Back to My Fighting Weight

The other day my sister, Leslie, told me she loves reading about all of the food we are cooking and eating here, but she wonders if I’ve turned into Two Ton Tessie.  She has not seen me since July and, now that I think about it, there have not been too many pictures of me on the blog recently.

So here’s the story.  Those of you who spent time with me as the day or our departure for Spain approached know that I did not exactly march into Barcelona triumphantly, pumping my arms over my head.  The truth is that I limped slowly into town.  I had been working double time until only a few days before we left, as well as packing up the house, organizing and renting our beach house, dealing with visas, health and school records, and all of the other gazillion things it takes to move a family to another country.  I was exhausted, scrawny, anxious, and drained. 

Anyone who knows me knows that I never miss a meal—seriously, I cannot remember the last day that I had fewer than three meals—and that I can put away the food.  I have a healthy appetite.  Fortunately, I have also been blessed with a good metabolism, and I like to exercise, so I’ve never had to worry much about my weight.  But all of that tension and stress caused me to lose weight even though I continued to eat.  I figured once I got to Barcelona, that would change—I would be trying all kinds of new food, and it would take care of itself.  But it didn’t, at least until now.  I think the nine days straight of cannolis, gelato and pasta in Sicily tipped the scales for me, and I am now back at my fighting weight.

I am not one of those people who believes that a woman can never be too rich or too thin.  Rather, I believe in the set point theory about weight.  We each have a weight that is right for us, that our bodies gravitate to.  When we are eating reasonably well and exercising often enough, that’s the weight around which our bodies settle.  So even though I was hardly dangerously thin, my body didn’t feel right to me.  I knew that I was off balance.  So I made sure to eat three squares plus snacks and dessert, saw the acupuncturist, Ferran, and vowed to get healthy again.  You know you are in Spain when your acupuncturist tells you to eat more jamon; that just doesn’t happen in northern California.  Actually, I think he was right—I did need to eat more jamon.  And I have.

So now that I’m mostly back in balance, I suppose I have to make sure I don’t go overboard and get lazy.  I have sometimes fantasized about quitting academia in order to open a shack that serves homemade donuts in the morning and lobster rolls for lunch.  I’d call it “Big Lisa’s”  and I would wear overalls everyday so as not to have any kind of waistband digging into me.  But I’m not quite ready for that.