Although my success cannot be measured by an inanimate object, the scale’s reign continues to plague me with its number, ultimately taunting, praising, and/or impeding my progress by its momentary emotional result. When I witness that number popping up for a weekly weigh in, I cringe with elation or despair. Either result causes an emotional response. Enabling the scale’s heightened influence weighs on my psyche, affecting my results.
It creates doubt as it descends slowly or wavers on a plateau. My confidence weakens with a slow decline, causing me to reassess all activities contributing to losses. Should I tweak, change, or alter my behavior? Is there something interfering directly or indirectly? Am I constipated, my hormonal cycle looming, a heavy meal contributing to a slow progression to my goal? Have a strayed from the exercise, food, or guidelines set before me?
I look for non-scale signs of progress, looser clothing, body measurements and fat percentages decreasing, belt notches changing, or energy levels lifting. Yet without my size literally changing, and the scale showing a downward trend, confidence declines in the process. The scale still holds the greatest, negative power that I have yet to release. A victory is letting the number, the scale, and anything resembling such measurement vanish from my existence. Allowing it to remain a tool in the protocol of loss or gain measurement is an unhealthy unit that ought to be banned from the shed. It serves no positive purpose currently. When I release its power, its irrelevance illuminated, I will have scaled a major victory.