First of all, I need to clarify that there is no such thing as a tropical strawberry.  Tropical cherries, yes (Suriname cherries, Bajan cherries, acerola)… but tropical strawberries?  Nope, though they’d be a wondrous fruit indeed.

What I mean by tropical strawberry smoothie is a smoothie made from frozen strawberries (which are the only strawberries you can get in the tropics without losing your entire paycheck for berries freshly picked… a month ago in California) and some kind of tropical fruit juice.  In other words, this smoothie is going to have you getting jiggy with any of those funky-flavored fruits in a can that Goya makes (or their less sugary, more organic, but somehow less charming, equivalents):

You can pick any tropical juice flavor and this will be delicious:  I’ve used guava, pineapple, passion fruit, tropical fruit medley, and mango. It would also taste amazing with any of the tropical cherry juices–but those are such special treats for me that I like to save them for straight-up, unmixed sipping.

I first devised this smoothie in mile 5 of my second eight-mile run, when my spirits (and hamstrings and hip flexors) were wilting.  I told myself that, if I made it to X point in my run without walking, I could make myself an awesome smoothie when I returned.  It worked and I kept running… and running… and running to the end of the run.

I’m pretty good at bribing myself–and making myself stick to the terms of my own bribes.  I think it’s a gift.  Most people would call it unnecessary stubbornness.  I’ll take either.

Without further ado, this is what you need to whip it up:

• 1 cup frozen strawberries (don’t thaw them!)
• 2/3 cup tropical fruit juice (whichever kind catches your eye)
• 2-3 Tbsp. lemon or lime juice (I use the kind from the bottle for this, usually–since it’s usually a running reward, the thought of juicing anything after a killer long run is enough to make me cry)

To make it, you:

• Wash your hands (well, I do–I’m all sweaty from my run at this  point, remember).
• Throw everything in the blender.
• Blend. (You didn’t think it would be harder than that, did you?)
• Serve in your favorite mug Selfish Seamstress mug (because, though you want to serve it in a wine glass and be all posh, you know you’re hungry and shaky–and therefore likely to break said wine glass).