My first major pandemic purchase was an air fryer. This isn’t for the reasons you may think, although I’ve enjoyed attempting to perfect my sweet potato fries recipe. My oven broke in the summer of 2019, and since we were planning on a kitchen renovation in early 2020 and would likely replace it, Hubby didn’t want to pay to have it fixed. Consequently, I didn’t do any holiday baking last year.
I have the urge to bake even during non-pandemic years, so it’s not surprising that this impulse hit me full-force in the spring, like it did so many others. But my oven was still broken. Thanks to some Williams-Sonoma gift cards and internet research, and probably some nagging on my part, a lovely Cuisinart Air Fryer appeared.
Y’all, I love that thing. There is no longer such thing as soggy reheated pizza, and I can throw a couple of hunks of cookie dough in it and have fresh-baked cookies in 15 minutes. Plus, it doesn’t heat up the kitchen nearly as much as the oven, which was important over the hot Atlanta summer.
This post isn’t to extol the virtues of the air fryer, but rather to address one of the side effects of the pandemic, which the air fryer didn’t help. Like many others, I have gained weight. The thing is, I’m not really freaked out about it.
My mindset change has been due to much effort, and I’ll admit I still catch myself with negative food/weight thoughts. Like many women, I grew up in a household where I got mixed messages about food, especially that which is deemed “unhealthy.” Specifically, I learned that thin is good, fat is bad, and yet we consume fattening foods for comfort. Huh?
I believe in body positivity and “healthy at any size.” I do my best not to buy into fatphobia. But it’s a struggle because of the messages we’re constantly bombarded with, which are also conflicted. As Alicia Kennedy writes in this great article on Medium, “It’s the fat person who’s expected to become body-positive, not the rest of the culture that’s expected to stop being fatphobic.”
It’s time for a different perspective.
I recently had a physical, and I sheepishly admitted I’d gained about ten pounds this year. Rather than the lecture I expected, my awesome PCP said she’s seriously considering telling her staff not to weight people because there are so many other, better indicators of health. I knew this, but it was fantastic to hear it from a medical professional.
So, this morning, when I stepped on the scale and saw a number I hadn’t seen since early 2018, I didn’t freak out. Instead, I went through the questions she’s been telling her patients to focus on…
Do I feel strong? Yes
Do I feel healthy? Yes
Does my body do what I need and want it to do? Yes, with the exception of some inflammation issues.
Do I exercise regularly? Yes, almost every day. I’m actually in better shape than I have been since prior to my hysterectomy in 2018.
All right, then. Rather than weight, I need to focus on a couple of other issues, namely that pesky inflammation and the fact my LDL cholesterol is creeping up and pushing my total cholesterol with it (both are “high normal”). However, miraculously considering I’ve been drinking wine at pandemic levels, my triglycerides and liver function numbers are fine.
What am I going to focus on, besides cutting back on wine? Starting after Christmas, Hubby and I will be returning to the Mediterranean Diet, which is tasty, good for inflammation, and great for cholesterol. Most importantly, we both enjoy that kind of food.
If my weight changes, fine. If not, oh, well.
How about you? Other than weight, how do you measure whether you’re healthy? Please comment and let me know.