Bike Whining and Tri Pizza

12 Feb

I make the majority of my own food because a) I don’t have kids and b) I do have a flexible schedule and c) I like to save money and also, d) I’d just rather eat my own damned food because I can control what goes into it. Unless we’re talking about Jungle Curry or Peruvian rotisserie chicken, in which case I will leave the cooking to the pros.

When I started triathlon training in the fall and my exercise volume went up to a level similar to what it had been when I was boxing, I was like, “Huzzah! I can eat whatever I want!” Then I watched this Lance Armstrong video about nutrition and hydration in which he talks about how everyone thinks that he can come home from a massive training ride and reward himself with like plates and plates of waffles and bacon stuffed hamburgers and pie but really he sometimes has to “go without” because an extra one or two lbs can add a minute of time and blah blah blah. Watch the video for actual quotes and try to ignore the ridiculous background music.

Now, am I even close to training at Lance Armstrong levels?

(Brief pause to contemplate the sheer stupidity of posing that as even a hypothetical question.)

No. I am not. But I definitely don’t want to add 1 or 2 mphs to my currently abysmal bike pace.  I have to say, and I know I’m gonna sound like a whiny baby but I don’t care: I hate that I am not fast on my bike. I feel like I should be faster. I totally thought I’d be a whiz on the bike because of these concrete Sicilian legs with which I have been genetically blessed/cursed. I thought swimming would be my Cryptonite. And yet, not so! I mean, don’t get me wrong, the swimming is a bitch, but at least I’ve seen rapid improvement. In August, 25 yards felt like a suicide mission. Last week I swam a mile in the pool and I am slowly, oh so slowly, getting over my “shark thing” in open water. Bully for me.

But. I am still. Dragging. My. Ass. Along. On the bike.

Struggling to hit 18mph, while roaming hoards of fancy Brazilians and Italians and Argentinians in fancy gear on fancy bikes go speeding by me at fancy speeds. I know I need to be patient and do the damned isolated-leg drills and pick-ups but it still blows to be the last person back to the parking lot after group rides.

Anyway, I digress. The problem with training all the time (even at mere human-noobie-age grouper-sprint-olympic-crap speeds) is that you’re hungry all the time. I am HUNGRY ALL THE TIME.

So now to the point of this post. I’m back to where I was when I was trying to drop weight and had to get all creative in the kitchen; figuring out how to make healthy food that tastes really good and is really friggin’ clean and packs the best nutrient punch. Only this time, I don’t need to drop any weight; I would just really like not to gain any.

So here’s what I do because I love pizza:

1) I make a ton of dough using King Arthur White Whole Wheat Flour. In fact, I use the recipe for Now or Later Pizza Dough in the King Arthur Bakers Companion Cookbook.

2) It yields four individual pizza crusts. I parbake them all, then cool them down and freeze the ones I’m not gonna use immediately. They look like this:

3) The one I’m going to devour immediately looks like this:

3) Then, after I throw some Pomi tomato puree on top, it looks like this:


I have always been a Pomi fan because they don’t force a ton of salt on me.

4) After that, I top it off with some roasted eggplant (I did that the day before), some chopped up  grilled chicken breast  (also the day before), mushrooms (raw), and a quarter cup of low-everything shredded cheese. It looks like this (only, you’ll have to imagine the cheese as I somehow managed to miss that picture. Hmph):

5) Then I drizzle a little of this nonsense on it because I’ve tried taking it by the tablespoon and that makes me throw up a little:

6) And in the end, my pizza looks like this:

And I can’t even taste the flax oil! Actually, this pizza is awesome. It’s mostly vegetables but still packs plenty of protein and it keeps me satisfied and it wasn’t made by a robot. It was made by me!I can generally get two meals out of one of these bad boys. But today I ate the whole thing because yesterday I biked 30 minutes and then ran 60 and then swam 1900 yards and today I biked 60 minutes and then ran twenty so I figure it’s all good. Lance might call me weak but you know, that’s why he’s a billionaire with a closet full of yellow rubber bracelets and I’m just little old me.

I eat other things too.


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