Taking off the blinders
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
I've been using my scale for more than 10 years. It's a dial scale with the image of a tape measure scrolling across it. I got it as a free gift from American Express. It's served me well, noting when I was at my heaviest and my lowest and points in between.
I've know for a while now that my trusty scale is not accurate. I dared to step on a digital scale at a hotel and at my mother's house once each, and the readings were higher than my scale's. I told myself those readings were anomalies, but I knew inside that my scale was wrong. For months I practiced this denial.
Earlier this year when I reached my lowest weight ever in adulthood and was on track to reach my goal, I set a reward. When I reached my goal weight, I would buy a new, accurate, digital scale. Because at my goal weight I could handle being up a few pounds. Since my goal weight was so darned close, I even bought that scale. And let it sit unopened for 3 months. Because I gained more than 10 pounds in 3 months and couldn't bear knowing that I was even heavier than I feared I was.
Last night I opened that scale up. This morning, I stepped on it.
I did this because I feel good about myself. The scale, after all, is a tool for gauging my relative progress. I don't want to let it define me. I do have a specific goal weight I'm hoping to achieve. But I don't want to associate my sense of success or failure with what that number is. I'd rather gauge it by how strong I feel, by how I look in and out of my clothes, by the definition in my arms, abs and legs, by the good feeling I get when I'm eating well.
So at this point you're probably at the edge of your seat. WHAT DID THE SCALE SAY??? Its reading was indeed higher than my old one's--by 2 pounds. It read 140.0, putting me back over my "fat ceiling." I expected no less and was a little relieved it wasn't worse.
This morning I'll readjust my ticker here. And I'll move on and down.