day before I had been mad I hadn’t seen any yet this spring. There was also a field with fix sandhill cranes strutting around, calling. They are so loud up close it’s surprising. I ran the six miles home, picked up Jack, and ran two more. I came in at about 78 minutes – so I maintained my sub-10:00 pace. I’m happy with that.

This week is going to be hard. I have a user group meeting, a user group presentation, and I’ll be out of town this weekend for a conference. But…when it’s important, you make time. I’ll be doing my long run on Friday. And, coincidentally, napping before heading to Madison that day.