The Scale - Friend or Foe?

The main thing that prospective WLS (weight loss surgery) candidates ask is if we have any regrets with our decision to have WLS.  For most, the answer is a resounding "no", and almost everyone says they wish they had not waited so long to have the surgery.  This is now my answer too, but it took a little longer for me to come around.  I always try to tell the positives and negatives to people thinking about surgery.   For me, the negative, other than the considerable pain and preparation involved, was coming to terms with my decision the first few months after surgery.  Here I was, still fat, and unable to eat hardly anything.  Granted, this is what I signed up for.  Mentally I knew that - but emotionally, it took its toll.  

I was moody, though I think I hid it pretty well.  At least, I hope I didn't let it change the way I interacted with my friends or clients.  It certainly wasn't their fault.  But anyway, the one thing that I did have in my favor was that for once in my life, the scale was moving in the right direction, and not reversing.  Six weeks after surgery, I passed the lowest weight I had ever gotten to...

*this seriously just arrived at my work - CiCi's is promoting their kids' programs and brought in free 

 goodies - further proof that food addiction is hardest to overcome, hands down*

..."on my own", and the weight kept falling off each week thereafter.  Sometimes I'd lose 1-2lbs in a week, sometimes I'd stall and lose nothing, followed by a 3-5lb loss the next week.  The consistency was good, and I was happy with my progress, but each week I found myself more and more nervous to step on the damn thing.  What if this was the week that I stopped losing, or God forbid started to gain?  I wasn't sure how I would handle it.  Which leads me to the point of this post.

Friday's are my "official" weigh-in day - the day where I record the number.  I used to be very good about only weighing only once a week, and still profess that this is the best gauge of accuracy, not to mention the roller coaster ups and downs on the scale throughout the week is enough to drive one insane.  I've had many weeks where I didn't think I'd pull a good number, and was pleasantly surprised.  Sometimes the reverse happened, but it usually was still ok, just not what I had hoped for.  

So, against my better judgement, I hopped on the scale today.  Factoring in a 12 mile walk / run on Saturday and eight mile (thank you Eminem) walk on Sunday, I expected a good number.  I actually had a figure in mind.  Can you guess where this is headed?  

+3lbs.  

WTF?

It was one of those where I actually stepped on again, like the scale was going to magically adjust or say "just kidding" with a tongue sticking out of it's evil digital readout.  

I know in my head I haven't actually put on three pounds of fat.  My BMR (basal metabolic rate) is about 2100 calories per day - meaning that I have to consume that amount and do absolutely nothing to sustain that weight.  In order to put on three pounds in five days, I would be consuming 2000 calories per day over my BMR, so 4100 calories each of the last five days, assuming I didn't move a muscle.  

That didn't happen.  I'm not great about recording my intake, but I know that did not happen.  It doesn't even factor in the exercise over that time span, which was considerable.  So I know that number is not actually fat gain, and will probably go away in a day or two. 

So why does it still bother me so much?  

Whenever someone in my local or online support group talks about a weight gain, I reassure them that it's probably water weight or muscle gain, something the average scale can't account for.  And it's not like I'm blowing smoke; I actually believe the encouragement I'm giving.  

So why do I not allow myself the same courtesy?  Why don't I believe my own advice?  

Everyone who's been on the diet roller coaster knows the feeling of putting your all into it, not getting that immediate gratification, and quitting.  I've been there.  

I'm not quitting.  Fortunately, that isn't even an option anymore the way it was before.  I hated that at first, but now I've come to love it, and am worried I rely too much on my restriction vs putting the right foods into my body.  I can definitely consume more now than I could six months ago, and I worry that I won't have it in me to change some of the bad habits I've gotten into if and when the scale does start trending the opposite direction.    

This is where my irrational fear of putting three pounds on in five days comes from.  I'm doing some things very well, but I can improve on others.  Time to refocus.

Prior to surgery, I wouldn't have cared if I had put on 3lbs.  In the scheme of being nearly 200lbs overweight, who cares about three more?  In some ways, life was easier before surgery.  

But certainly not better.