It’s time.Â After almost fifteen years of worrying about my weight – the actual number on the scale – I’m done.
I’m not going to weigh myself, anymore.
I was watching a commercial today.Â I’m not sure, but I think it was for some weight loss product.Â Anyway, I noticed that the folks in the commercial were throwing their scales out.Â It struck me – that’s what I should do.
Even when I’m losing weight, the scale always depresses me.Â Seriously, I’ve weighed myself, several times a month, since I was 12 years old.Â And I’m tired.Â I’m tired of worrying about “the number”.Â Heck, I’m tired of seeing “the number” go down, feeling elated – and them immediately thinking, “Oh, now I have to be even LOWER tomorrow”.
I’ve starved myself because of the “the number”.
I’ve eaten like a fool because of “the number”.
I’ve been frustrated by “the number”.
I’ve been appalled by “the number”.
Now, I’m down with “the number”.
Instead of worrying about how much I weigh, I’m going to enjoy my life – and work very, very hard to just be healthy.
I’ll know if I’m losing weight.Â I’ll know if I’m gaining muscles.Â I’ll know how I’m doing – and I will no longer be bound to that square foot of self-image determiner.
As a concession to the No. Calories Needed site, I will weigh myself, once a year, on December 31st.Â Other than that, I’m done.
Seriously, I’m done.
Whew.Â I legit feel better.
By the way, I haven’t eaten a single piece of junk food this week – and I’ve spent several hours playing football with my son and working outside.Â See.Â I don’t need no stinking scale.Â Rock on!