This post is kind of serious and kind of sad, so I'm going to throw in funny stock photos to lighten the mood.
When signing up for health insurance every year, our provider has an optional health screening. If you score certain points from the screening (good blood pressure, BMI, heart-rate, etc), you can save money on your policy.
Usually I really don't mind the screenings. As someone who exercises frequently and is fairly healthy, I don't really see it as being stressful or scary. I also think it's nice to receive a benefit for being healthy.
But this year I was pretty annoyed. The problem is so simple it's stupid. I looked at the scale when they weighed me. Usually I close my eyes or I get on the scale backwards. Most women who have dealt with any kind of weight issues or disordered eating understand where I'm coming from. But this year I was pressed for time and didn't stop to think, and when I stepped on the scale, I had one of those moments of utter misery.
|The internet is fully of HILARIOUS stock images of women yelling at scales. Is this normal?! Do real women do this?!
The scale shouldn't dictate how I feel. I've come a long way from letting my self-worth depend on the number that I see there. We have no scale in the house and I literally never know what I weigh. I "monitor" my weight by the fit of my clothes; the last time I checked my weight was a few years ago, and I've assumed I'm still the same weight because I'm so short that when I gain/lose weight, my clothes fit totally differently. So avoiding hard numbers works for me.
|Before this scale debacle, I was perfectly happy with how I look; all it took was one look at the numbers to make me question my confidence. That's not okay.
This is all to say that I've had an idea of what I weigh, but haven't checked in a long time, and I've been perfectly happy with my body. But, all that changed when the nurse weighed me at the health screening; the scale said I weighed almost 10 pounds more than I have ever weighed in my life.
|Apparently searching "sad vegetables" brings up pictures of veggies that need to be hugged.
I immediately went into that mode of thinking, "How can I possibly lose this weight?" Logically, because my clothes are fitting me the same and I look the same in the mirror, I had a pretty good idea that most of this weight is muscle mass from my recent training. However, the illogical side of my brain was telling me that I can't possibly look good at this new weight and that I must find a way to lose it.
I know that I no longer fit some of my old favorite jeans. I also know that that's because my thighs and my butt have gotten a lot bigger and more muscular since I started running. It's also totally normal for me to not fit into the clothes I wore when I was 19. I know all this; these are things I came to terms with years ago.
But somehow, even though I was fine with all of this before I was weighed, now it matters. And the scale is to blame for that.
I'm frustrated because I thought I was past the point where weight mattered. Especially because I know that I'm strong, fit, and so much more than just a number on the scale. Especially after all this training and a successful 20 mile run!
Here's the really sad part (as if this wasn't sad enough): a colleague told me later that day that she was sure the scale was seven pounds off. That's exactly how off I thought it was, too. So all this obsession and worry is for nothing, because most likely the scale was just wrong.
I wish that I could just not care. I know the bottom line is that this has taken up too much of my thought process, and that's a problem. I guess I have some stuff to work out in my head that I didn't realize I was still dealing with.
I wish I had a better way to end this rant. Do you deal with scale-issues?
Any words of wisdom?