Sunday, February 23, 2014
Yeah, yeah, I know, nobody likes weighing themselves, certainly not if they're heavy.
But my scales are seriously broken. I don't trust a single one of them. They all give me a 20 pound range that I *could* be. Somewhere in there.
So I've decided to wait until my 3 month follow up. I don't mind visiting my doctor every 3 months while we're on this journey. Not if it means getting the help and support I need, not if it means doing this right.
I'm just not sure how to measure progress. I think I'm going to stick with measuring the journey: how was today's work out? How was today's water count? How was today's food choices?
I was trying to figure out where I became so obsessed with NOT wanting a thigh gap. I mean, for comfort reasons, seems like a good idea---plenty of people hate chaffing, and I KNOW I'm one of them.
But I think it's along the same reasons I decided I don't care about a six-pack.
In order to get a six pack, women generally have to have below a healthy percentage of fat.
And that goes back to, what am I chasing after?
Of course, I'd like a shapely belly and strong, dancer thighs. I've been doing more strength training, core, arms, and legs.
And it's not like if I get a six-pack or a thigh gap I'd panic and race for food.
But it seems like it isn't worth the time and energy to me. My body's appearance isn't so precise.
When I was a teenager, when I was "fat", I was heavy, I was built like a rugby player. I had "child-bearing" hips and AA-cups. I had rippling back muscles and "thunder thighs."
God, I wish I'd never heard those words. I wish I hadn't heard my classmates despairing over their weight because it never would have occurred to me to be ashamed. I wonder where they learned that vocabulary. I wonder how much of my panic was linked to my mother's worry, a natural size zero before having children.
I want to lose this excess fat, yes, but please dear Lord don't let my future children learn this habit.
Please don't let them see a woman whose neck has been photoshopped longer and thinner, whose waist has been airbrushed out of existence and whose thighs and arms have been toned with toner. Please don't let them think that is the ideal.
I am "morbidly obese." But I don't really look it and I don't really feel it and the only people who act like it are guys who act like I exist solely for their viewing pleasure, and doctors who are actually concerned and want my body to work properly.
Scales are evil because they stole years from me. I would give up so easily because I didn't see any movement on the scale ever. I would gain weight while working out. And yeah, maybe I'd be over 300 pounds by now because I'd worked out and gained the entire time, but I have been at Sparkpeople for nearly 4 years now and every time I calculated when my end goal would be I believed it would be completed by now, that I would have enough time to be at the end of my journey by now, but I let a SCALE decide that for me.
Because if I were 350 when they found out that my body isn't working right, well, we'd be in the same boat as I am now, only I would have the muscle and the endurance to let these pounds shed as my body accessed the calories I fed it.
Instead, I'm practically a beginner. Who steps on a scale and then runs crying to her husband, because last week it said 275 and this week it said 300, and that man at the bar commented on her weight and is she still beautiful? Is she still valuable? Does she still have worth?
Scales are evil.
And that's only because I let them be.
So I'm breaking up with my scale.