New Favorite Chili

"I don't want you to make chili any way other than this ever again," my husband said earnestly as he finished his second bowl of chili tonight.

It is not often that I find food my husband is so enthusiastic about. So when I do, it's sort of like seeing a fleeting shooting star--I'm not really sure if it happened at all, or if I just imagined it.

Anyway, here is the recipe. The resulting chili boasts a sweet and spicy flavor, and a hearty, protein-packed texture. It's sure to please even the pickiest of eaters (it already has!).

Follow the recipe below to enjoy this sweet and spicy, protein-packed chili.

What You'll Need
leftover shredded chicken breast prepared as instructed in Slow Cooker Chicken Tacos
1 lb. extra lean ground beef
3-5 tablespoons jarred minced garlic
2 tablespoons dried oregano
1 teaspoon chili powder
1 tablespoon basil
1 can dark red kidney beans, drained and rinsed
1 can garbanzo beans
1 can diced tomatoes
1 can corn
3 tablespoons sugar
3-5 cups tomato juice (less if you want thicker chili, more if you want thinner chili)

What You'll Do
1. Over medium heat, cook beef with garlic, oregano, chili powder, and basil. Cook, stirring, until beef is completely browned.
2. Combine kidney beans, garbanzo beans, tomatoes, tomato juice, and corn in slow cooker. Stir in beef, leftover chicken, and sugar.
3. Cook on low for eight hours.

Serving Suggestion
Serve with Krusteaz Honey Cornbread.

What Your Words Say About You: Choose Wisely

In the English classes I teach, one topic my students and I discuss is word choice. I try to communicate to them the importance of opting for strong, specific words when they write, as well as to teach them how to analyze an author's choice of words in literature they read. For example, in their own writing, I would caution them against using words such as "awesome," "great," or "thing," and replace them with more specific vocabulary. What, exactly, made an experience "awesome"? Was it refreshing? Invigorating? Humbling? Empowering? What, exactly, made the food "great"? Was it juicy? Was it crispy? Was it savory and buttery and tongue-burningly hot?

Analyzing our choice of words in a variety of platforms reveals that for the most part, human beings are pretty upbeat creatures. 

When we discuss word choice in the literature we read, we try to ascertain an author's tone based on the words he or she uses. For example, we recently read excerpts from Thoreau's Walden in one of my classes. In an excerpt from the section called "Spring," Thoreau uses "dark," "sluggish," and "storm" in conjunction with winter. In his description of spring, he uses "bright," "hopeful," and "translucent." I always ask the students which season they surmise Thoreau favors based solely on his choice of words. They always respond with "spring."

Then of course, we discuss word choice in terms of denotation and connotation. Referring to a dog as a mutt or a cur, for example, elicits a much different emotion than referring to a dog as a puppy or a pooch. The former options suggest much more negative associations than do the latter options.

And tonight, in the 15 February 2015 edition of the Richmond Times-Dispatch, I came across the concept of word choice in a light in which I had never thought about it. The article, "In billions of words, humans keep looking on the bright side," was originally published by Bloomberg News, and relates recent research that shows that people across the globe consistently use positive words over negative ones.

"The majority of communication--in books, on Twitter, even in newspapers--is positive," the article states. Even in China, the country whose communication was found to be the least cheerful, "the 'happiness distribution' was always positive." (Spain boasted the most upbeat communication.)

Basically, analyzing our choice of words in a variety of platforms reveals that for the most part, human beings are pretty upbeat creatures.

This got me thinking. Am I a pretty upbeat creature, and would my word choices reveal that positivity (or lack thereof)? Is my own everyday word choice mostly positive, or mostly negative? Analyzing our own use of positive versus negative words could help us discern whether we are generally acting in the best interest of those around us, buoying them up, or if we are dragging them down. It could help us discern whether we generally view things optimistically, or pessimistically. If I were to analyze the conversations I have throughout the day, or my Facebook status updates throughout the week, or my journal entry from any given day, would I learn my vocabulary communicates more positivity or more negativity?

Analyzing our own use of positive versus negative words could help us discern whether we generally view things optimistically, or pessimistically.

Going forward, just as I advise my students to deliberately choose strong, specific words in their writing and to carefully consider the words they use, I, too, will carefully consider the words I use, but in a different context. Instead of attempting to use merely specific words, I will try to use sanguine word. More specifically, I will try to filter my thoughts and statements according to the positive or negative words I would need to express the idea, and re-frame my perspective so that it necessitates the use of more positive than negative vocabulary.

I do not mean to say I plan to sugar-coat all my statements from here on out. Far from it. Many situations necessitate the use of negative words. We do not always enjoy every situation we encounter. We do not always relish every food we try. We do not always appreciate everything people around us do. We do not always agree. We should not say we do, if saying so would be false. What I do mean, is that perhaps in deciding if what I am about to say is helpful or detrimental, necessary or not so much, I could use the vocabulary I would need to use to express myself as a marker. If most of the words I would require to express myself could be considered generally negative, I may want to reevaluate whether or not I should communicate this particular thought in this particular moment.

Our choice of words says more about us than we realize. The words we choose to use can say a lot about us. 

Peter Dodds, one of the researchers quoted in the article, explains, "There is a lot in the fundamental way we use language that reflects our nature. ...our social nature is encoded in our language." In essence, we are saying much more than we are saying--or rather, our choice of words says more about us than we realize. Often, we take for granted that when we say words, whatever we use them to say is exactly what we have communicated, but the types of words we choose to use can say a lot about us. What is your language--your word choice--communicating about your nature? I, personally, want the words I choose to communicate intelligence, insight, love, and warmth.

Nothing Ever Lost

"Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1). I have often pondered this scripture when I have questions about my faith, or when I want to find the faith to pray about an issue or concern, but just can't seem to muster the focus or inspiration. I have often used this scripture as a sort of comfort--seeing in it a sort of promise that my expectations for good will be fulfilled. I once had this type of faith explained to me in terms of my dogs.

"Think about your dogs," I was advised. "They don't wonder if you'll come home this afternoon. And they don't question whether or not you'll walk them and feed them when you do get home. They just expect good. They don't ever wonder whether they will get sick or get hurt. They just expect to be happy and healthy and loved. They have faith in those things, unquestioningly. It never occurs to them that it could be otherwise."

Tonight, this scripture occurs to me in a new, practical light: as a prayer for things lost. Think about it: If we have lost something, we may certainly pray to find it again. We may ask God to reveal to us where we have lost the item. Even though we cannot see the item (it is, after all, lost), we can have faith that God, the all-knowing, all seeing Mind, knows its location. In essence, it is not lost at all. It is just unseen. In the last few months, I have had several experiences that prove that trusting our seeming losses to God brings results--that having faith in the fact that they will be found results in the fruition of that hope, that trust.

A little over a year ago, my grandparents gave me a Fitbit Zip. I had been wearing it for roughly two months, and was excited because the weekend coming up I was to run a half-marathon in Florida. I couldn't wait to see my step count after the race. Just hours before my drive to Florida, I took my dogs for a walk, my Fitbit seemingly securely attached to my pants pocket. When the dogs and I returned home from our stroll, the Fitbit was gone. Severely disappointed, I called my husband, who took it upon himself to retrace my route with our dogs that evening--to no avail. When I returned home from Florida a few days later, I, too, retraced my route in vain. Reluctantly, I gave up my Fitbit for lost. I didn't pray about it. I just stopped looking.
 
About seven or eight months after I lost my Fitbit, I lost the very nice (read: very expensive) watch my husband had given me for our five-year wedding anniversary. Absolutely convinced it would turn up, I didn't mention it to my husband for a full week. But, after a week had gone by and I had searched every place I could imagine the watch might be, I told him I had misplaced it. He, too, went on a hunt for my missing watch, searching under car seats, couch cushions, and beds. We looked in every reasonable place. No watch. Still, I had a sense of confidence that the watch would turn up somewhere random, somewhere we would never have thought to look. I didn't really pray about it, but I did expect to find it. I had faith.

But several weeks went by, and still no watch. Severely disappointed, my husband started to talk about purchasing a new one, an idea that grated on me, not only because of the expense, but also because the new watch would only serve as a reminder that I had lost the old, sentimentally valuable watch.

As my husband and I hemmed and hawed over whether or not to buy a new watch, life went on. I maintained the idea that the watch would turn up, and continued to discourage the purchase of a new one.

And then one afternoon, a few weeks later, I was out walking my dogs and I found--not my watch--but my Fitibit! It had been missing for over seven months. I had completely stopped looking for it. It had been buried in snow, rained on, possibly driven over, but as I happened to glance down during our walk--there it was, at the edge of my neighbor's yards. It was a bit scratched up, and the battery was dead, but it was intact, and when I got home and inserted a fresh battery, that little Zip still functioned.

Not only was I thrilled to be unexpectedly reunited with my FitBit, but I also took this as a sign: If I could effortlessly find my Fitbit, which had been outside, exposed to the elements, for months (and how many times had I stepped right over it in those months?), my watch really could still turn up.

And turn up it did.

One morning, feeling rushed to get to work and digging through my shoes in something of a frenzy, looking for the right shoe to match the left shoe I had already located, my watch fell out of the exact shoe I was looking for! It never would have occurred to me or my husband to go into our closet and look inside each individual shoe for my watch, but there it was. And I wasn't even looking for it specifically, just for the shoe it was hidden inside. And it had been there, safe and sound, since the day I had seemingly lost it. My faith that it would indeed turn up eventually proved substantial.

So, next time you lose or misplace something, instead of just hoping to find it, instead of just looking for it, instead of just asking God to please find it for you--pray to have the type of faith described in Hebrews 11:1, faith that is "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

Chocolate Layer Cookie-Cake with Buttercream Frosting

School has been closed for two snowy days, so today, I found a little time to try a new recipe whose ingredients have been waiting in the pantry for just such an opportunity.

The original recipe, called "layered birthday cookie," appears on page 180 of Lauren Floodgate's 500 chocolate delights: the only chocolate compendium you'll ever need. Included here is my modification, which I created to (hopefully) satisfy my husband, who isn't quite as fanatical about chocolate as I am, as well as myself. The main difference between the two, is that the original recipe includes chocolate in the frosting.

What You'll Need for the Cookie-Cake
2 sticks unsalted butter
2 cups light brown sugar
2 eggs
2 tspn. vanilla extract
3 cups all-purpose flour
6 tbsp. cocoa powder
1 tspn. baking soda

What You'll Need for the Buttercream Frosting
1 stick unsalted butter
2 cups confectioners' sugar
1 cup cream cheese
candies of your choice

What You'll Do
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line two, 11-inch springform pans with parchment paper.
2. Beat cookie-cake butter and sugar together. Add eggs and vanilla extract.
3. Whisk together flour, cocoa powder, and baking soda and stir into batter.
4. Divide the dough in half, and press into prepared pans.
5. Bake for 20 minutes.
6. Remove and allow to cool.
7. As cookie-cake cools, prepare frosting. Beat butter and confectioners' sugar together.
8. Beat in cream cheese.
9. Spread frosting over the completely cooled cookie-cakes before placing one on top of the other.
10. Decorate as desired with whatever candies you wish. (I used bittersweet chocolate chips and Reese's Pieces.)

Chocolate Layer Cookie-Cake with Buttercream Frosting decorated with bittersweet chocolate chips and Reese's Pieces to reflect my husband's and my love for dogs

Pasta in a Pot

My husband and I tried a new slow cooker recipe tonight, and it was so successfully delicious, I thought I'd post it here. The original recipe can be found in Fix-It and Forget-It Recipes for Entertaining: Slow Cooker Favorites for All the Year Round by Phyllis Pellman Good and Dawn J. Ranck.

What You'll Need
2 lbs. lean ground beef
2 medium sweet onions
1 garlic clove, minced
14-oz. jar spaghetti sauce
16-oz. can stewed tomatoes
4-oz. can sliced mushrooms (I left these out)
8 ozs. dry shell macaroni, cooked al dente
1 1/2 pints sour cream
1/2 pound shredded provolone cheese
1/2 pound shredded mozzarella cheese

What You'll Do
1. Brown beef in skillet. Drain.
2. Add onions, garlic, spaghetti sauce, stewed tomatoes, and undrained mushrooms. Mix well. Simmer 20 minutes, or until onions are soft.
3. Pour half of noodles into slow cooker. Cover with half of the tomato/meat sauce. Spread half the sour cream over sauce. Top with provolone cheese. Repeat, ending with mozzarella cheese.
4. Cover. Cook on high for 2 hours or low for 3 hours.

What You'll Get
about 8 servings of a satisfying, savory pasta dish

Twenty-Five Givens

Recently, I've been pondering what makes some people capable of sticking to a workout regimen and others, not so much. I am one of the lucky ones who has absolutely no trouble sticking to a training schedule--or motivating myself to run even if I am not training for anything in particular. The first and most obvious reason is simply that I love it. I love running. I actually want to do it. It is not a chore for me, but a cherished favorite activity. The deeper reason, I realized in my recent reflections, is that I just take for granted that I will do it. It's just a fact of my day. I fit exercise into my week the way I make sure to fit in sleeping, showering, eating, or going to work. It doesn't matter if I'm tired. It doesn't matter if I have a stack of papers to grade. It doesn't matter if it's hot or cold or raining. If I planned to run today, I will. There's no question, no other option (barring, of course, illness or serious injury). This realization led me to further introspection, and I started wondering what other activities I engage in because I take for granted that I must or that I will, and wondering about that ultimately led me to compose this post.

When I first started working on this post, I titled it "The Rules I Live By." As I reflected on the values, morals, and motives that guide my actions and decisions, though, I realized they aren't so much rules, a word that can sometimes convey a negative connotation and that implies a consequence for any infraction, as they are "givens."  It is a given, for example, that I will walk my dogs every day. There is just absolutely no question about it. It's built into my every day, period--just like eating or showering or going to bed at night.

Here are the other twenty-four givens I realize I live by:

It is a given that I will...

do something outside every day
exercise in some form or fashion every day
tell the people I love that I love them
write when I can
read when I can
hardly ever watch TV
read the book before I see the movie
read a section of the Bible lesson every day
check the weather forecast (often)
keep a diary or journal
write and adhere to a to-do list
volunteer
use every moment of every day productively
go to bed early
work ahead (If it's not early, it's late.)
recycle every recyclable thing
not wash my hair every day
change the sheets every Sunday
eat dessert
eat breakfast
have faith that it will all work out
smile at people I pass
be kind
follow the rules (for the most part).

I haven't yet figured out how knowing these things about myself is actually beneficial--but it is interesting.
 

Homemade Dog Treats and Joy of Cooking Chocolate Chip Cookies

Yesterday afternoon, at my husband's request, I was baking one of his new-found favorites (now so much a favorite that I have baked these cookies twice a week for the last two weeks straight), chocolate chip cookies from the 1943, war-time recipe found in Joy of Cooking. Whenever I cook or bake, my dogs are my constant kitchen companions, begging for food--but I like to say they're helping. As I put the last batch of cookie dough in the oven, it occurred to me that I could probably just as easily make homemade cookies for them, too, so I got on-line and Googled "healthy, homemade dog treats." Of course a plethora of recipes resulted, and I opted for one from cesarsway.com. Below are the recipes for both the people cookies, and the puppy cookies. These are my modifications, but for the original chocolate chip cookie recipe, look in the 75th edition of Joy of Cooking, published in 2006. For the original dog treat recipe (and several other dog-friendly recipes), click here.

On the left are the people cookies yielded by the Joy of Cooking chocolate chip cookie recipe. On the right are the dog cookies yielded by the recipe posted on Cesarsway.com.

Chocolate Chip Cookies (for People)

What You'll Need
1 cup plus 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 stick of butter, softened
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup brown sugar
1 egg
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
1/2 cup chocolate chips
1/2 cup Reese's Pieces candies

What You'll Do
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
2. Whisk together flour and baking soda, and set aside.
3. In large bowl, beat butter, sugar, and brown sugar until well blended.
4. Add egg, salt, and vanilla to butter/sugar mixture and beat in.
5. Add in the flour mixture and stir until smooth.
6. Stir in chocolate chips and Reese's Pieces candies.
7. Drop by heaping teaspoonfuls onto greased cookie sheet. Bake one sheet at a time for 8 to 10 minutes.

What You'll Get
This recipe yields between 32 and 36 cookies.

Above are the finished cookies, featuring bittersweet chocolate chips and Reese's Pieces candies. They are so popular with my husband that I have baked them twice a week for the last two weeks in a row.

Cheesy Whole Wheat Cookies (for Puppies)

What You'll Need
2 1/2 cups whole wheat (unless your dog is sensitive to wheat, in which case you can use regular flour or oats)
1 teaspoon salt
1 egg
1/2 cup hot water
1/4 cup shredded cheddar cheese

What You'll Do
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
2. Knead all ingredients together until dough forms a ball. (To keep the dough from getting too crumbly, you may have to add small amounts of water as you knead.)
3. Roll dough to about 1/2 inch thick.
4. Slice dough into the shape and size you desire (I just did rectangles).
5. Place dough pieces on lightly greased cookie sheet.
6. Bake for 30 minutes.

What You'll Get
The number yielded here really depends on what shape and size you decide to use, but the resulting cookies are very crunchy and my dogs seem to think they're delicious.

My dogs love these crunchy, easy-to-make, homemade dog cookies, comprised of whole wheat, salt, egg, water, and shredded cheese.

Dog-Walk Detour: Letting Go of Plans can be Rewarding

I am not the most flexible person in the world--I have probably mentioned that on this blog before. Committed, yes. Dedicated, yes. Self-disciplined, yes. Flexible, no. Not even a little bit. In fact, I am probably among the least flexible people you will ever meet. I like a plan--a concrete, set-in-stone kind of plan--for everything. But I'm working on it (sort of), and this past weekend, I practiced my flexibility while out walking my dogs.

I walk my dogs at least twice a day, every day, no matter what. As my uncle would say, "Them's the rules." Two walks a day. At least. Period. (There is little to no flexibility in the rigidity of this routine.) This past Monday, which was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and therefore a holiday from work, was no exception. So, after breakfast, my dogs and I set out. As I do for every walk we take, I already had a route planned in my head. On this particular morning, my plan was to walk a route my family and I refer to as Barn Road Loop. Though my dogs and I had been in the Northern Neck since Friday night and had already enjoyed four walks on the nature trails and through the neighborhood, we had yet to traverse Barn Road Loop. Today, I had decided, was the day.

We completed the first half of the predetermined loop, but when we got to the road that would take us to Barn Road, one of my dogs rebelled. He often does, having quite the mind of his own. (It just now occurs to me to wonder if perhaps, like me, he too sets out for our walks with his own predetermined route.) When I tried to coax him into turning left, he locked eyes with me, planted his feet in a posture reminiscent of a stubborn mule pulling against his lead, and held his ground.

Although I was reluctant to alter the route to which I had already mentally committed, I gave in. We weren't in a hurry, after all, and we could still walk Barn Road after this little detour.

No sooner did I stop pulling his leash in the direction in which I had intended to go, than my triumphantly tail-wagging dog led his canine partner and me down his own chosen path. 

When we got to where he was headed, I was so glad I had let him take the lead.

We were rewarded for our detour and for my reluctant flexibility with the absolute picture of peace. The morning was cloudy, but the clouds were starting to break, and their reflection shone like an impressionist painting in the water at our feet. There was no one else around. Not even a car in the parking lot of the nearby clubhouse. It was just me, my dogs, the sea birds, and the rippled reflection of the sky in the river. I grabbed my cell phone from my coat pocket and quickly snapped the photograph below. A sense of gratitude and serenity still washes over me every time I look it.

No sooner had I captured this serenity in the memory of my phone, than I was off to follow my dogs on whatever trail they had in mind now--which ended up being Barn Road Loop.

I let go of my plan as to the route my dogs and I would walk Monday morning and let them take the lead. When we got to where they decided we were going, I was rewarded with this beautiful, tranquil scene. This spot is located in Heathsville, Virginia, near where the Potomac River empties into the Chesapeake Bay.

Easy, Scrumptious, Homemade Macaroni and Cheese

I love macaroni and cheese. Whenever I order it at restaurants, it tastes delectable--flavorful, gooey, savory. But whenever I tried to replicate that deliciousness at home, it always came out bland and boring. I spent the better part of my marriage trying to find a recipe for homemade macaroni and cheese that my husband and I both liked. A few years ago, I finally did. I made it for the first time in a long time tonight (it's not a slow cooker recipe...!), and I figured I'd share it here. The original recipe, and nine other variations of it, can be found on page 236 and 237 of Better Homes and Gardens: New Cook Book, 15th Edition.

What You'll Need
2 cups dried elbow macaroni (use whole wheat if you want to make it more nutritious)
1/2 cup chopped onion (1 medium) (I actually leave this ingredient out and the resulting dish is still full of flavor)
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/8 teaspoon black pepper
2 1/2 cups milk
1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
1 1/2 cups shredded American cheese
1 1/2 cups shredded roasted chicken
1 teaspoon dried thyme
1 box of stuffing mix

What You'll Do
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cook macaroni noodles according to package directions. Drain. Set aside.
2. For cheese sauce, in medium saucepan cook onion in butter until tender. Stir in flour and pepper. Add milk. Cook and stir over medium heat until bubbly. Add cheeses; stir until melted. Stir in pasta, chicken, and thyme. Transfer to ungreased, 2-quart casserole dish.
3. Top with stuffing mix.
4. Bake, uncovered, for 25-30 minutes. 

Fresh-from-the-oven Stuffing-Topped Macaroni and Cheese

Serving Suggestion
Serve with broccoli and applesauce.

This savory macaroni and cheese dish pairs well with broccoli.

Just Add Running

So, I finally got around to reading a little bit of the January 4 Sunday Richmond Times-Dispatch today, and in the Flair section, I came across this delightful little article by Tom Allen, which caught my eye with its title, "Sharing and caring abound on the trail." "Sharing" and "caring" sounded pretty good to me, but pair those words of love and supply and human goodness with the word "trail," and I have to read the article, the word "trail" evoking images of hikes with my dogs, views of the rolling mountains from Skyline Drive, and running races through the woods.

The article relates the experience Allen's sister had when she spent five months hiking the Appalachian Trail from Georgia, all the way to Maine. I was struck by how similar her hiking experience was to so many racing experiences I have had. Allen writes that "nearly all of them [the hikers] found the wilderness an excellent place to lower their normal defenses." I find the same thing happens when people run together. There's something about taking on the same physical challenge together that makes us want to tell our life stories to each other. I am confident I have divulged--and become privy to--more personal information while out for a run with someone than in any other circumstance. In another situation, I might not make it much beyond "Hello. How are you?" But tie a pair of running shoes on my feet and drop me on a trail or a sidewalk, and I'll tell you almost anything; we're instant best friends. Just add running. As Allen's sister explains, "'On the trail, people are willing to share their stories with one another." She herself "had conversations she wouldn't have had back home in upstate New York."

I have never heard the term "trail angel," but this article taught me that trail angels are people who look out for hikers by leaving "trail magic," such as food or supplies, along the trail for any hikers who happen by. In a race, these "trail angels" are the many volunteers and spectators who cheer on the runners, and supply them with water, sports drinks, wet wipes, and snacks. Last February, I participated in the Donna half-marathon in Jacksonville, Florida. That race can boast some of the most angelic spectators I have ever encountered. People who lived along the route had decorated their houses for the event as if it were Christmas. They had streamers and crepe paper and lights and live music. They provided homemade sausage biscuits, rolls, and cookies. They passed out wet wipes and Twizzlers and water. And surely they buoyed the spirits of every runner, giving us wings to finish our 13.1 miles.

In other races, I have seen equally selfless, encouraging demonstrations of human kindness and spirit. I have watched people without legs finish races in wheelchairs. I have seen runners sacrifice their times in a race to stop and help an ailing fellow runner. I have made some of my closest friends running in races or training for races. Allen's sister said she "came off the trail with a great belief in the goodness of people." I have felt the same way after many a race. On the trail, Allen's sister met people who had just returned home from war zones, people who were looking to meet their soul mates, people who were trying to heal from various traumas. Running, I have met a twenty-something going through a divorce, a young woman whose father's trusted employee had gotten her pregnant, a woman who couldn't decide if she wanted to have children or not. If we had met off the trail, outside of the race, we never would have become each others' confidants-- but just add running, and see what happens. Such camaraderie, compassion, effort, and determination are rarely seen anywhere else. But something about the trail--and the race run on it--exposes these timbers of the human spirit.

As I prepare to start training next week for the Petersburg Half Marathon, I admittedly look forward to my many solitary miles. Running for me is a kind of meditation. But I also look forward to hearing the footfalls of fellow runners pounding the pavement beside me, in front of me, behind me. As Allen's sister said of her fellow hikers, "We were all doing the same thing, and we all knew how hard it was.... We were all in the same struggle...." I know when I run my next race, I am running with thousands of friends. Every time I run a race, I am running with thousands of friends. They may not know me, but we have the love of running together in common, and if necessary--if I stumble in my race--they will have my back, and I will have theirs.

Best of 2014: Top Three Most-Viewed Posts

The end of a calendar year seems an appropriate time to reflect on ourselves and our lives--the lessons we have learned, the progress we have made. So, as we close out 2014 and welcome 2015, I figured I'd review this blog and find out what the top three most-viewed posts of 2014 were. Here they are. Check them out if you didn't get a chance during the past year. :-)

3. With 26 views, the third-place post is...

Nags Head Woods: The Secret of the Outer Banks

This post includes photographs and descriptions of the Nature Conservancy's Nags Head Woods in the Outer Banks of North Carolina. If you head to the beach this year and want a place to hike around and find a little solace, check out this post for information.

2. With 29 views, the second-place post is... 

The Joy of Doing Right: The Story of Ray the Dog

This bittersweet--though inspirational--post relates the life lessons I learned from a little dog named Ray, who I met at Richmond Animal League.

 1. With 39 views, the first-place post is...

As Easy as 1, 2, 3: Saucy Apricot Chicken

This post describes how to make a sweet and scrumptious chicken dinner in your slow cooker or crock pot.