Our bathroom scale is around eleven years old. I think we purchased it around the time we moved into our first apartment.
Our bathroom scale is now evil.
I suppose it was tired of seeing how David and I have let ourselves gain 20+ pounds each, and how we’ve done very little in the last few years to correct the weight gain. As a result, our scale has gone to the dark side.
David and I started the T25 fitness program last week. I don’t plan on weighing myself regularly, as I want to focus on how I feel and how I fit into my jeans, but this morning I stepped on to see what was up. Had one week of working out and not changing my eating habits done anything? I doubted it, because you can’t just exercise and eat like crap and expect good results, but I stepped on there anyway.
142.0 flashed at me. “What?” I muttered. “Surely you jest, scale. There is no way I lost six pounds with the way I’ve been eating.” I stepped off, let the scale clear, and stepped back on. Same number. I still didn’t believe it though, so I repeated the process four more times.
After seeing the same number a fifth time, I grabbed my phone to document my results. Stepped on the scale and… 148.8. I’ve lost zip. And I’ve discovered that my scale is the epitome of evil. It’s like the meanest trainer you could ever have. Teasing you with results when you know very well that you haven’t done much to get them. But it was also a wake up call. I need to stop eating the crap, and that started this morning. No more snacking on Girl Scout cookies, no more corn dogs for lunch. I’m just going to give clean eating a serious go this time, because I want the results.
I want to be the girl you see and can’t help but ask, “You look great! What did you do?”