I know it’s just a number, I know I don’t really care what that number is. But I wasn’t as careful about what I ate (and drank) as I should have been while we were in Portland, and I am very much dreading weighing in. It’s amazing how much damage a stupid little number can do to my resolve, how discouraging it can be.
Niles thinks I’m being overdramatic; he thinks I didn’t eat as much as I think I did, and he points out that we pretty much walked all over that city, so it’s not like I didn’t get exercise while I was out there. Still… well there’s no point worrying about it now, right? Tomorrow morning will tell.
Unsolicited advice alert: whenever I’m dreading the scale, I try to focus on all the good things I did for my body that week–how much I exercised, the good food I enjoyed, and most importantly, the fact that I made an effort. If that doesn’t work, I remind myself that a lot of things can affect whether or not the scale goes down (the time of the month, for example). If THAT doesn’t work, then I ask myself what my options are. I can get discouraged and give up, which isn’t a very good option, or I can keep trying. Since I started thinking this way, I haven’t given up trying. :)
I love this blog.