I posted the blog below in June 2017.
On 1 September 2017, I weighed and had gained 4 pounds, WHAT?
What am I doing wrong?
I measured, no difference, but my clothes fit looser, hmmmm? So I weighed on 4 September before I went to the doctor, and I had lost 6 pounds. I was so glad I hadn't lost hope!
Six pounds doesn't sound like a lot, but there is more. I have been exercising--swimming, and biking mostly--so hopefully I have gained muscle. What else? I am getting up earlier, have more energy, and I am more positive. Not a total loss, eh? In fact, I am taking that as success. It isn't all about the pounds, it about living. Both my doctors gave me a thumbs up as well, Woo Hoo!
I thank God for giving me the determination to stick with it!
The scale is like a magnet drawing me closer, promising success, hope, and excitement as I can possibly see a pound or two lost. Then when I give in and weigh, I am disappointed once again. As many of us know the scale is really not friend. Sure, it shows my weight that day, but there is not a note saying--you gained some muscle from exercising, or you may be carry some water weight that you will lose, or any other reasons why my weight fluctuates from day-to-day.
Needless to say, I have been on the weight yo-yo for years. I lose, keep it off for a few years, but some event would trigger weight gain, such as pregnancy or extended immobility.
I am not just rambling here, the point is while reading one of the Spark People articles about the scale, I thought about a time when I didn't own a scale and did not get out frequently; so, I couldn't weigh, but I kept trying to get my weight down. After a few week, I was out and weighed on a public scale. It was so exciting to see I had lost several pounds and met my goal. In fact, it was great!
Maybe I should just put my scale out of reach some place, and let my energy, my renewed muscles, and my clothes be my guide.