Well, I turned another year older this past weekendyippee. I had to get a new driver license, and of course the checklist was asked, hair color, eye color, height, weight Ahhh!!! Weight??!! NOOOO!!! Anything but that! Let me pose this question: does ANYONE tell their real weight on their license? Who wants to tell some random BMV worker what they weigh, much less let some hottie cop see it when they get pulled over? Oh, sorry officer, I didnt realize I was going that fast. What? Do I lie all the time? My weight? Ohhh. See, I just lie about that, I really didnt know I was speeding. I chuckled, and stammered out, umm, well, its a little bit higher than what you said. I could have melted into the old checkerboard floor when I said the magic number and some guy in there looked at me like, you have got to be kidding me!
The scale. My nemesis. There is this odd suspense I have when I stand there waiting for the scale to beep back at me with the black digital number reading. Its like the feeling of waiting for your prom date, or going up Drop Zone at Kings Islandterrified, but excited. That butterfly feeling in my stomach hits with the anticipation of losing another pound, then is quickly overcome by a tightening with thinking Im going to be let down. I like to weigh myself in the morning before I get in the shower. In my creative mind, the less clothing I have on, the more real my weight is. Ahh, who am I kiddingI like just seeing a smaller number.
Our class on Saturday couldnt have come at a better time. We talked about just that. Why do we let a number rule our lives? Why do we tell ourselves that just because we arent in a certain weight range, that we arent worthy of anything? The speaker said after she lost X amount, she got rid of her scale. WHAT?! Yes, she got rid of the scale. So often we base weight loss on just how many digits are dropped, we lose sight of the real factors. I couldnt tell you how often I am asked how much I have lost, but rarely do I get asked how I feel. Of course I love saying Ive lost 10 pounds, but I love saying how great I feel even more. I have more energy than Ive had in a long time. Im sleeping better. My skin feels better. My attitude is better. Flat out, Im healthier, and I know Im doing it the right way.
Anyways, I did manage to survive the birthday dinner. My grandma makes this authentic German dinnerand it is to die for. Sauerbraten and spaetzels mmm, mmm, mmm. I managed to stay within my calorie intake, and for the first time in my German eating life, I didnt gorge myself to point of no return. She made the meat with deer (sorry, but Bambie is very lean), and instead of cake, we had the guilt-free Cool whip dessert. It bit the big one though that I couldnt pour sauerbraten gravy all over a plate of spaetzels, but such is life.
Till next time