Weighing In

Yep. I faced my demon this morning.
It’s been a bit of an experiment, the whole not weighing in thing. It was founded in fear, first. I knew that the scale number had jacked up a little bit and I just didn’t want to deal with it, so I looked the other direction every time I walked by the scale. Then I felt free from the scale. I felt like I had this, like I was going to be fine. I rationalized that I don’t need to live and die by the scale. Most people do not weigh themselves once a day, much less two or three times a day… I considered doing an experiment for the summer to see how I would do without the scale. But a sense of uneasiness started to settle in and I started remembering and seeing stuff. Things like my belly suddenly looking like It was spreading out across my lap. My bra suddenly didn’t feel so big and roomy. My shirts that were feeling huge started feeling like they fit again. The heat seemed hotter. But mostly, I started remembering one of my rules: weigh in often or you gain weight like a mother trucker.
When I don’t weigh in, I’m blissfully ignorant. One does not gain weight up to 340 without turning a blind eye to the scale. When I weigh myself I keep track of my day to day weight and instantly can correlate a choice to the result on the scale, most often. It seems like an obvious cause:effect relationship, but it’s a relationship I conveniently ignore when I’m off target and not wanting to care about things so much. When I’m bored with the body project and just want off the merry go round for a little while, hopping off the scale and ignoring my weight is an instant means to that end. But that ignorance leads to gains, and the gains lead to a lot of work. In this case, I have 15 pounds of work, now. I weigh 208. I had visions of the scale reading 225 or something, so I’m pleased I’m not that high, but it is definitely discouraging to be over 200 again. Grrr.

Here I am, again, committing to doing ‘it’ again. Again. Here I am promising myself to get back under 200, again. Here I am, again, promising to drink water like a camel and to move like a hummingbird.
The biggest thing I need to do, that I’m fighting the hardest, is that I need to start journaling my food again. I think I’m way off in my calorie intake since my exercise is pretty stellar. I’m hitting 30-60 minutes of moderate to intense cardio every day and I’m trying to work in more strength training. My gain has got to be because of my eating. So here I am, again, promising myself to start journaling and getting this under control before I go silent and gain 100 pounds again. I’ve done that before- I know I can’t let this get out of control. I’ve worked to hard and am too in love with my life and who I am now to let it all go now. I don’t get to let it go until I’m on my deathbed!

I got these workout pants from Old Navy last week. I have a friend who wears them to Zumba, and she pointed out that they are high rise. I thought that just maybe they might alleviate my need to wear the extra layer of the compression tank, and guess what?? I was right! I was able to run today wearing only my pants and tank top- no compression tank! They do the trick of holding my tummy skin down firmly enough that it doesn’t swing around and throw out my back or tug on my rib cage. It wasn’t nearly as hot, either, to run without the tank. I think I’m going to buy 4 more pairs when they have their next sale because I’m in love. I think I’m fully switching over! 🙂
(Mine are the high-waisted compression capris, embossed, black in a size large, if you were wondering.)