"So, how did the weigh in go?" I ask Chris on the drive back home from the gym this morning.
He gets this sort of goofy, tentative grin on his face and says, "I don't think that I trust that scale!"
"Because if it's right then I've lost another 8 pounds!"
"That's awesome!" I say giving him a high five. "See, I told you the weight was going to start melting off. You're a guy. That's what happens when you eat right and exercise. I'm so jealous. You're going to lose the weight so much faster than I will."
He smiles all the way home.
My weight loss during the first two weeks of Phase 1 of SBD hasn't been quite as dramatic as that of my HoneyBunny, but I'm happy to also see the number on the scale going down, down, down. Yay!
It's so nice not to fear and loathe the scale anymore.
Weighing myself used to be excruciatingly painful. I hated the scale with a passion. And I was afraid of it. Afraid to get on it because the number always seemed to be going up, up, up. Afraid that I'd see 180 or 193 or - heaven forbid - any number over 200! For a long time in my life I refused to weigh myself saying things like, "I don't want to get obsessed by the number on the scale."
Yeah...ummm...look where that got me.
Had I been a just a wee bit more concerned with the number on the scale, I would probably be in much better shape and at a much lower weight than I am today.
Ah, well, no use crying over spilled milk.
Now I realize - of course - that the scale is my friend. That regular weigh-ins help me track my progress toward my ultimate weight-loss goal. And that getting on the scale will also let me know what's working and what's not.
Obviously the switch to SBD is working. The number on the scale is descending.
When I finally lose all of the weight that I want to lose (and I WILL lose it!) the regular weigh-ins will also let me know when I might be falling back on old bad habits. Gaining a pound here or there...I'll know and I'll take steps. I won't use the, "I'll just watch the way my clothes fit" method of maintenance.
Because - let's face it - that just won't cut it.
It's too easy to slide back into old, bad, unhealthy behaviors after 42 years of living unhealthy. One pound will become two and then five.
Unless I get on the scale.