I can’t even step on the scale which is crazy. I probably weigh less than I did for most of my adult life. Yet the number that will come back, will be higher than it was a few weeks ago, so for that reason I have to wait, and behave (read: eat and exercise) until I feel light enough to risk the weigh-in.
And Instagram bombards with me #noscalevictory stories and emotional posts about being free from the scale, that it is just a number, and that health and how you feel is so much more important. And I am with you. I hear that. The rational side of my brain agrees.
But still, I won’t step on. I will wait. And there are the little tricks that maybe you use to, when MyFitnessPal has badgered with enough notifications that I can delay no longer.
My 3 little rules.
2nd time lucky: Always step on the scale twice, for some reason the 1st reading is 4-6lbs heavier than the second number. The second number always stays the same after that, so if I hop on 10 times, times 2-10 will be the second number. I rationalise that this must be the real weight.
Take it all off: Wear next to nothing, no shoes, no clothes and aim to have a pee or if possible a poo before weigh in.
Timing is everything: I would choose either first thing in the morning (before eating anything), or after a long run (before rehydrating).
My hang up with my weight probably goes back to my teens. I remember not being able to fathom why my ‘number’ was so much higher than my friends’ ‘numbers’? We looked the same, and yet I felt like a heffer. I remember contemplating the weight of my bones, the muscle to fat ratio, anything to try and bring some understanding why I weighed more than them, if I roughly looked like them.
Today, I am in competition with nobody else, not the girls on instagram and not my friends. But that is not 100% true. I have my weight milestones that I constantly harp back to and try to achieve. So in all honestly, I am in competition with my younger self. I can rattle off my weight for the majority of my life’s major milestones: wedding weight, first boyfriend weight, the summer I had a reaction to antibiotics and couldn’t eat weight, pre baby number 1 weight, pre baby number 2 weight… I could go on.
So I mentioned at the start of this post, that I am the lightest I have been for most of my adult life, this means I have won the competition against myself and the majority of my weight milestones. Yay for me. So why can’t I step on the scale? What am I trying to achieve now, what magical weight will make me feel happy… of course a smaller number, but when does that number get too small. Honestly, I don’t know.
And if I am truly honest, does it matter? No. There are more important things in the world to worry about. I live my life, I eat chocolate, I look after my lovely boys and husband, and I (at times) contemplate politics, religion, art – when my tired mummy brain will let me. See I can be rational, I am not obsessed. I do hate to be so introspective, but I wanted to put this out there – my own internal #scalebattle now external.
Do you battle with the scale like I do?