I Know It All

I say I’m not a quitter, but I’m ready to give up after a couple of weeks of little to no movement on the scale. Yes, I know the scale “lies.” I know weight fluctuates daily based on what we eat and drink, our hormones, digestion, bowel movements, and water retention. I know it’s not the sole indicator of weight loss success. I know all of this. (I sound like my fourteen-year old son who knows everything!) It doesn’t change my desire to want to see a lower number on the scale when I step on it after working so hard on my diet.

I know that relying solely on the scale to measure weight loss success is misleading. I know I “should” go by the way I feel, the way my clothes feel, the way I look, and my mood or mental changes. I also know that at almost 50 years old, I am likely in perimenopause and it’s not going to be as easy to lose weight as it was when I was younger and that if I keep doing what I’m doing, the weight will eventually come off.

I still want to see a lower number on the scale.

I’m not “wrong” for that. It’s okay for me to want to see tangible results. The number on the scale is quantifiable; it’s objective, factual even though there are several variables that need to be taken into account. It’s different than the subjective “My clothes feel looser” or “I think my stomach looks a little less bloated today.” Of course the way I feel is very important, arguably most important, as one of the main reasons I’m on this journey is to improve the way I feel–physically, mentally, and emotionally, but let’s be real. Eating healthy without the number on the scale decreasing still puts me at risk. There’s still an extra 100 pounds of fat on my body that shouldn’t be there even if I feel good. That number must go down.

Here’s the problem, though. I don’t feel good. I’ve greatly reduced my sugar and refined carbohydrate intake. I’m already gluten-free. I only eat dairy that I can tolerate. I eat a plethora of lean meats and fresh vegetables. I avoid processed foods. And one month later, I still don’t feel great. I don’t even feel significantly better. I still wake up in pain every day. I still experience anxiety regularly. I still can’t really start doing much physical activity because of the pain. So couple that with the number on the scale taking so damn long to move and, yes, I get discouraged.

Don’t get me wrong. I do believe I see a physical difference in my face and body. I do, on some days, feel slightly less pain. There are some days the anxiety is bearable. I mean, I don’t expect all the pain to dissipate and all the anxiety to just fade away without any remnants of its presence. Maybe I was just hoping for some light scars to remain instead of the repeated reopening of wounds. I understand progress isn’t linear. I understand progress doesn’t happen overnight. After all, it’s only been 28 days. I know.

That doesn’t stop me from wanting immediate gratification. I want the numbers to go down now. I want the weight to come off now. Don’t we all? I mean, I’ve been eating well for a month. Shouldn’t I be shopping for a whole new wardrobe by now?

I guess instant gratification isn’t necessarily “bad.” It might serve me well when I’m engaging in an activity that brings me pleasure and enjoyment. When I want to feel good or better, I can write, watch my game shows, read a book, etc., but I can’t let it interfere with my long-term success. So many times in the past I have overly relied on instant gratification that I have prioritized immediate pleasure over my long-term fitness and health goals. And that’s where the number on the scale comes into play. It’s not necessarily the scale that’s the problem. It’s the cycle of impulsivity and instant gratification that is unhealthy. Perhaps that has contributed to so many unsuccessful weight-loss attempts.

It never mattered what I did with the scale. I could weigh myself daily, weekly, monthly, or not at all, and it didn’t seem to matter. I used to claim the daily weighing was discouraging. Other times I claimed it was motivating or informative. But, whether I weighed myself every day or not at all, it didn’t play a significant role in my weight loss journey because here I am at my highest weight ever.

In my last post, I talked about loving myself and wanting to get fit out of love for myself and my body. If I stop now because the scale is not moving, or not moving as quickly as I want it to, is that loving myself? Where would I be if I give up because the scale is stuck on a number for a couple of weeks? I’d be bingeing, not eating as healthy, consuming too much sugar, and feeling like crap. Is that how I show love for myself and my body? If I did that, if I give up now, I would be a hypocrite.

So where does that leave me? Not everything is black or white, but this decision is: either I continue to show myself love by treating my body with respect and good nutrition or I don’t. If I don’t, I’ll have the instant gratification of pleasure and satisfaction that comes from eating foods that I have traditionally used as comfort, but my long-term health goals will be pushed aside. If I don’t, I’ll end up feeling ashamed for giving up. If I don’t, I’ll continue the narrative that I’m not good enough, not worthy enough to be cared for, not worthy of love.

I know the “right” answer. I know I have to keep going, fighting the impulses and the desire to have it all now. I know I need to push aside the craving for instant pleasure and envision the future, my goals, and my dreams. I know I must do it now because knowing it all without doing anything is equivalent to knowing nothing, which will only drive me into a state of permanent paralysis and emptiness. I know.

And because I know, I must do.