I don't care.
I just don't care anymore. Refuse to. Not going to bother.
Whatever the scale says I weigh, I don't care.
(I'm trying real hard to fully convince myself here)
I'm happy, mostly.
It's funny because while that is (mostly) true, I used to say the same thing when I was ginormous. It got to the point where I was so big I never thought I'd get anywhere to the level where I am now. Never thought I could lose 120 pounds. Hell, I never thought I could lose 20 pounds.
But now, here I am, saying the same things.
Am I expanding again? Have I gotten north of 200 pounds?
No. And hell no.
It just seems my margin of error is small and every pound I gain (not that I'm gaining or have gained a lot), every pound I feel I should not have increases my frustration tenfold.
I don't know what I weigh. I weighed myself three or four weeks ago and I was at around 191 or 189, can't remember. I think it was 189 after a workout, 191 before. I'm carrying about 5-7 more pounds now than I was a year ago at this time. I haven't been as restrictive this year as last, although I've been running a helluva lot more now than ever.
Not sure if my body has plateaued or not and has gotten used to the running, but I might do well to try something in addition to running, such as weights or an elliptical session or two a week. I might do that once school starts when I can figure out a semblance of a schedule.
Still, I know I'm doing things right. I do well to avoid the really bad foods. I opt for salads and lighter fare when we go out. I try and eat five-to-six times a day and keep my calories around 1800 whenever possible. And I run. I ran eight miles on Saturday, for crying out loud, and burned more than 1,300 calories (according to The Polar).
So why am I going to give the scale more power than it needs to have?
Now, I'm not saying that I don't care what the scale says if it were to read (God forbid) 200-plus pounds. Frankly, I worked too damned hard to ever let myself slip, to ever let myself have a 2- in front of my weight. I deserve to reap the rewards of my lifestyle change but with that comes continued discipline that I must have now and forever. So this I-don't-give-a-damn attitude doesn't come without a disclaimer.
Despite all of my weight loss, I'm not 100 percent satisfied with how I look. I don't feel comfortable without a shirt on in public and would not think about running without a shirt, for instance. Most of the males on Desert Tortoises could run without a shirt, no problem, but I would not think about it. It's not all bad though. I don't fret about it or anything.
I'm happy with my appearance. That's the bottom line. I'm happy with how I look, I'm happy with the amount of exercise I get in and I'm happy about my nutritional choices.
I'm not a chiseled work of art like Kennedy's new soccer hero but I also am not afraid to post pictures of myself. Here's one from Sunday.
I know I'm moving in the right direction and have made lifestyle choices that will not only prolong my life but will provide me more happiness in my day-to-day life.
So why am I going to fret over what the scale says?