Rationally, I know the scale is just an inanimate object. A thing. But it has the power to make or break me some days. Depending on where that little red needle ends up, I can be either elated or full of despair. I know, I know -- it's stupid, to put all the importance on a number. But I can't help it. When I'm on a diet, when I'm doing my part, I want proof that my hard work is worthwhile. That I'm worthwhile. So first thing every morning, I climb on. Well, almost first thing. I make sure I go to the bathroom right before, and I take off my rings. I hold my breath. I look down.
I go from hopeful to angry and depressed in a microsecond. How can I weigh half a pound more than yesterday? Maybe the scale is broken. Maybe I stepped on it too hard. I climb off and hop on again. Hold my breath. Look down. The same. This is so unfair. I give up. I've tried so hard. I feel like I could cry.
Found these two paragraphs in a book I picked up last week. Its called "Are you Losing it?". It expresses where I'm at perfectly.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Hey, just relax. A single day does not a little fella make. We've got to watch it over time, over a week at least. I'm trying to take it a week at a time.
I hate to even say this because I know you know this but a pound of fat is 3,500 calories. Unless we create daily deficits in the thousands and thousands, we're not going to see dramatic, REAL, immediate weight loss.
The only reason I weigh daily is for my records, period. I graph the results to get a visual of what I've accomplished (or not) over an extended period of time. I'll take a gentle, downward slope on a graph for 5 or 6 weeks over 6 lbs. of water loss from just working in the yard Saturday and Sunday.
I know I'm preaching to a pro so sorry for the reminder. I know you already know all this, Miss Bill.
Post a Comment