Before coffee, eating, showering and getting ready for work I had a part of my routine that could make or break my day:
I’d weigh myself.
Ugg, I know. As if Monday morning could get any worse, I would voluntarily step onto a daily reminder that I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been in my life. Super.
It became a habit after reading some silly article on weight loss. The author suggested weighing yourself daily, so you could stop a small problem before it became a huge problem (like my ass).
But the thing is, I’m a stress eater. And lately I’ve been really busy. Which makes me really stressed. So in the morning I’d weigh myself. And I’d be heavier than the day before. Which would stress me out. So I would eat more. Which would make me feel guilty. Which would cause more stress, and…you get the picture.
So then I started training for my next marathon. And I thought “Hurray! Surely the weight will fall right off! Maybe not the first week, or even the second, but by the third I will for sure be down one pants size.”
Well it’s a few weeks later. And my weight is hovering around the same stubborn number. And I’m still zipping up the same size pants during my morning routine. So I decided to protest.
And I hid the damn scale.
Now I know my weight is my weight and my size is my size and that’s that. I know I’m eating healthier and running more. And I know I didn’t gain weight overnight, and I can’t lose it overnight. But, you guys. I just couldn’t take it anymore. The daily reminder of being heavy, despite sweating in the gym. The awful feeling in the morning after seeing the number, and mentally carrying it with me all day. It may work for some people, but it is not my thing.
And just like that, I eliminated a daily morning stress.
I now have an entirely new way of going about things. My weight loss plan in the months leading up to Grandma’s Marathon in Duluth, is just run and eat healthy.
Instead of stressing about a stupid number.