Screw the Scale!

Starting Weight: 192 lbs

Goal Weight: 132 lbs

Last Time’s Weight: 173 lbs

This Time’s Weight: 169 lbs

This Time’s Loss: 4 lbs

Total Loss: 22 lbs

This Week’s Hours of Zumba: 0.0

Last Week’s Hours of Zumba: 1.0

Total Hours of Zumba: 7

I seriously mean that title. The scale is an object of torture and injustice. I am living proof of that. As can be read in last week’s post I lost barely 2 pounds last week. Nutritionist was convinced I ate something because in two weeks I should’ve lost more. Had a hard time convincing him that I really hadn’t ate anything other or more than approved on the diet and that it was my body sabotaging me.

This week I lost 4 lbs. That’s twice as much as I lost in a total of the two weeks before and I did nothing different this week, I’m even going through a visit by aunt Flo again and don’t even feel bloated. Seriously, if someone has the manual to this body of mine…please return it because I’m in desperate need of it!

Back to that scale…So compared to what I still have to lose I am not even half way if I look at the numbers of the scale. However when it comes to my clothes, it’s a whole other matter. I am speeding toward the point in dieting where my clothes are not fitting comfortably i.e. dropping of my ass while still buttoned, but not yet buying other clothes because I am not even at the halfway point of the goal weight.

I kid you not about the pants dropping of my butt…Yesterday I had to run down the stairs in a hurry to bring hubby a much needed item and when I was downstairs I should’ve pulled my pants up because when I accidently hurt my arm on the doorknob and started jumping up and down from the excruciating pain…I gave hubby the wonderful experience of seeing my pants drop right down to the floor and they were fully buttoned and zipped up…Do I need more prove that I am losing weight?

Furthermore I am wearing shirts this week I haven’t worn in years or always worn with either a jacket or another shirt (much wider shirt) over it. There are hardly any lumps on my sides or that hideous pouch in the front. We have a full-length mirror in our hallway, right next to the toilet where I spent a lot of time because of the gallons of water I drink all day, and I can’t stop looking in surprise at my image. I turn front and side and wonder: where are the bulges and lumps…They are too, like my butt, shrinking away and I don’t care that the scale says I’m behind on schedule for my goal weight…The image of my self in the mirror, the falling pants and the fact that I can wear tights shirts for the first time in years without feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable is more of a reward to me that those stupid numbers on a scale.

I know some of my #twitloss buddies have the everlasting battle with the scale too and my post this week hopefully will help let that go and focus on other stuff so it doesn’t become an obsession. I have since this week and it’s a big relief.

Hugs,
Pearl