Mostly I'm wondering.
Through the weeks we've been doing this Team Lean thing, I've figured out in my head how far off my scale is from the one they use at the "Y" when we weigh in. I also weigh myself first thing in the morning, without (many) clothes, and I weigh on Thursdays in the afternoon. I also wear (more) clothes, since nudity at the "Y" is generally frowned upon. Buttheads.
I was nervous driving to the weigh-in today, because my scale this morning was about where it was last Thursday. I suspected I would be at about the same weight on THEIR scale as I was last week, or perhaps even up a tad. We have to pay a dollar for each pound gained, and I didn't want the size-zero girl (whose name turns out to be Kelly, not Size-Zero Girl, after all) to tell me I had to pay money. Even if it were only a dollar, it would be a moral defeat, and I was trying to coach myself up on the drive to the "Y." I was telling myself all about how weight fluctuations are to be expected, I can't expect to lose 2 pounds each and every week, blah blah blah blah blah blah. I also told myself that the number on the scale is NOT the most important thing in the world, that my clothes are fitting better (or too big - as is the case with my FAVORITE pair of black Ralph Lauren slacks, which will soon be history because I won't be able to keep them up), and that my eating and exercise habits are part of an overall healthier lifestyle. I KNOW ALL THAT, and yet stepping on that scale is probably the most stressful part of my week.
Well, that and watching Christa Tanella miss the low bar on her mount - HER MOUNT, PEOPLE - and almost go sailing between the parallel bars.
Where was I?
I wore my work-out clothes to the weigh-in. Not that I was planning to work out (not right then anyway), but those clothes weigh less than the clothes I wore to school.
PEOPLE, I CHANGED CLOTHES TO DRIVE SOMEWHERE AND STEP ON A SCALE!!!! What is WRONG with me?
When I got out of the car, I debated whether to take some dollar bills in with me. I didn't want to create negative karma by taking them, but I also didn't want to
I stepped on the scale, the numbers jumped around a minute, and when they had settled, I had lost 1.2 pounds for the week. Not only that, but I entered a whole new set of numbers.
And my whole mood changed. My face brightened, I felt good, my smile got broader, and I felt like a success.
All because of 1.2 pounds. That's only .4 more than the .8 I was absolutely BITCHING about just two weeks ago. It's roughly 6.4 ounces. But the difference in how it made me feel is immeasurable.
When I came home, I insisted that Hubby and I go walk in the park. Our typical route is somewhere around 3-3.5 miles. Then after dinner I went to zumba.
All because of 1.2 pounds. Further proof that educated doesn't necessarily mean smart.