The Almighty Scale

So here it is weigh day, the day of accountability the day to see if all my hard work and determination and OCD behavior has paid off. I’m excited to find out, but at the same time I’m scared sick. Why is that? I know I’ve worked hard, I’ve eaten all the right foods, done all my exercise. I made friends with vegetables and flushed my body with 2 liters of water every day. I haven’t had pasta or rice or potatoes, I pitched the sugar, gave up the bread, made cookies and didn’t eat a one, upped my exercise from two fifteen minute sessions a day to an hour at one time--why wouldn’t I lose weight? It’s perfectly logical to believe that the scale is going to reflect my hard work, but I am afraid that in spite of it all, I’m going to get on the scale and it will disappoint me. I tell people all the time, a pound is not necessarily fat--could be fluid, muscle weight. I get on my soap box and preach ‘don’t let the scale own you!’ all of the time, it’s just a number, your success should be measured by your actions, your accomplishments, your attitude. So why does that number mean so much? Because it is the number that has been used for a century to determine who is pretty and who is not, who is healthy and who is at risk, who wears a bikini and who wears a swim dress; who is allowed to ride the mini bike and who needs a plus size scooter. When the weight is going up the scale yells at us--”Get off of me, you fatty! You keep gaining weight and pretty soon you’ll have to get weighed at the Vet’s office!” It assures us that we are growing and gaining and not in a good way and we need to get rid of the excess. And when we take the plunge, when we make up our minds to work at losing the weight we report in on a regular basis to see what the scales tells us--if we lose it slaps us on the back and says “good for you! Aren’t you special?” But if we gain, it slaps us across the face and calls us a failure. Is it any wonder that I see people at my weigh ins back up to the scale and not want to know how they’ve done? It’s a way of surrender, of telling the scale “you win, I can’t take the suspense or the beatings any more.” So what do we do, do we beat the scale silly and trash it? God knows that’s what I’ve wanted to do many times, but would it truly do us any good to become a scale abuser. And no matter how we try to get around it, at some time we are going to have to get on that box with the numbers to determine where our weight is. So here is where I sit, wondering if it is worth it to starve myself until my weigh in, which isn’t until 7:00 pm tonight because I’m afraid of water gain or to put two pounds of food in me and get charged with 2 pounds? Or do I just face the fact that I am doing this thing for my health and I need to know where my weight is, losing weight is such a motivator but then again, not losing is such a pain. I know that in the long run it will all level out, and while I don’t want to go through the agony of defeat, I really do want to know if I’ve got reason to celebrate. So I will drink my water and try to divert my mind for the hours that separate me and my weigh in time and when I get on that scale I will hold my breath and wait for the numbers to stop spinning, and hopefully I will walk away with a smile on my face.