Allow me to qualify ahead of time: the numbers the scale read off to me this morning are by no means static or definitive. I could go step up on it right now, an hour later, and be shown that I gained a pound. That’s exactly why I step on the thing once each day and once only, and use whatever numbers are flashed as a seesaw toward a consistent and gradual decent.
But today’s numbers bear mentioning. Yesterday morning I hit a new low of 215.2, which translates into 19.6 pounds lost since I began regulating and monitoring my calorie intake on March 1. I was very happy to be on the verge of attaining that milestone of 20 pounds lost.
But then I was bad that afternoon, at least relatively speaking. I said to hell with self-restraint, and ate roughly 600 calories of Ritz crackers along with almost 1,200 calories of what was left of a round of artisan cheese. Mmmmmmmm.
Coupled to the trend that what goes down comes back up, I was certain with my overindulging Tuesday the scale would read the numeric equivalent of WTF! But when I stepped on it this morning, instead it shocked me with 213.2, vaulting me completely below anywhere within the 20-pound range and landing me at 21.6 lost.
Dood.
Of course, I say “dood” knowing that tomorrow is another day and in the morning my body might have adjusted to the caloric overload shock it was in today and the scale will give me a reality check that vaults me backwards across the 20-pound mark and into the teens again. But the point is the scale may not be entirely exactly true, but it doesn’t lie either. As long as in the long term what seesaws up also seesaws down, all is good. And for the rest of the day here at a new low of 213.2, I’m just gonna enjoy it.
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