I am pretty damn sure I evicted my scale a long time ago. I divorced it. I don’t like the hold it has on me. It brainwashes me into believing that I NEED to always check where my weight is. It’s like if I’m in the same room as it, I’m compelled to stand on it to see what it says like the magic 8 ball you had as a kid that you swore had all the answers to whether or not that cute guy you liked would ask you out. Yeah, sadly I did do that. When I mount the beast I begin obsessing about what those three numbers are like the weight police are going to come crashing through the door and flog me if they are too high. I hate the scale because I know when I’m at or above the weight I want to maintain. Guess what showed up at my house last night. YEP! The dreaded scale and immediately it egged me to hop on…and I did. Now I’m not too horribly overweight for my age but I have decided I would like to shed 20 pounds to get back down to my thinnest weight post kids & 50 lb molting back in 2011 following the lowest point in my life. Even if I get 10 off I’ll be happy. That is my summer project due in full by the time my company outing rolls around in July.
So now we find a few races which means more running. We plan better meals that disclude more bread than I am now consuming as well as cutting the milk and far less snacking during the day. I’m on a mission and god help those that try to distract me. As much as I hate the scale I’m kind of glad it showed up again so I could gauge were I’m at weight-wise and make a plan. Thank God it’s summertime and I can get outside. If it were winter I wouldn’t feel so casual about the whole thing. So, those of you reading this that wish to join my “slimmission” who want to run, walk or take on any physical activity email me and let me know that you’re in. Game On!