Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Results Matter

I wasn't quite ready for the Week One Weigh In. Well, sure, I knew it was coming, but I didn't have the tools properly prepared. My bathroom scale was somewhere out in the garage amid a sea of crescent wrenches, buckets and boots. And when I finally unearthed it after a half hour of sobbing quietly over a box of old photographs like any empty-nested mother, it had a skin of dust that needed a good ol microdermabrasion.
I just knew that before I got this sucker cleaned up, the kitchen would call and I would end up popping a mouthful of muffin or a case of crackers or something way too dangerous to be in the vicinity of my eyes, body and teetering temptation. So, I avoided the kitchen altogether and ran quickly with food blinders on to the bathroom, where this scale was going in the first place. We were going to become good friends,( I hoped), and looked for a practical place to designate as its "forever" home. It had it be in plain site as a daily reminder. But not where it would be covered with wet towels, out of date magazines or the peepee poopoo plunger.
I dusted the scale carefully, knowing not damage it in any way or somehow sabatouge the readout -because my life was depending on this Health-o-meter to be kind. I needed some digital digits that would make me rub my eyes in disbelief, that would cause me to do a happy dance all the way to the mall for a new pair of jeans... that would make me smile and say, "I can do this".
Once it was cleaned up and in place, what to wear to weigh in was my next conundrum. Pajamas or birthday suit? Sweats -or Spanx - or some super dooper miracle air suit that would fit my fat to the favorable weight of a finch feather.
Anyway...avoiding my reflection at all costs, I chose the birthday suit (because Amazon does not carry the air suit at this time), and then slowly proceeded to step on the scale as though it was embedded with shards of serrated glass. I sucked in my gut, stood up straight, and held my breath.
And then I opened my eyes and looked down...
I lost! I lost!
(Of course, the whole thing was kind of embarrassing when my husband walked in while I was whooping and moon dancing and high-five-ing the mirror...)
It wasn't a huge amount of weight, but at least it was a loss and not a gain. And that's the way we all have to look at it. Baby Steps. One day at a time. Do your best and forget the rest.
Let's keep on truckin'.


  1. One step at a time is the way to win! Great start my friend!

  2. One step at a time is the way to win! Great start my friend!