The Scale

(this was originally posted on my first blog 03/15/2016)
I’ve been meaning to post this for a few days but just haven’t had the time. Life is busy, man. I had a rough weekend eating-wise: a birthday + a bags tournament = lots of cake and lots of beer. WHOOPS. Oh well. Life goes on.

Anyway, the main reason for this post is to discuss a big lesson that I’ve learned over the past few years. It took me a long time, and to this day it’s still something I struggle with.

Let’s talk about the scale. That lovely little machine that makes you feel either really good or really bad about yourself and your body. When I first began my weight loss journey, as I have mentioned before, I was very focused on my “goal weight.” I wanted to be 150lbs. So bad. SO SO SO bad. I had initially wanted to reach this goal before my 23rd birthday trip to Las Vegas, NV.


;he picture to the left was one of the nights while on that Vegas trip. Probably the least amount of clothing I had worn in a long time. I felt pretty confident there for the most part; had I worn that outfit when I was 225lbs I would not have been comfortable. I was 163lbs in this picture. Of course I remember the exact number because it’s something I was really bummed out about at the time.

That scale controlled my life. I weighed myself every single day – sometimes twice. I wanted that number to go down so badly. I stopped eating carbs. I stopped drinking. I minimized my calories even more than they already were.

I got emotional about it several time; I was really hard on myself. I felt like even though I had lost 50+ pounds, it wasn’t enough. Maybe losing 75 pounds was too hefty of a goal. Maybe it wasn’t possible. Maybe I hadn’t dedicated myself enough. Maybe if I just ran a few extra miles I could get there. Maybe if I had eaten less than 1,000 calories a day I could drop the extra weight. Then again maybe I couldn’t handle it. Maybe I was going to be “fat” forever.


Now look at the picture on the right. This picture was taken on Friday. I’m now 3 years older, and I weigh almost exactly the same as I did in the picture above. 162.8 pounds. (please ignore the fact that I tried to pose  the same, I’m aware I look ridiculous). 

I now eat by the 80/20 rule (or try to), I drink, I lift, I run, I eat chocolate. I don’t focus on the scale like I did 3 years ago. Yes, I still weigh myself. Of course I weigh myself. I still have a little voice inside of me that’s worried I’ll “relapse” or something and gain all my weight back, so of course I check – it keeps me sane.

But I don’t obsess over it. I don’t make it my main focus. My main focus now is to be healthy. I lift heavier weights than I did the week before, I run a little further, I watch my food intake. I don’t worry so much about my weight anymore as I used to and I am much more confident now than I ever have been.

Let’s play a little game… 


Can you see difference between the two photos?  It took me awhile, and I asked a few people for their opinion.

My arms are leaner, more toned. My stomach is smaller. My thighs aren’t as big.
But I weigh the same. The girl on the left and the girl on the right weigh almost the exact same.

Alas, my point: weight is nothing but a number. It doesn’t mean you’re unhealthy. It doesn’t mean you’re unattractive. It doesn’t mean you’re undesirable. Most people can’t even tell if you gain or lose a few pounds. Why focus on it so much?

Don’t get me wrong, it’s good to have a goal. It’s great to be working towards something.. you should ALWAYS be working towards something. Just don’t let it consume your life.

Weight ain’t nothin but a number, babe.


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