I want to tell you something.
I have decided...that for the month of July...
I am not going to weigh myself.
Nope. I am not. This thought has been jostling around in my skullbucket for a couple of weeks. I didn't know if I wanted to commit or not. I didnt know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. I didn't know if fairies existed. Now...thanks to True Blood...I do.
Let us role play in Amy's brain.
Stage left: Lights come up on Amy. It's early morning. Freshly pee'd, hair dry, and body naked...Amy steps on scale.
Scale reads 169.4. Amy feels skinny and on the verge of supermodeldom. Lights dim.
Stage right: Lights come up on Amy. She steps on scale. Again, freshly pottied, dry as a bone, and nude.
Scale reads 173.4.
Amy feels like fat cow. Maybe she should visit Jenny's doctor to confirm cow-ness...right before she punches him with her bulbous bicep powered arm.
What I am saying is that where I am right now where I AM, I think I need a break from the scale. It fluctuates a little, and those fluctuations sometimes play a part in my mental place...regardless of whether or not I have gained an inch...I can feel fatter.
You know what I am talking about.
So, starting July 1st...I will weigh for the month and be done. My intention, for the month of July is to try and eat cleaner and make better choices and just live my life.
It's kinda funny this fear that makes my heart race. For the last 2.5 years, I have weighed and focused on the numbers.
But here is what I know:
I know what I need to eat. I know how my body reacts when I make the right choices. I know that me weighing in at 170 or 160-whatever, that a few pounds up or down on the scale, doesn't show on my body. I know that my 170 looks different than other 170. I know that I am healthy. I know that the BMI chart is a pile of dragon shit. I know that if I start taking whey protein and creatine to grow my muscles, that is probably going to grow the number on the scale.
SO. There. I said it to you. And now I have to do it.