Dear Diary,
I confess I have been lax in weighing myself weekly as committed. Perhaps it is due to the hormonal state that I was in upon beginning this weight loss program, (and girls, we all know what the water weight does). Maybe it's because the scale is right out there, in public, in full view of the weight training area (hello!???). Or maybe it's because the scale at the gym, the one that is supposed to be so "accurate", sucks.
Now I know that we all like to kill the messenger by tossing the bathroom scale out the window, when we know that in reality the scale is just reaffirming what we knew when we scarfed down that pint of Ben n Jerry's last week, the bag of chips on Tuesday and the half pizza last night. If we are honest with ourselves we will admit that our actions have consequences, and excess food inserted into the mouth does not leave our bodies, but lingers, like that last party guest who won't leave even though it's two am and you have to be up at six.
It is a running joke for me to exit anyone's bathroom with the comment "Your scale is broken," with the underlying message that I can't possibly be that fat.
In this case, however, the offending scale is not offensive because it doesn't tell me what I want to hear. No... it offends me because I don't believe there is any way it could actually be accurate.
Ok, it also isn't telling me what I want to hear.
The scale at the gym has a sliding weight indicator at the top, the kind that as a kid I was fascinated with as the doctor slid it across to read my weight. This scale doesn't glide easily, rocking back and forth until you find the notch that corresponds to your weight. Now, it feels as though it's been soaked in molasses, and you can move it 2 pounds in either direction without the scale reflecting any change in weight. Apparently the gym dues I pay are insufficient to pay for a proper scale, so I will be buying one that I can hide in the bathroom and curse at in private.
Affectionately,
Jane
I confess I have been lax in weighing myself weekly as committed. Perhaps it is due to the hormonal state that I was in upon beginning this weight loss program, (and girls, we all know what the water weight does). Maybe it's because the scale is right out there, in public, in full view of the weight training area (hello!???). Or maybe it's because the scale at the gym, the one that is supposed to be so "accurate", sucks.
Now I know that we all like to kill the messenger by tossing the bathroom scale out the window, when we know that in reality the scale is just reaffirming what we knew when we scarfed down that pint of Ben n Jerry's last week, the bag of chips on Tuesday and the half pizza last night. If we are honest with ourselves we will admit that our actions have consequences, and excess food inserted into the mouth does not leave our bodies, but lingers, like that last party guest who won't leave even though it's two am and you have to be up at six.
It is a running joke for me to exit anyone's bathroom with the comment "Your scale is broken," with the underlying message that I can't possibly be that fat.
In this case, however, the offending scale is not offensive because it doesn't tell me what I want to hear. No... it offends me because I don't believe there is any way it could actually be accurate.
Ok, it also isn't telling me what I want to hear.
The scale at the gym has a sliding weight indicator at the top, the kind that as a kid I was fascinated with as the doctor slid it across to read my weight. This scale doesn't glide easily, rocking back and forth until you find the notch that corresponds to your weight. Now, it feels as though it's been soaked in molasses, and you can move it 2 pounds in either direction without the scale reflecting any change in weight. Apparently the gym dues I pay are insufficient to pay for a proper scale, so I will be buying one that I can hide in the bathroom and curse at in private.
Affectionately,
Jane
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