How ironic that I posted about needing to know the numbers and I came home to 2 boxes from Canada, one containing my lovely (or not so lovely) scale! Thursday night saw me able to fulfill that need for numbers and yet I was apprehensive. I was scared. I mean, I knew from how my clothes were fitting about how much I’d probably gained. I knew that it had peaked and was now on the way down but I had no idea where it had peaked and if I was right. So Thursday night I left the box in the living room.
Friday morning came along (as it tends to do after Thursday night, funny that!) and I unpacked both boxes and placed the aforementioned scale in the bathroom. It looked so innocent, sitting there next to the sink, all shiny in its glass and stainless steel-ness. I gingerly stepped onto it and waited.
It did its thing. I held my breathe.
I looked down and sighed. Yep. I was right. I was a grand total of 10lbs up and that’s not even from my lowest. That’s from my last happy weight.
Then I realised I was wearing jeans and I never weigh myself wearing jeans. So I did the obvious thing. I took them off and got back on the scale.
The number was nicer but still not 10 lbs down – strange that! But now I know what I’m working with. While I didn’t know what the number was before, I know that my efforts over the past couple of weeks have helped and I know how to stay on track. I’ve joined a gym (first workout is coming up so I’ll post all about it) and I’m stocking the shelves with healthy food and snacks.
I’m going to aim to only weigh in once a week and not post the numbers per se but the progress itself. I don’t want to be beholden to the numbers. Number do not and never will rule my life.