It has returned.
Mere moments ago, my scale was brought back into the house. I agreed to a month long separation, but now it is back in my bathroom.
I have to say i was ready to face it again. I was ready to find out if I did gain weight or not and I was ready to restart my weekly weigh ins. I felt confident and secure.
And then the scale arrived.
Don’t get me wrong, I know the number it projects is not the end all be all of my existence. I just sort of feel like I am about to take a test i forgot to study for. Suddenly I’m realizing how many exemptions I either talked myself into or let myself be talked into by my baby.
And I can’t blame him, I went along with him when he suggested take out.
I know he is only going to be as healthy as I make him be. If he suggested take out and I suggested a healthier at home alternative he would have sighed a long suffering sigh of a man who really wants to eat his weight in burritos, but he’d go along with my alternative.
Which means as the one with veto power where meals are concerned any exemptions are squarely on my shoulders. And while I did get my walks in when it wasn’t raining, I started skipping my morning you tube workouts. Mostly because I have been fighting insomnia and mornings are not my happy time. I need to either figure out a way to get myself up, or schedule those workouts for later in the day. I’m guessing the latter is going to be my best option. Although with the upcoming time change I might be able to turn that to my advantage. Even though the clock changes to give me an extra hour of sleep, I might change my alarm to sound an hour earlier so my body feels like it is getting up at its normal time. I just might be able to trick myself into getting into that habit. The Spring time change would kill me, but the Fall one I might be able to pull off. Until then, an afternoon workout may be my best alternative.
But good bad or indifferent, tomorrow morning I am stepping on the scale.
Nothing to be scared of at all.
Its just a scale.
Wish me luck.