I woke up this morning and realized I was done with the juicing. Of course I pranced right over, in my panties and zombie apocalypse t-shirt, to the scale I borrowed yesterday from a neighbor. We don't own a scale, haven't owned one since I was in my 20's. As a matter of fact, when I was walking into the house with it, John said..."Why are you bringing that evil machine into our house!" He actually seemed quite perturbed! I don't believe in scales, I know they aren't good for me personally. I see a scale and I have to step on it and then there's a number in black and white that you can't get out of your head. And for me aside from Freshman year in college when I gained the "freshman 25"(thank you Munich West Germany and a "major" in Beerfest!) I've never been that worried about my weight. True story... the end of my freshman year of college I weighed the same thing I weighed when I delivered both my kids!!! Even then I didn't really diet, just quit with the beer and alcohol and most of it went away.
So for me - it's never really been about the number... more about do my pants fit, does John roll over to my side of the bed when I lie down or do the airlines "suggest" I buy and extra seat just in case! And lately, more importantly it's been about health and fitness... can I run away from the zombies when the Zombie Apocalypse hits! I don't want to be the slowest, juiciest, fat-padded runner in the pack!
But I digress....Back to my story... I pranced over to the scale and stepped on it and Lo and Behold...I saw a number I don't remember seeing much even in high school! 123.5! SAY. WHAT...I stepped on the scale 3 more times just in case. Sort of like the time when I first worked in the lab and I did my own pee pregnancy test and it was positive, so then I drew my own blood and did a serum test and it was positive and so then I drew my blood from the OTHER arm, I guess just in case I was only preggers on one side and it was positive! Sorta like that, 4 times on the scale and still the same number! It was pretty exciting, now I know as soon as I start eating that number is going to go away. I understand that that's not even a number I'm interested in trying to stay at. As a matter of fact as soon as my neighbor is up I will return the evil machine to her and not worry about it again.
But that number and the sense of accomplishment I feel, ARE motivation for me to step back from the Doritos and Slim Jims (but not the Drunken gummies, I'm heading for those when I finish here) and go back to making conscious choices about what I stuff in my mouth. I almost don't feel like eating yet, because of the pressure to make that first bite a good one....