Strapped to the wagon

I am one of those obsessive people who weighs myself everyday. Every single day. It doesn't make me feel bad, it doesn't necessarily make me feel good. It just keeps me focused and in check.

Well in the last couple of weeks I have completely blown off the idea of weight loss. Although I've talked the talk, there has been no walking what so ever. It started off with a slight cold, which prevented me from working out since I couldn't breathe. Then came a bout with sadness that drove me to stuffing my face with everything in sight. The more fried and chocolatety the better. Then as if it couldn't get any worse, it was "that" time of the month, which only gave me more license to stuff my face. Nothing like a salt and chocolate mixture. I do recall pouring my Nestle Crunch Bunches over my popcorn while watching Star Trek and being in PMS heaven.

The days started off nice and healthy. I made a healthy lunch, ate a healthy breakfast and was ready to go. But by 3pm, I had indulged in too much of everything else.

So obsessively, I continued to get on the scale and saw the number creep up. I said to myself, that's ok, I'll be back on track tomorrow. The ritual went on for about two weeks. The scale was pretty steady so my stress level was low.

Then came this past weekend. I skipped yoga on Friday, skipped hiking on Saturday morning, ate and drank Saturday nite and Sunday nite. So I have avoided the scale for the last few days. Until this morning.

Has your scale ever spoken to you? Well mine did this morning. It said, "you fat ass heifer, stop eating and get your ass to the gym" Have you ever stepped on the scale and were so shocked and flabbergasted by what you saw that you immediately jumped off? Kinda like turning your head and closing your eyes when someone is about to crash or fall? That was my response to my scale this morning. YIKES.

So here were are at 4:30 pm. Not only have I eaten healthy and within reason today, I went for a walk/run after work and will be leaving the house in a minute to do a yoga class.

Sometimes we need our scales to be mean to us in order to get us back on track. It's unfortunate that it has to come to such name calling, but hey, what can you do. You can always tell the scale to kiss your fat ass and keep on going, but I don't know if that will solve the real problem.