Good Morning peeps!
First things first...
Mmmm they're good! I munched on about a half a pack with some Refresh Tea (which kind of reminds me of this amazing Aveda tea I used to get) @ Sbux while waiting for my Barre Burn class last night. A nice protein-packed on-the-go snack. I should have followed my own advice and ate something with more carbs closer to the intense work out, because I got a little dizzy this time. It was tough and hot hot hot!
Welp, I took the plunge and tried the Peanut Butter Fingers sloppy joe recipe I've been dreaming about last night. I did add some red pepper flakes and a splash of chili powder, and I cut the vinegar down just a tad bit (more between 1/4 and 1/3 a cup).
Lemme tell ya, it was a hit. Guaranteed to make your favorite guy smile and clean his plate! :)
Onto the topic of the day, and it's a tough one.
Let's talk about my best frenimie -- the scale.
My relationship status with the scale on Facebook would definitely be "It's Complicated."
In my younger years (aka high school & early college), the scale and I were inseparable. I spent quality time with her (him? it?) every stinkin morning. I was definitely a prisoner to the number. Whether it was a good start to the day or not sometimes hinged on 0.2 of a pound. I know, I know, I was crazy. Let me tell you, this was no way to live.
I had no concept of "water weight" or what would drive the changes in the numbers from day-to-day. It was just silly, and it definitely made me a little coo coo for cocoa puffs.
Then, I broke up with the scale.
I got to a place where I was confident and comfortable with my body, and I wanted to go out and have fun with my girlfriends without experiencing PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) after the next morning's weigh in.
This break up lasted for about 2 years. I was pretty satisfied with the space we were taking, but whenever I went to the doctor and was FORCED to get on the scale, I was, in a word, TERRIFIED. Often, I would tell the nurse "I don't want to know, don't tell me!!" I'd shut my eyes really hard, and tell myself ignorance was bliss.
Well, ignorance was not exactly bliss.
By the end of college, although I was as happy as could be, my face also resembled a chipmunk's. I hadn't been monitoring my weight at all, and things kinda spiraled out of control.
One night, after enjoying a cocktail (or 6) on Kirkwood (the area where all of the bars are, for all of you non-Hoosiers), I had a sudden boost of confidence (shocker!) and decided it was time to drunk dial the scale. Woooaaahh buddy. Do NOT drink and dial, especially not your number on the scale.
I am not going to share that figure with you all because, frankly, I'm a little embarrassed. Believe me when I say it was NOT pretty. I spent weeks trying to convince myself that either the scale was broken or it was my beer goggles misleading me.
After I got over the shock, I decided it was time to get back together with the scale. We started casually dating, visiting each other about once a week. It was going pretty well, and the number steadily went down over time.
When things weren't moving as quickly as I wanted them to, I signed up for a relationship counselor (aka personal trainer) at my gym. All it took was her lecturing me over the number on that scale a few times, and I was totally turned off again.
Thankfully, at this time in my life, I was a little more level-headed about my eating habits, and I had learned a lot about what did and didn't work for me. I, once again, went a very long time without seeing the scale (I'd estimate about 5 months!).
It was a nice break, but the not knowing really gave me anxiety this time around, because I knew what happened the last time I pulled the plug (Alvin, Simon, Theodore). Finally, I got up the courage to step on the scale one morning, on a "skinny" day, just in case! ;)
I was surprisingly pleased by the number. I might have jumped for joy. I had actually LOST a little weight from back when I was with the trainer. This news made me feel great not because the number went down, but because for *once in my life* I was able to relax and just kind of maintain.
So after this whole experience, I sat down and put a lot of thought into my relationship with the scale.
A lot of people can weigh themselves all the time and not turn into a crazy person. A lot of other people are perfectly comfortable judging their weight by the way their clothes fit, and can maintain it without regular dates with the scale. If you are one of these people, good for you! Keep it up!
I have come to the conclusion that what works best, for me personally, is to have a "long distance relationship" with my scale. I visit my scale about once every 2 weeks, just often enough to make sure things are still going well, but not so much that we are smothering each other.
Even my feet look a little nervous!
This new plan has allowed me to develop a more healthy relationship with the scale...for the most part. I still refuse to get on it unless it is first thing in the morning, pre-coffee, sans-pajamas, post-tinkle (tmi?). Hey, everyone's got a little crazy in them, right? :)
Something to talk about: What is your relationship status with the scale? Single? In a relationship? Married? It's complicated? Domestic partnership???
I'm off to work on a paper and put in some time at the office!
Have a fantastic day and I will see you all back here for freaky deaky Friday!
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