Okay, so we all have goals. But I have goals that I get obsessed with. And not obsessed in a good way, but obsessed in a way that drives me to measure my progress every. single. day. which, if you have ever had fitness goals you'll know is not how it works. I also like numbers. I like concrete proof when i've reached my goals (or when I haven't) - and I take this proof to heart.
Two months ago, with the advice of a fantastic and supportive trainer, I decided to lock my scale away. At first, it was terrifying.. And I am not going to lie, the first week was really hard! But, after that, it just became normal. I didn't wake up in the morning and step on the scale first thing. I didn't weight myself getting in (or out) of the shower and I didn't weigh myself after going to the washroom - just to see the difference (don't pretend you've never done this - its a real thing, I think?). Translated: I had 0 idea if I was gaining or losing those pesky couple of pounds that seem to fluctuate day to day, and in all honesty, it felt great! I know that I need physical activity, and I (generally) know what I need nutritionally, so I carried on with my normal, scale-free life.
This week, however, I decided to reconsider my diet and work with that same trainer to create a new nutrition plan (because if you want something new, you need to do something new!). She asked for photos, measurements and wait for it... my weight. Damn. Almost two months I hadn't weighed myself, and suddenly, all the feelings of hitting the scale came spiralling back to me. I'm not going to lie, it took me about half an hour to convince myself to do it - putting it off as long as I could by doing my measurements and pictures first, and then guess what? I climbed up on a stool and took my scale down from the highest shelf in my bathroom, and stepped on it. I read the numbers and almost cried, it was my worst nightmare... I had gained 3 pounds!!! I know what you're thinking: 3 pounds really isn't that much.. But, to me, it was. And then, something crazy (or maybe rational) happened inside my brain. I decided to pull out my last set of measurements and compare them to the ones I had just taken, and saw the difference: I have lost centimetres in almost every single one of my measurement areas.
This next part is dedicated to every single person who has ever told me (or anyone, really) that the scale doesn't matter and that it isn't always and accurate tool for measuring success - call it your "I told you so" moment. I have decided to put the scale back away, indefinitely. And in the off chance I need to use it for one reason or another (similar situation, doctor's appointment, even curiosity) I'll look back at this experience and remember - weight is just a number.
