Monday, February 9, 2015
kissing the scale goodbye.
"I'm going to give up the scale." She says through labored breaths.
I heard her. Offered a breathless "whoa" over out feet pounding on the pavement. The hill affords me some thinking time. It says I can do it too, give up the scale. I don't tell her because I don't want her to know I'm on board, I want to go home and see what my scale says about being on board.
Twenty four hours later we're back on the roads, running, right foot over left. And I tell her I'm in. I share how I want to savor this year, savor myself and my food and my life and in thinking of savoring all my scale adds is guilt. So I'll join her.
We weighed ourselves the last time on January 1st in her bathroom, sweaty and fresh off a run. And we haven't stepped on a scale in over a month. I miss it some days, when I feel tired and sort of confused about how my day has measured up against yesterday and the day before that and before that too. I miss it because it told me how to measure my day.
Days weren't good or bad. They weren't productive or restful. They lacked pride or frustration. Instead, they were a number. On light days, skinny days, better days, they were 130. Fat days, bad days, ugh days were 135.
That scale told me good morning or not. It told me good afternoon or not. It helped me decide on dinner portions, lunch choices, breakfast options. It told me if I got that second coffee or not. It patted me on the back or kicked my knees out from under me. It said everything, until I said goodbye.
And now, I decide between hunger and satiation. I let me clothes compliment me, instead of questioning their size. I measure my worth in action and deed, not weight and calories.
Some days, I stand where that scale used to be and I look in the mirror. I look at myself, the curves and "trouble spots" and think I am beautiful because I'm me, not because of that measuring thing.
I am beautiful because beauty happens everywhere, even inside of me. That mirror reflects my outsides, a part of me I'm happy with. I look and smile back at me, a genuine, bright smile. I am beautiful because beauty happens everywhere, especially inside of me. And that is a weight no scale is going to measure.
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