I saw something scary today. Well, scary to me, at least.
I have a bathroom scale in my bedroom, and I hop on it every so often (ok, well, maybe like three to four times a day) to check where I’m at. Lately this is accompanied by the knowledge that I’ve eaten different things than I normally do because of the holidays, and I am feeling the effects of this. Today I stepped on the scale and saw a scary number, X.
X is a dreaded number because for me, it was always the threshhold between an “overweight” BMI and a “normal” BMI (we can get into of the efficacy of using BMI as a measurement another day). I have comfortably been 3-6 pounds below X for the past few months, and so to see that on the scale was depressing. “What the hell??” I said to myself. “I know it’s the holidays, but come on! It’s not like I’m being totally inactive or eating sticks of butter left and right!” I continued in this manner for a little bit, fretting and shaking my head, filled with the worry that now that my weight has crept back up to X, it would never come down again, and I’m failing my body, and…
And then I stopped. I inhaled deeply, and took stock of what I knew:
1. A friend at the gym, who sees me all the time, just two days ago commented on how trim I was looking, even though I wasn’t feeling so trim myself;
2. I can still fit just fine into jeans that I had to buy a few months ago when I grew too small for my previous pair. In fact, aside from a little holiday tummy pudge, not only can I still fit into them, but they look damn good on me;
3. I had about four or five cups of tea and breakfast before I weighed myself, so it’s possible that some of that weight was water/food weight, and most importantly;
4. Two days ago, I deadlifted 5 x 5 x 5, of 183, 193, and 203 pounds. And I did all that before the primary workout of the day.
The fourth one is the most important to me, because it means that I am not any less FIT than I may have been when I weighed five pounds less than I do now. I can still lift heavy things like it’s my job, and then go and do a workout that involves 100 35-lb kettlebell swings, 100 pushups, and 150 air squats as fast as I can. My body is still doing what I ask it to do, even when I have to modify a workout because of my rehabbing shoulder.
If my body is still a working, kick-ass machine; if my body composition hasn’t really changed; if people are taking it upon themselves to mention unprompted how good I currently look; if I am aware of what I am putting into my body and content with the results…
…then why does X really friggin’ matter????
Conclusion: IT DOESN’T.
Tonight, I’m going to throw away my bathroom scale. 🙂