I got a super nice e-mail the other day asking if there was a reason I was so “cagey” about my actual progress in weight loss. Hmm. To be honest, I never thought about writing about *that* on the blawg because I thought the posts would go something like “Today I weighed this much. I’m happy about this positive news. I’ll keep working hard for results!” or “JKGRIRTGJIDFIAURWVORFJSTIJYOER I GAINED TEN POUNDS I SUCK BYE XOXO, CAITLYN WHO WILL BE FAT 4EVA” Because you know. I’m like that. But I shall try.
Sidenote: How awesome is it that I could get an e-mail from a stranger essentially asking about my weight and my reaction is “wow that’s awesome she wrote to me about this and … actually wants to know!” If a complete stranger came up to me on the street and asked me about my weight, they would be met with an indignant, ladylike reply from my fist rearranging their face. No not really. My fist would lose in a tussle with my pillow. My real reply would be something like stare at the person while my brain tried to process if what it registered hearing was correct, then I’d probably call them a bad word and storm off in a huff and rant about it later to everyone everywhere. This blog world is Awesome. Capital letters for emphasis.
I also think I never wrote about my weight because it’s all over the place. My weight has always fluctuated. By the time I finish this post I will probably have gained a pound. My weight itself is fine. My BMI has always been totally fine and average. It’s just that my 5’2 frame doesn’t carry the weight well and don’t like how my clothes fit or how my body looked. Oh and I always knew I ate poorly and was guilty of binge-eating.
Now, after 2 months of actually working at it (i.e.: gym going and thinking more about what I’m shoving in my throat) my weight still fluctuates day to day every day so it’s hard to zero in on how much I’ve lost total. If I had to, I’d guesstimate 5 pounds. If you had told me 2 months ago, it would only be five pounds I would have gone berserk and acted realllllllly classy. It is what it is and, it’s s-l-o-w. Sometimes it feels like swimming against the stream as I’m pretty much flipping my habits of the last 20 years (I’m excusing myself from accountability for newborn and toddler years) and resistance can be futile. I’m actually proud though because what I’m learning is I have a LOT to learn about my body, fitness, nutrition, and just health in general. I’m making healthy changes like drinking more water and no more soda.
I can understand now why some people don’t weigh themselves. My co-worker is adamantly anti-scale and for the life of me I could not wrap my head around that, “But how do you know how you’re doing? HOW DO YOU KNOW!??!” It made no sense to me. The scale was *the* way of knowing! It was the facts! It was the Be All End All! Now that I weigh myself everyday….I get it. The scale is confusing and I usually stomp off the scale cursing. HOW DID I GAIN THREE POUNDS SINCE YESTERDAY, YE MIGHTY SCALE? TODAY I WORKED OUT FOR FIVE MINUTES LONGER THAN I DID YESTERDAY DONTCHA KNOW!? Funny how a stupid little number can elicit such a reaction. That’s all it is- a number. And I fear it, hate it, curse at it. It’s crazy.
I weigh myself at the end of every day. I’ve read, somewhere along my ridiculously Internet trail, that its better to do in the morning? I don’t know. Some days I think the scale puts me in such a bad mood (I have so many angry or self-pitying scale reactionary posts in ‘Trash’ that will never see the light of day because even I have standards) that I should stop hopping on the scale everyday. I joined the Biggest Loser club at work, and so I’ve been toying with the idea of the Friday weigh-in being the only time I get on the scale. Maybe I shouldn’t look at the number at all when I do…but I know I probably will because I can’t help myself. Curiosity killed the Caitlyn.
Thus I have decided to try and not let the scale weigh on me too much (har har). Instead I’m going to focus on better things, like my pants being loose and someone at work chiding me for my shirt being too big. “Buy your size, girl!!!” is music to my ears. Although being 5’2 with big boobs presents all kinds of nuisances when buying shirts. Anyway. There it all is.
What is your scale philosophy? Tell me all about it.
BTW, I know you were worried. My neighbor apologized for his newest biking partner confusing our parking pads and parking behind me the other day. REally his apology should go to the BodyCombat class members for denying them my presence and the opportunity to witness my boxing skills and all. Still irked I have to wait another week but I think the prognosis is that I will live.