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Whoever can unlock the key to our motivation deserves a million dollars or two. I certainly don’t understand it. Or more accurately, I don’t understand what appears to be my lack of it. The Couch to 5k? Yeah, not going so well. First it was raining every morning for a week, then I was kinda sick, and then I just don’t want to get out of bed at 5:30. I get mad at myself for not going out and running, because I know I need to and I know how great I feel when I manage to do it. But the guilt? Apparently not a motivator. In high school my locker neighbor was a girl with the same name as me, who was a runner. I was always kinda jealous. She was sort of me in another life. Running was definitely not going to happen in high school, though. College? Never even thought about it. Now that I’m older, with a kid and the extra flab to prove it, I’m feeling the draw. Last week I listened to my friend Kay talk about the Austin Marathon, and the more she talked about it the more excited I became. I could do that, right? At least the half marathon. For my first try. And yet, ideas of race glory don’t get me out the door. My best friend is getting married in May. We’ve been friends for approximately forever, and I’ll be standing up at her wedding along with my only other friend I’ve known longer. (They both were in my wedding, and I posted some photos in my 30th birthday post.) Naturally, I want to look amazing for this wedding. And yet? Still not lacing up those shoes. So here we have the mystery of motivation. Long-term motivation. It’s almost as though I’m viewing both these goals as a final paper for school. In school I knew I could waste a lot of time, write the bulk of the paper the night before, and get a good grade. Logically I know that doesn’t work for fitness. My husband says I need to just do it, and then I’ll be motivated because my body will want to do it. Well, if I could just do it I wouldn’t be having this issue. If I could just do it I’d already be running in races. So what to do? How do you solve a problem like The other day I realized I never posted a conclusion to my Eat Local Challenge I had in March. Although at the time I chalked it up to My challenge is still ongoing. At the end of the month I didn’t really stop eating local and go back to eating beef chubs and apples imported from Argentina. Granted, my diet is still a work in progress as I attempt to overcome my addiction to refined sugars and carbs, but I’ve made leaps in my progress, and I have local food to thank. Not just for my diet itself, but for improving my life in multiple ways.  1) I’ve come to love things I assumed I would hate In 2003 I had eggplant for the first time, served up in the traditional, “We’re vegetarians but we have meat-eating guests (that would be me) coming over” method of eggplant Parmesan. Let’s just say it did nothing to turn my favor toward eggplant. Which is why I was apprehensive about the eggplant we began receiving in our CSA box last year. With a CSA you are practically forced to cook what they give you. Turns out? I love eggplant! Raw whole milk. It still freaks people out to hear those words. Except those of us in the know. I was a freaked person before I went to the Stryk Dairy and tasted their amazing milk. Now we only have raw milk at home. OK, I never technically hated tomatoes, but I wasn’t a big fan. Maybe it was due to growing them in my own yard or just figuring out how to cook with them, but tomatoes are up there with eggplant. Once I learned how to cook a simple sauce with tomatoes, onions, and cream? Sold forever. 2) I feel healthier. People who are trained on the Standard American Diet would be shocked that I feel healthier on a diet filled with whole milk, sausages, bacon, and eggs. I’ve actually always been rather healthy overall – chalk up good genes to not having problems with blood pressure or cholesterol despite a lifetime of junk food – but now that I’m eating less processed food it feels like a full body health. Even when I get sick I bounce back quickly. 3) My pantry is stocked. Granted, this is partly due to my obsession with jam, but I think I wouldn’t have cultivated that obsession if I didn’t have such a bounty surrounding me. I don’t think I’ll ever have to buy jam or tomato sauce again. 4) I have a sense of connection I might not know everyone I see at the farmers’ markets, but I feel connected to them. I recognize the farmer’s I buy my food from. I’ve been to a few of the farms. I know exactly where and to whom my money is going. I’ve also met an incredible group of people whom I now consider my friends on account of local food. If you’ve never been to Austin, the food community here is incredibly warm, supportive, and fun. People don’t necessarily think of Austin as a food mecca, but I believe it is. If I ever leave, I’ll only try to replicate what we have here. 5) I see all my food through new eyes. I can taste the difference between a local strawberry fresh picked, and a berry flown in from California. I know the beauty of a farm egg. When my friends left some big-name bacon at our house the other day, I was stunned by how different it tasted compared to the local bacon we buy. At this point I shouldn’t be, but perhaps the reason I’m stunned is because I know how truly good food can be, and what we get in the grocery stores is a pale shadow of that.  It’s not like I’m perfect in my food habits. I’m still a work in progress, like everyone else on this planet. Maybe what I’m saying is propaganda. Maybe I’ve been reading too much Michael Pollan. But I know my experience. Do you eat local food? Why or why not? Do you think I’m crazy? Are you sick of jam yet? Somehow, I’m not. My in-laws were here at the end of May and we went blackberry picking one day. That week I made three batches of jam. I fully admit I’m a little crazy when it comes to jam, but it is so darn easy that I can’t help making a ton of it. And when you have big beautiful blackberries and a full-on bouquet of basil … well, I don’t know what other people do, but I make jam.  Blackberry Basil Jammakes approximately 5 half-pint jars 5 cups blackberries, crushed In a 6-quart stockpot or dutch oven, heat the blackberries and apple juice over medium-high. Stir in the pectin, and bring to a rapid boil. Add the basil, and up to 1 cup of honey, depending on your tastes. Return to a boil for 2 minutes. You know the scene – you’re at a party, and it’s time for the cake to be served. The cake sure looks beautiful, but the frosting … well, you never can tell with frosting. On the cake it all kind of looks the same. The flavor is a mystery. Will it send you running for your toothbrush with its sweetness? Or even worse, will it taste like a dollop of butter? Both can ruin a good cake and cause people to doubt the skills of the cake baker. Unless you never want to be asked to make a cake again (sometimes tempting… ), you need to work on your frosting skills.  Last week I was Megan’s Perfect Buttercreammakes enough to fill and frost a 9-inch two-layer cake 2 sticks butter, softened Dump everything into a large bowl (preferably stand mixer bowl with whisk attachment). Beat slowly at first until everything starts to come together. If you go too fast you will get powdered sugar all over your counter. Don’t do that. Once there is no longer any loose powder, lock the mixer and turn that baby up to 10. Let whip for approximately 5 minutes, until frosting is light and fluffy. Spread on cake as desired. * Tip – the trick to getting smooth frosted cakes is to frequently scrap off excess frosting and dip your spreader into a cup of warm water, then continue spreading. It will look a bit wet as you go along, but the frosting will harden up beautifully.  
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