I have never lived in a house with a scale. I've always thought it was unhealthy and would make me obsessive. Following a yogic approach, I thought weight was feeling healthy not a number.
Fast forward to today; I walked into Bed, Bath & Beyond and bought a scale.
After cleansing and one week of P90X, I felt healthy and was curious to see my progress. A twitter friend suggested, "Use the same one and do it once a week at the same time. I think it is a great tool."
As soon as I got home, I ripped open the box as if it was a long awaited gift. I stepped on the scale, excited to be rewarded for my will power and hard work.
I DIDN'T LOSE ONE POUND.
It can't be possible. Did I buy a broken scale? Could it be the old excuse "muscle weighs more than fat?"
Since I have been home, I have stepped on the scale at least 17 times double checking its accuracy. Every time the numbers pop up, my body slugs downward in disappointment.
Defeated and frustrated, I did the least rationale thing possible, I ate chocolate in hopes of erasing my anger.
Before I stepped on that weapon, I was walking with confidence and comfort.
Now I am sad and discouraged.
I should never have bought that scale.