Every few days, when I'm feeling particularly lean (read: hungry), I take the scale out of the closet and hop on. And every single time it reads the same number.
233.5
It doesn't seem to matter whether I weigh myself first thing in the morning or right before bed, before I eat or after a hearty lunch, undressed or wearing full SWAT gear.
233.5
So then I get the kids involved. They love the scale so they have no problem patiently waiting for me to zero the display and then standing on it as if it were an MBTA trolley or a snowboard: knees slightly bent, arms out for balance, eyes straight ahead. Forty-eight, one reads. 32.5, says the other. Then I step back on, and up goes the readout.
233.5
Now, for those of you who are keeping a tally, this ain't my first rodeo. A month ago I could have written the script for the way my weight loss would go down. I would exercise a lot, I would watch my diet a great deal, and within days I would see the fat falling off. After a while, the weight loss would slow down, but I would still see changes in my body and go down in clothing sizes. That's the way it happened in 2002. And 2005. And 2008 and 2012. But that's not what's happening now. I feel sore, I feel tired, and I feel angry. I feel like my body is betraying me by not showing much difference - if any - even though I'm working my ass off. I know that the scale is not the only thing that matters - but it's one of the things that matter, and the one from which I expected to see a change before all others.
I tell myself I won't get back on, but it doesn't work. Whenever I feel like I might be a little lighter than I was the day before, I drag it back out and the self-shaming starts all over again. It can be really demotivating, but I just have to turn it into motivation to work even harder and do even better.
When will this change? Sooner or later something's gotta give - right? How am I going to reach my goals if I can't even manage to lose a couple pounds?
No comments:
Post a Comment