The number. That
&#^&@^& number. Why does it
control me so? Why do I let it define my
success or failure?
In June, I finally made it to “onederland”. Since then, I've been as low as 194 and as
high as 207. I gain, lose, gain, lose
the same 5-10 pounds over and over and over.
I tell myself I’m OK with this. Am
I? I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like a lie. I wake up each day with new resolve. I’m not going to eat this; I’m going to lay
off that. The day happens. Resolve fades. Rinse and repeat.
I may never get down to “goal.” The fact is, I have no idea what my goal is. Oh, I know what the insurance definition
is. Going on BMI, I should be 174 at my
heaviest, an antiquated system that takes no account for muscle built and overall
health in general. Really, a scale
reading defines our health? In a normal
week, I run 2-3 times, walk or do elliptical 1-2 times, and do body weight yoga
exercises 3-4 times. Am I not at least
as healthy as someone who is at their “ideal” weight but is not as active as I
am?
The proof that I am lies in the
numbers below.
My blood work in all areas is good. I am healthy, even though I’m still a little heavier than I should be. I've been in the same weight range for nearly five months, and yet people still ask me how much I've lost since I've last seen them, that I look smaller, even if it has only been a few weeks. I’m not meaning that in a conceited way – I’m not very good at bragging on myself. My point is my body is still changing even if my weight is not.
I’m in good health, and even look forward to running days. But I still eat enough of the bad things to
keep me above my ideal weight. And I
really want to be OK with this, because clearly I’m not changing my diet or bad
habits, or I would do so. It’s not that
I can’t, or don’t think I’m capable of it.
I just plain don’t want to. I
enjoy my bad habits too much. And that’s
worrisome. I fear that the tool has done
all that it can do, and the rest is up to me.
I've never been good at that part.
I’m worried that one day the scale will say 210, and that will be my new
limit, until the day it says 220. I’m
worried that I won’t have the resolve to change if, God forbid, I’m not able to
burn off as many calories as I’m consuming.
In the back of my head, I feel as if I am destined to go
back to the life I have always known. I’m
not sure when the mindset will set in that what I have done, what I do now,
what I am now is permanent, not a fleeting welcomed visitor. I don’t ever want to take for granted what I
can do now and even look forward to doing. It is not something I could have ever done, much
less wanted to do, when I was so much heavier, so much unhealthier.
At the same time, I’m tired of the scale game, especially
if, when it reads higher, I’m not willing, or don’t *think* I’m willing to do
anything about it. I don’t want to feel
like a failure when I have achieved so much over the last 18 months. I WILL NOT DIET. It never worked for me before. But, not dieting shouldn't equate to eating
whatever the hell I want either. There
is a balance. I don’t like balance. I’m not good at it. I’m a very binary person, either on or
off. But life is all about balance. I'm trying. That's all we can really do.
I have a sleever friend that says the scale is her
friend. I wish I viewed it that
way. I’d like to say that I’ll jump on
the scale tomorrow, and whatever it says, I’d be at peace with it. Good or bad, it was earned. Instead, a good reading will probably make me
think I can eat <insert bad food here> today, whereas a bad reading will
make me just want to throw it out the window.
Screw you scale. You
do not define me as a person, or what I've accomplished in changing my
life. I release your power over me.
<Sigh>
I wonder what the
reading will be tomorrow?
<Shaking my head>
