Gained Weight Again
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
On Monday I had this nice long blog typed out and it somehow got deleted. I began re-writing it but never got around to posting it. I have it here and then an update at the bottom.
I gained weight again last week; it’s the second week in a row since eating clean and going to the gym more frequently that I’ve had a gain. However, I now need a belt with these pants, so I’m guessing it’s an artifact. My friend suggested getting a scale that measures body fat % in addition to weight, and I think that’s a great idea. I also need to start actually measuring myself so I have the option of non-scale victories. I need to be able to measure progress quantitatively that doesn’t involve the scale.
On a side note, I back-calculated my BF% from my BMI using the Deurenberg method [Adult body fat % = (1.20 × BMI) + (0.23 × Age) − (10.8 × sex) − 5.4 where sex is 1 for males and 0 for females] and got 36.18%, so it will be interesting to see how close that is once I get an actual scale.
I’ve been asking myself some philosophical questions about weight loss and fitness lately. Specifically, if I am guaranteed to never lose another pound, will I still be happy with myself as I am? If I never lose another pound, will I continue to make healthy food choices? Will I continue to go to the gym and challenge myself if the scale will never go down? Where does my motivation really lie?
I would like to say that the answer to those questions is always yes, that I am really motivated toward being healthier and fitter regardless of my pant size, but it’s not true. If there was a button that would zap me to a size 6 I’d hit it in a heartbeat.
However, I know that I am light years ahead of where I was in the past, and that’s what is most important. I remember the first time I skipped a class was in college when I decided that I was too fat to even exist and couldn’t get out of bed all day. I wanted to waste away and die rather than have to be fat. I remember playing the sick counting game and seeing how “strong” I was by eating the fewest number of calories possible in a day. Or weighing myself multiple times a day and beating myself up over any increase, no matter how slight. Or telling my therapist at the age of 25 that nothing I had done in my life (school, job, family) mattered because I was fat and therefore too much of a failure to live.
To me, to mentally not be in that place any more is a huge accomplishment.
So I bought a body fat scale on Tuesday and it came out to 34.3%. Better than what I was expecting. I am pretty pleased.