A Watched Pot


Some time ago, my doctor suggested I step on the scale every day.

I know. It went against every piece of advice I’ve ever gotten about weight loss. But her goal was to keep me mindful of my choices. I’ve done it with varying levels of commitment for several years now and noticed that when I step on the scale in the morning, my weight stays on my mind all day and informs my choices.

But 15 days into this Whole 30 and I am still struggling. The fatigue is overpowering. By the time dinner rolls around, I barely have energy to eat. And good lord, I want a drink. And a bowl of really good macaroni and cheese. And a cadbury egg. And a …

You get the picture. I’m feeling weak. My willpower flexes it’s muscles and gets the cartoon dip instead. Cue the slide whistle.

Last time was so much easier. The rapid weight loss kept me going. (Yes, I was weighing myself every day – you’re really not supposed to do that. Please don’t tell Dallas and Melissa!) When I wanted to give up, I’d think about the 5, 10, 15, 20, 25 pounds I’d lost and plow through. That’s not happening this go ’round. And so the siren call of carbs is loud in my mind. And tummy.

So I’m taking a radical step. I’m pledging to stay off the scale for the rest of this Whole 30. I’ve lost 7 pounds so far and am hopeful the next three-four will come off by April 11th. The slowed loss is discouraging and I don’t need that negativity. I’ll tackle the next two weeks with determination and a desire to feel better, if not lighter. Instead of the scale, I’ll be attempting meditation to achieve mindfulness.

We’ll see how that goes.

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