There is nothing worse than pulling out last summer's jeans, putting them on, trying to zip them up and failing miserably. Well actually, there is. There is running like a madwoman while training for a 5K, taking prima barre classes like I I'm starring in a Black Swan re-make, and eating like I'm one of Gwyneth Paltrow's kids...and still not losing any weight. Not. A. Pound. Not. One. That sucks so bad I can't even talk about it. I mean really, Scale? You couldn't give me at just one pound for all the effort I have put in? Bitch.
I try to focus on the positive. I am up to working out at least 4, sometimes 5 days a week. A big jump from the measly 2 to 3 I was doing. I'm not a couch potato anymore. A lazy ass, yes but none of the bone numbing fatigue I fought for so long. I have increased my running milage by a mile and a half. Even my daughter (the original Miss Prima Ballerina herself) is impressed with my turnout. So I have made progess, measurable progress, just not on the scale.
Why should I care? Shouldn't the progress I've made be enough? Sadly, no. I wish it was, espcially since I have a 10 year old daughter who I want to be proud of and accepting of her body. I don't want her to look in the mirror and be disguted the way I am. Why is it that my measure of success is determined by the scale and all the other accomplishments pale in comparison?
At this point I can honestly say that I could go out and run that 5k at an elite pace and my reaction would be, "yeah, but I'm so dang fat!" and that is so wrong on so many levels. For all the talk of women's bodies are beautiful, I'm still stuck on a bloody scale and it is time to get off. What keeps me glued to that scale? I don't know.
At this point I am re-assessing. I don't want to give up on the workouts that I love and I'm afraid that I'm going to have to trade them in on something more intense (and that I HATE) in order to get that dang scale to budge.
I have met with my nutritionist to go over my diet and I'm eating way to many carbs which is wreaking havoc with my blood sugar. I also noticed one to many "just one bite." Those one bites sure add up. I'm tightening up my diet in hopes of tightening up my belt.
I know that each mile I run, each healthy morsal of food I give my body does wonderful things for my health and that is what I tell myself when I run. When I run I am off the scale comepletly. It doesn't matter who big my thighs are, it only matters that they are strong, and healthy and keep me going, and I actually give thanks to them as I'm running. No wonder I keep running. It keeps me off the scale. Hey, whatever works.