Forbidden Pizza Love

Love.

Have you ever made a pizza that you'd sell your car to eat? I have. Just now. Of course, I have the supreme honor of co-owning (with my husband) a 1995 Ford Taurus. But that's still saying a bunch considering it's still worth a couple of hundred smackaroos. Maybe five. I'm not good with numbers.

Anyway, back to the pizza.

The pizza that I made this weekend was freakin' awesome!!!! Da bomb!!!! I basically mixed the best ingredients from all previous recipes together in one insanely cool, yummy in the tummy, MASTERPIECE. I'm totally not bragging. Kevin loved it too.

But it's all gone. And now all I have is the picture above picture. And two other pictures that aren't quite as good.



Darkish picture of whole pizza.



Strange lighting picture at an oddish angle.

The dough was a perfect combination of crispy and chewy. The cheese didn't taste like the way goats smell. The veggies were well done, but not burnt. The sauce was super spicy and plentiful in every bite. But there's no more. I ate the last two pieces yesterday. I'm not sure what else I have to live for.

Wait a minute! Wait a minute. It's just pizza. Get a hold of yourself girl!

Here's the recipe

• chopped zucchini
• diced onions
• chopped brussel sprouts
• shredded sheep cheese (yes, sheep, the hard cheese, from a wheel)
• 3/4 pound all natural pork sausage
• chopped celery
• 1 small can tomato sauce
• 1 package of Bob's Red Mill Pizza Crust Mix (Gluten Free)

Cook according to the Bob package.

Side note:
I just noticed that I have a tag called "pizza dogs" (see list of tags on the bottom-left of the page). [Update: tag no longer available]. That's wasn't intentional. I've never eaten a pizza dog in my life. Truly.

Summer Night Runs and Bean Bloat

Watch out! They may be small but their feisty!

It’s hot. It’s summer in Texas. So the runs outside have been pushed to the time slot after sunset. That means what I eat after I get home from work is super important for a pleasant run. And like placing a keepsake in a safe spot and then forgetting where it's located, I've evidently misplaced all of the important techniques of late night running. Hey! What can I say? It’s been a while. So let's review the disasterous consequences of poor food choices before a run.

My wake up call came on Wednesday night of this week. Kent, the Super Border Collie, and I start off at a respectable sub-9:30-minute-per-mile pace on our 3 mile run. Kevin’s close to the curb with Kaiya. We’ve both got a buddy system (leashes tied to belts). Kent’s breathing like an asthmatic. Kaiya’s sniffing everything in sight. I’m feeling the cool breeze that’s missing while the sun is out. We’re having fun. Then a mile into the run, I develop a sharp little knife pain in the gut and it dawns on me...

Oh yeah! I need to watch what I eat before these evening runs. Crap. Literally.

During the second mile, that sharp knife pain in the gut turns into a larger knife pain (let’s say a cleaver or bowie). Then ye olde rock in the gut appears. That’s the rock that makes you feel like you’ve gained about 10 pounds around the middle. It’s also the rock that, like molten lava from a volcano, likes to push upward towards the lungs, providing an itty bitty working space. But it's not a rock; it's gass in the stomache. Then, because I had beans for dinner, bean bloat rears it’s ugly head. I look like I’m a couple months pregnant. But no, family peoples! It’s the beans.

This is a man-gut. Mine's not this bad.

So I'm about to resign myself to suffering through it all. And it dawns on me. I’m not training for anything. There is no half-marathon or marathon in my future. I’m not living off a schedule ("schedule" reads “torture”). I can walk off my aches and pains. So that’s what I did. I don’t like walking during my runs because I like to maintain a good steady workout, but hey, one walk is not going to kill me.

They're not that bad! Just don't eat'em before running.

So my dad likes to keep several things in mind when he’s buying or selling retirement stocks/mutual funds or the like, but one of them is the old saying “buy low, sell high.” It’s a good mantra for forcing one to think before one acts. I think I need to find something just as catchy on days when I run after dinner. How about the following. Perhaps they could be made into t-shirts? Perhaps you can come up with better ones?

• "Eat smart, run smarter."
• "Eat smart, don’t fart."
• "Feed the run, not the tum-tum."
• "Want to run? Don’t eat a ton."
• "Run to end bean bloat."
• "Don’t eat and run."
• "Friends don’t let friends eat beans and run."

While I decide on the best slogan, here’s my personal list of guidelines for when I’m running after dinner. I really need to force myself to go through this list before each run! If you want more tips on digesting beans in particular, try out this great article at http://www.lbveg.com/Articles/digestingbeans.php.

• Don’t eat nuts, dried fruit, chips, beans, or milk products (goat or otherwise) for dinner.
• Eat foods low in sodium and fat for dinner.
• Don’t go back for seconds during dinner.
• Drink lots of water during and after dinner.
• Don’t drink a lot during the 30 minutes right before a run.
• Wait at least 3-4 hours after eating dinner before running.
• Don’t get frustrated by digestive issues on the run. It'll be okay, little one. It'll be okay.