A few weeks ago, I noticed a post on Facebook from the owner of our local Crossfit Nation. She declared she was on a “No sugar, no alcohol” cleanse for 30 days. I was all over it since I’d just made the same vow to myself after indulging in a summer vacation of supersize margaritas and pints of Ben and Jerry’s while floating, not swimming, in the pool.
I commented on the post, and was immediately invited to a small private support group on Facebook. It was great: a place to confess, get encouragement and where I didn’t know any of its members. I guess it was kind of like an anonymous Alcoholics Anonymous.
One of the group members wrote, “No stepping on the scale. Only weigh yourself Day 1 and then Day 30.” I was certain that wouldn’t happen with me. I have a love/hate relationship with the scale: I’m a scale junkie. I don’t have one at home but there’s one in my gym, conspicuously located between the fitness and ladies locker rooms. It just sits there and stares at me when I walk by. I hate that scale. I got into a bit of row with it the other day, and it wasn’t pretty. There’s another one in the locker room but that scale cheats on me and gives inaccurate readings. It actually told me I weigh 10 more pounds than I think I should. At least the one in the hall has the decency to tell the truth.
I can’t stay away from them but refuse to be fixated on a number. Too many people get tricked by “How much do I weigh?” when they should be asking “How do my clothes feel on my body?” and “How does my body feel?” The number on that hateful scale doesn’t tell the whole story because your weight fluctuates day to day more than the stock market.
A number does not measure success. It can distract you from your physical progress just as other numbers in our lives like job titles, height or salary size. I’m breaking up with my scale because the number on it is not the end game. What’s important is learning about myself, challenging myself and enjoying the little victories along the way.