Simply Fruit Salad

The trail was thick with the scent of cedar, and branches hung heavy with leaves on the moss painted trees. We trotted in unison hiding from the city beneath the shady lid of the forest. It was a vacation from the scratchy, air conditioned grays and whites of the office, a little adventure in the middle of the day. My travel companions were people whom I had only just met, a middle aged man, a young research scientist, and an intern. We talked mainly out of awkwardness at first: how did you start running, where are you from, what races have you done, but it was not long before things got personal. Do you believe animals are sentient beings, how do you feel about your neighbors, what are some of the ways your belief system has changed over the years, do you feel connected to your parents, do you believe that everyone has an awareness of some sort of a God. Do you meditate?

We trotted deeper and deeper into the woods, sometimes talking, sometimes just breathing, and the path grew mossier. The air was laced with pockets of hot and cold. The two men wore 5 fingered shoes, the kind that make your feet look like they have overgrown hobbit toes. They don't provide much support, but protect the soles from rocks and gravel. The intern went barefoot, I am afraid to say, at my encouragement. That was before I gave myself a bad blister and resigned to stopping my barefoot endeavors until I am able to purchase some 5 fingered shoes. I tried to plead with her, but I had already been too convincing yesterday. She had gone home and researched barefoot running online. Now she was determined to be able to claim her first barefoot run on her facebook status. My convincing her just made it look like I didn't want to be the only one wearing shoes, and I had a moment where I needed to question whether that was in fact the case. My role in the group was not to be the 22 year old bad ass pushing the limits. My role is to be the organizer, to keep people engaged, to build a team. At work I have felt locked outside of a world that is foreign. Running is familiar to me, and runners are people I feel I can trust, once I have run with them that is.

Later that day we sat in lab meeting, the few scattered runners whose legs were splattered with dirt under their clothes amid a collection of scientists. All of us with rosy cheeks and fond memories of our sprint during the lunch hour, and our cool down banter of races to come.

Simply Fruit Salad
1/4 cantaloupe, cubed
1 cup blueberries
1 cup sliced strawberries

serve with
1/2 cup Greek yogurt
1 Tbsp chopped mint
zest from 1 lime
juice from 1/4 lime
1 tsp raw honey

Christina's vote: "This salad made me think in stereo"