Tuesday, March 4, 2014

My nemesis...the scale.

Granted, the past month and a half hasn't been pretty. Losing my sister definitely put a curve ball in my training and eating. It made me really not give a shit about what I was eating or drinking, and it took away any focus I had on my training. The truth is, I could blame it on grief for a long time, but the harsh reality is, I was eating and drinking like shit before it happened, although not on a grand scale or anything. I could try to convince you that I am at the point in my life where I want to enjoy things, not worry about the scale, or how I look, but, the fact is, those habits are hard to break. I still hop on the scale every morning, and seeing that number going up, then down, or staying steady may not be as dramatic or traumatizing as it once was, it still fucks with my head. I see myself differently in the mirror. I may not be as small as I once was, but I have also packed on muscle in places that were under developed. Has this stopped me from ragging on myself? Of course not, that number on the scale still makes me feel like shit. I have tried breaking up with the damn thing, but I find myself going back to it in hopes it is better and going to treat me a little kinder than before. It isn't and it doesn't. When will I learn my lesson? Are there not more important things to worry about in the world? Each year, I gain a little more wisdom in different areas of my life, but apparently I have a switch that shuts down when it comes to the scale...maybe I just need to finally chuck it out the window....

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