Stuffed Peppers Vegetarian Style

Usually, I stuff Italian green peppers with whatever is left over in the fridge.... not very Martha-esque, I know. I've often used rice, couscous, or ground beef as the primary base, then added on to that. Last night, I tried a different approach, using only veggies. I used my Pampered Chef chopper to quickly chop the veggies, and completely filled the whole peppers instead of slicing the peppers in half. They were delicious, and healthy. Let me know what you think.

Veggie and Feta Stuffed Peppers

Ingredients:

2 Tbsp. olive oil

4 long, thin Italian green peppers

5 thin asparagus spears, chopped fine

1 medium carrot, chopped fine

1 large portabello mushroom cap, chopped fine

1/2 yellow onion, chopped fine

1 clove garlic, minced

6 large grape tomatoes, chopped fine

1/3 cup white wine

1/2 cup fresh plain breadcrumbs

1/2 cup Feta cheese (add a bit more or less, depending on how much you like Feta)

Preheat Oven to 425 degrees.

Heat oil in medium saute pan, then add carrots and onions. Cook for about 5 min., stirring occasionally, until partly softened. Stir in asparagus, garlic, and mushroom. Cook 2 more min., then add white wine to deglaze the pan. Cook 2 min., then remove from heat. Add chopped tomatoes, then stir in breadcrumbs and Feta cheese. Spoon mixture into whole peppers -- insides and top stem removed -- holding upright and banging a bit to get mixture down to the bottom. Fill peppers completely. Place in greased baking pan. Bake for approx. 20 minutes, or until charred on the outside. Don't worry if filling spills out a little. Serve immediately.

13,458th Overall

Woo Hoo! Not only did I actually finish the entire Marine Corps Marathon course, but I managed to accomplish my personal goal of finishing under 5 hours. My stats were 13,458th overall -- out of 20,890 finishers -- and I was 453 out of 875 in my female 45-49 age group. I also got an age grade of 51.4% (kind of like SAT scores for runners, I think). All of which I can live with. Especially because I can walk today ... almost without pain.

So, here are the gory -- somewhat boring -- details.

We all arrived in DC happy and prepared for we were not sure what. My law school friend, Lauren -- now officially Auntie Lauren -- travelled with us for the weekend, helping to keep the weekend lighthearted and in perspective (that's her martini glass in the photo). We stayed at the Ritz Carlton Pentagon City, which was perfect for the race; not surprisingly, the hotel was entirely booked with runners for the weekend. Friday night we met my niece, Bridget, and her roommate, Grace, for dinner at an Asian restaurant on Pentagon Row. Easy, fun, with the added bonus of surprisingly good curry.

We then spent a rainy Saturday on the move. First, Will traveled with me to the DC Convention Center to pick up my number and race package. The MCM Expo turned out to be like a Disneyworld adventure for runners. Lots of cues, exhibitors, and running paraphernalia hawkers all jammed into a huge hangar-like auditorium. We went early to avoid the rush, and rewarded ourselves with lots of Official MCM goodies.

We then made our way over to the White House for a tour. Unlike years ago when we took the boys as toddlers, these tours are now self-guided which is good and bad. Good because you can go at your own pace and linger by all the photos, artwork and furniture; bad because you don't learn much more that what's in the little brochure you receive while waiting in line. The most memorable part of the tour was the heavily armed guards outside the White House. In fact, I saw more guns this weekend than I have seen in my entire lifetime. Not sure what that means, but it can't be good....

Left the White House, had lunch at Bullfeathers on Capitol Hill (yummy burgers), then received a private tour of the Capitol courtesy of Bridget, who is an intern this semester for Congressman Mike Pence. This tour was a lot more fun, and interesting, mostly thanks to Bridget's knowledge and sense of humor.

After that, it was back to the hotel to quickly change out of wet clothes and meet up for pasta dinner with, in no particular order: my brother's wife, Jen, and her three children; my niece Andrea, a freshman at Georgetown U.; our friend Jordan, a senior at GWU; and Jen's cousin, Amy, and her daughter, Mackenzie. Also along for the Entire Ride were my law school friends, Lauren and Mary Kate, who were both AWESOME to be with the entire weekend. Despite my best intentions, by the time we got back to the hotel, packed and prepared for the next day, it was 10:30 and I fell into bed.

Not that I got a good night's sleep. I'm pretty sure that's impossible when you are traveling to a Marathon. I woke up almost hourly, before finally giving up on sleep at 5:00 a.m. I finally got up at 5:45, dressed, grabbed breakfast-to-go downstairs with dozens of other runners, then headed out to the Metro to meet Jen and her friend, Bill. It was very cold, and we shivered together while waiting over an hour for the Start. By the time we got into the starting corrals -- yes, like cattle -- I had to go to the bathroom and I was exhausted (no cofffeeeee).

Which you could tell, because it took me almost 1.5 hours to go a little over 6 miles. I was Totally Dragging. Lauren and MK picked me up, though, as they hit the bullseye and were at mile 7 with bananas, Gatorades, and hugs. With my Ipod securely attached, I started feeling better and made it past all the memorials and monuments with little if any problems. Out of nowhere, at some mile, I'm don't remember which one, Bill and Julia appeared, yelling loudly to catch my attention. I'm not sure if I've ever been so happy to see them! Once I got over to them, though, Bill promptly said, "Hi. Don't Stop. Your pace is 5.01, you've got to pick it up!"

Wow. That's all I could say. Wow. Thanks, honey.

Soon after, I found myself craving salt -- though it was a cool day, the sun was beating down and I had neglected to wear a hat or visor, so my face and arms were becoming salty with sweat. Then, as if from nowhere, an unofficial bystander magically appeared on the side of the course, not with margharitas or beer (yes, there were both of those being handed out unofficially) but with tortilla chips and mini pretzels. I grabbed a handful of pretzels, said "thank-you" no less than 10 times, and literally sailed on wings to the bridge.

Somehow, I managed to Beat The Bridge. In fact, I made it to the 20-mile Bridge in 4 hours, and promptly got very emotional. I had been so worried about not making it, about having to take the bus to the finish, that getting to The Bridge seemed like my own victory. Looking back, I guess it was. And, a good thing I took a minute to enjoy it, because ... that was the longest f-in bridge I have ever been on In My Life. It was a least a mile long, seemed like it would never end, no shade, no spectators, lots of walkers, a long swath of concrete bathing in the DC sun. Thankfully, the 21-mile marker was visible on the other side.

The last 5.2 miles were truly grueling. At mile 24, a lightbulb went off and I realized perhaps I should put some water Over my head instead of just drinking it. That small act managed to put a little life in my step, and actually helped propel me up the hill at the end (past the 20- something on a stretcher only 500 yards from the finish line) to finish just behind a mother-son combo waving their arms in victory. Nice.

I was still standing. Still smiling. Trying not to cry, to not break down. Searching frantically for my family, for any familiar face in the crowd. 26 miles in 5 hours is a long way to go by yourself, even if your Playlist is a familiar friend, and even when you know family and friends are not that far away. I pulled the MCM metallic cape in close around me -- I was actually cold when I took it off -- gratefully received my Finisher's Medal from the marines at the finish line, and then finally met up with Jen, Bill and the kids at the "S" Family Link-up. It seemed like hours later we were back at the hotel, showered, and taking victory pictures like the one above.

And now for the $64,000 questions: First, Would I do another one? Maybe. I'm not planning on doing one, but I won't write off the possibility. I won't do another marathon alone, though. Second, How Do I Feel Today? Answer: Great. Proud. Happy. I set a difficult goal for myself, and accomplished it. Believe it or not, completing a marathon was not on my bucket list (I don't even have one). I only signed up for the MCM because Jen asked me to do it with her; she needed something to work towards, to train for while Rob is on deployment. I always knew I could back out if I had to. And, I almost had to, when I hurt my hip. At that point I wasn't sure I could even run. Taking two weeks off during crucial training weeks was a big risk, though I had no choice; if I didn't take the time to heal, I couldn't run.

Above all, I feel Lucky. So much of my marathon journey had a lot to do with Luck. The hotel, the weather, the healed hip, the right sneakers (no blisters at all!) -- each one of those could have gone badly, but didn't. Lucky to have such a supportive family, lucky to even be able to do such a relatively small thing to show my brother how I feel about what he does on a daily basis for me and for our country. Lucky to not be running in memory of someone, like so many of the runners were. Lucky to have the opportunity to show my children that it's possible to set a difficult goal and achieve it. Lucky to have my father with me, if only in spirit. Just plain lucky.

4:55.52

More details and pics to follow! C.

The Belly Feeling -- 4 Days And Counting

Every other week or so my daughter tells me about her "belly feeling," which she gets as she turns the corner into the swimming pool parking lot, for example, or when she is preparing for some nerve-inducing situation which she knows she has to and will survive, but which she finds stressful and scary. I tell her we all get that feeling every now and then, and that I can still remember feeling that way every single time I went into the Wakefield YMCA lobby and smelled the chlorine wafting up from the pool area ... and I wasn't even on the swim team.

Yesterday I woke up with the belly feeling that I'm afraid just isn't going away any time soon. I'm trying to prevent it from turning into a full-blown panic, though, as I can see Panic literally looming just over the edge of my hold on control. It's not just the fact that the Marine Corps Marathon is in four short days. There's a lot of other things cooking these days. Lots of deadlines, lots of appointments, lots of telephone calls, and lots of different pots in the fire, for all of us. Add the swine flu updates to the mix (11 pediatric deaths last week alone, most of them adolescents) and the nerve meter ratchets up even further. I anticipated October, and much of the fall, being this way, but no matter how well I planned for it, it's inevitable that sometimes life IS nerve-inducing. I wish I were one of Those People who seem to Go With The Flow. But, I'm not.

SO, What to Do, What to Do. The only solution I've found is preparation (I tried avoidance, and it's just not going to work in this situation -- though I did get several birthday cards mailed and all my outstanding thank-you's mailed as well!). I spent two hours yesterday viewing the MCM website and downloading what I considered essential information. For example, before yesterday, I didn't even know what time the race actually started -- after researching this, the information I found is still conflicting with one part of the site indicating 8:00 a.m., and another part indicating 8:15 a.m. So, you can see, the belly feeling Was somewhat justified. I spent time checking out exactly where the Start and Finish are, to determine if our hotel is as close as I hoped; yes, it is, though it's still one metro stop away from the Start. I then called the hotel to confirm (for the 3d time, because I just can't rely 100% on email confirmations ...) that one of our rooms had two double beds; this time, to my surprise, they told me "No." I just about went ballistic, until the Front Desk Manager quickly recanted -- after the pitch of my voice rose higher than the pitch of my kitchen fire alarm -- which went off several times yesterday after I burnt the rice for the dog food. She quickly assured me that double beds would be waiting. I downloaded airplane confirmations, began planning my outfit for that day, and generally did all I could to prepare for the weekend.

Despite all my preparation, I still woke up with the belly feeling this morning. Sucks. I know I'll get through the race, and I know I won't completely embarrass myself. So, what's the problem? I think it's just my nature to get nervous. I've always been a planner, and with the planning comes the nerves. As long as my nerves don't cause me to collapse in a puddle somewhere or cause my legs to seize up, I should be fine. Now, as I sit here writing this piece, my belly is getting tighter and tighter (and not in a good way, as in, say, 6-pack abs); clearly, writing about this isn't quelling my nerves. So, right now, I'm going running, just to prove to myself that I can still put one foot in front of the other in a forward direction and not fall apart. Check back in with me on Tuesday, and I'll fill you in on the hopefully-not-too-gory details.

Peace At Last

Now THAT's What I'm Talking About!

How awesome to awaken to GOOD news, INSPIRING news, and HUMBLING news. President Obama's Nobel Prize for Peace simply ... leaves me ... somewhat speechless!

Okay, well not Totally speechless. For the first time in a very long time, the news from Norway (different from all other Nobels, which are designated from Sweden) leaves me feeling PROUD, and HOPEFUL about world relations and the United States' place in the world. As I've often stated in this blog, if I am feeling or thinking a certain way, I'm pretty sure thousands of other people out there are feeling or thinking similarly. This is one of those times.

To be completely Honest, I was NOT Totally Dismayed by the news that the Summer Olympics would not be taking place in Chicago. I don't LOVE Chicago the way many people seem to Love it. Plus, Oprah's acting out on the world stage kind of Completely Bugged Me. I tune in every now and then, but someone should tell her handlers that she is getting a Wee Bit Overexposed. If this news makes ME feel good, though, can you IMAGINE what it's doing for the people of Chicago who formed Barack Obama's first crucial base for support? This news will give them the sort of boost that will enable to recover quickly from the perceived Loss and move on to considerations of lasting international Victory. There are bigger Gold Medals out there than the one they hand out to Olympians.

I also love that this news was a COMPLETE SURPRISE to everyone. You have to hand it to those Swedes. No dummies them to come out STRONG, and as publicly as possible to support this American man whom the international community views as crucial to a peace-filled global world going forward.

VERY COOL.

Leaves me, truly, speechless.

Sign of the Apocalypse? You Be The Judge

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Finger Lickin' Good -- Sticky Ribs

In case there are any carnivores out there reading, and in homage to the impending doom facing Gourmet magazine, I decided to include the following picture of my "Sticky Ribs." The recipe from Gourmet magazine actually calls them Sticky Balsamic Ribs but I've taken a little liberty with that. Rather than follow the entire recipe to the exact degree, I actually have made this recipe several times with my own tweeks in Five Easy Steps. First, I use a pre-made rub, called Bone Suckin' Rub (yes, you read correctly, Bone Suckin'). I rub it all over the ribs, stack them on each other, wrap them tightly in 2 layers of cellophane, then marinate them in the fridge overnight. The next day, I follow Gourmet's directions in roasting the ribs. However, before I put them in the 425- degree oven, I coat them with Bone Suckin' Sauce (available in markets everywhere). Third, I cover the coated ribs with tin foil -- add the 1/2 cup water the recipe recommends -- and bake away, for almost two hours. Fourth, when the ribs come out, almost completely done, I brush them again with Bone Suckin' Sauce and place them on the grill for about 5 minutes for each side, on medium heat. Caveat: We only grill with GAS. Until I lit charcoals with Maria last summer, I was convinced that no one ever really used charcoal anymore ... but I was wrong, as usual! Once they're done, serving them sliced up makes them a little easier for the family to deal with. So, Fifth, slice them up and you're good to go. Tonight I served them with oven-baked fries (make sure to soak cut up russet potatoes in COLD water, then drain and dry them before coating with olive oil and baking at 425 degrees for about 45 minutes or until done). Green salad on the side and it's almost a healthy meal! Good Luck Suckin' Away! Click on the Title above and it will take you directly to the recipe.

Fine, Thank You, How Are You?

This year, October is a big month for me. Tons to get done, hold on to, celebrate, and challenge me. We have, in no particular order: Birthdays Galore, Deadlines for Princeton Reunion Community Service Project, Marine Corps Marathon, and those are just the activities I'm involved with. There are also, spread out among several children and husband, such activities as SAT's, College Applications/Essays, Swim Meets, 1/2 Marathons, cross-country visits, Adopt A Squadron coordination, WORK, school work, and Halloween -- which seems to go On and On and On and On.

Concomitant with all of that, there is the general desire to show the world that I/We are all pretty happy and carefree, despite, again in no particular order: the REAL state of the economy and rising unemployment; clients who think lawyers make tons of money so don't need to be paid right away, or ever; the war in Afghanistan; the crazy people -- and I mean CRAZY -- in Somalia and Djibouti; and doubts concerning Obama's actual ability to make things right, among other issues.

As you get older, you begin to realize that beneath the facade we present to the world, there is almost always a back story. Sometimes the story isn't hard to discern, as, for example, the story of the whiz-marathon runner who actually deals daily with Type 1 diabetes. Other stories are somewhat more undecipherable, such as the beautiful, successful family with currently unintentionally unemployed breadwinners. In both cases, and many more like them, even those closest to those individuals do not always have keen insight into the daily challenges and decisions going on in their households. Put simply, as my brother Rob once did, "Catherine, you don't know everything that happens."

Well, Rob, pardon my French, but DUUHH. (Is that a word yet? It should be, because "no kidding" just doesn't always work as well as a replacement.)

October is a great month to talk about this. After all, it's the Month of Masquerade, and we are all dragged into that masquerade both literally and figuratively. Literally, we dress our kids up and send them out the door costumed as their favorite other-selves. On a side note, it's interesting that as children age, their approach to Halloween completely changes. The transformation is pretty remarkable in that it happens so quickly and so completely. Julia went from being a unicorn to a dead cheerleader -- still trying to talk her down off of that one -- in a few short years. And, it's not all about the candy now, but will be again in a couple of years, just before it's time for her to give up trick-or-treating all together.

Figuratively, we adults learn the tricks of masquerade early on, when as young children, we are taught by appropriate-thinking parents that we must always respond politely with, "Fine, Thank You, How Are You?" or some other response that gives no true indication of how we Really are. The subterfuge, and our ability to accomplish it, gets easier and more prevalent as we get older. We lie to our children in order to protect them from such serious matters as illness or economic troubles, for example, or we continue in routine patterns with friends and associates so as not to let others know something is amiss either at home or at work. All of this subterfuge, though, can cause incredible stress.

Part of me thinks that this is one reason why Facebook and Twitter are so popular: people want others to know them. Facebookers are actually individuals reaching out to the world on a uniquely internet level. It is truly a Catch-22; you need to be in front of a computer screen to participate, i.e., not out in the actual in-person social world, but you are doing everything you can to be part of a world where there is constant social interaction. Facebook profiles are set up so that others can pat you on the back for daily glories and challenges, so that "Friends" can be each others' on-screen cheerleaders and send happy birthday wishes. Inevitably, your Friends can answer your questions, provide movie/book reviews, or simply provide commentary on your daily quandaries. You can also type endlessly concerning the troubles in your life, thereby not only soliciting insight and on-screen therapy but also reducing, in a small way, the stress itself.

Of course we adults may continue to poo-poo Facebook, Twitter, and all the associated sites that I'm sure are out there but of which I am as yet blissfully unaware. What is a bit unclear is whether Facebook has made actual inroads on the subterfuge most of us are so adept at. My gut tells me that yes it has, if only because people that tell the truth on Facebook do not always have the opportunity to share their truths with those outside their small circle of friends and family, as Facebook gives them the opportunity to tell their stories to a larger audience than would even exist without the platform. Some of what people share Is kind of incredible; for example, even if you are only changing your profile from "in a relationship" to "single," you are actually letting a whole swath of people know that you are no longer attached to your significant other. Another interesting phenomena is the age aspect inherent in Facebook. Because Facebook is so much a part of teenagers' lives, its effects are obviously somewhat generational. It will be very interesting going forward to see how these teen Facebookers interact as adults.

Needless to say, while I'm not a huge fan of masquerades, I'm comfortable with the subterfuge that the majority of us adults maintain in order to peacefully proceed. That is, as long as we're all in it together, AND we all recognize the fact that at any given time, Everyone has her own back story.

P.S. As a parting shout out to my own significant other, I thought I'd include below some lyrics of which he is so fond. They fit in with this month's theme of masquerade, and are from Brad Paisley's song "Online." Enjoy.

I work down at the Pizza Pit
And I drive an old Hyundai
I still live with my mom and dad
I'm 5 foot 3 and overweight
I'm a scifi fanatic
A mild asthmatic
And I've never been to second base
But there's whole ‘nother me
That you need to see
Go checkout MySpace

'Cause online I'm out in Hollywood
I'm 6 foot 5 and I look damn good
I drive a Maserati
I'm a black-belt in karate
And I love a good glass of wine
It turns girls on that I’m mysterious
I tell them I don't want nothing serious
'Cause even on a slow day
I could have a three way
Chat with two women at one time
I’m so much cooler online
So much cooler online

When I get home I kiss my mom
And she fixes me a snack
And I head down to my basement bedroom
And fire up my mac
In real life the only time I’ve ever even been to L.A
Is when I got the chance with the marching band
To play tuba in the Rose Parade

Online I live in Malibu
I pose for Calvin Klein, I've been in GQ
I'm single and I'm rich
And I've got a set of six pack abs that would blow your mind
It turns girls on that I’m mysterious
I tell them I don't want nothing serious
'Cause even on a slow day
I could have a three way
Chat with two women at one time
I’m so much cooler online
Yeah, I'm cooler online

When you got my kind of stats
It’s hard to get a date
Let alone a real girlfriend
But I grow another foot and I lose a bunch of weight
Every time I login

Online I’m out in Hollywood
I’m 6 foot 5 and I look damn good
Even on a slow day
I could have a three way
Chat with two women at one time
I’m so much cooler online
Yeah, I’m cooler online
I’m so much cooler online
Yeah, I’m cooler online.