That Pesky Scale....

My march towards 45 (September) started in January with me about 10lbs heavier than last summer. Originally from my vacation in Arizona back in Nov/Dec and I was really ok with it. The weather, hiking, and food was all too great to regret just by a few numbers on a scale. I cut back my calories a bit after the trip, but then....the holidays. Did I go on a bingefest? Noooo, but I also relaxed and wasn't counting every calorie. Now that the holidays are over, I thought "Pfffft...no biggie, the weight will just drop off now that I'm back to a calorie deficit" *cue narrator's voice: the weight did not drop off* I'm really having to practice what I preach with my clients...patience is a virtue. This is completely the universe giving me a dose of my own medicine, but, I believe over time, this will actually make me a better coach. I'm not telling myself to just go harder or cut calories even further back. Instead, I'm telling myself: Look in the mirror, take your measurements, and BE PATIENT. I get it. I see the number. I know how much power we've given it. We were brainwashed into believing our entire self-worth, successes, and failures are all dependent on that number. It might take years or hell, it may never change, but I'm learning to tell myself that number is just recordable data. It serves no other purpose than to let me know, along with allllll my other data, where I'm at in a general sense. I don't punish myself or convince myself that once again I've failed at weight loss. This time I can look at pics, at my food journals, my sleep habits, and my stress levels and know if I need to make adjustments or if I should stay the course. The most important feeling I get from the scale now? Empathy for everyone who still struggles.


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