I don't know that I've ever been a slave to the scale. I don't think.... I guess what I mean by being a "slave" to it is stepping on it every day, twice a day, and throwing myself onto the floor in a fit of despair at a 2 oz gain. That has never happened (nor will it). However, for many years I did let it deter my efforts. For example, if, after six months, I didn't lose XYZ pounds, I'd quit. This was when I was watching the Biggest Loser and naively assumed that because I was bigger I'd lose more faster. This is not always true, sadly. So for years, I'd get into "I'm gonna workout and eat healthy!" periods, and would then quit when the scale didn't budge that much. I didn't consider any of the other changes, just the scale. So, maybe I was a slave to it.
Not. Any. More.
I feel that I'm in a safer place now because I've spent the last 16 months breaking through that old cycle of workout for six months--quit for a year--workout six months--quit for another year. Plus, I need it if Weight Watchers is going to work properly. There are two scales at my gym and my weight is different by 1 to 1.5 pounds between the two. That's beyond annoying. Plus, they're "old school" slide-bar ones and I never know if I'm getting an accurate weight. So... I am now a scale owner. Hopefully my sister won't find me rolling around the bathroom floor wailing in despair one morning in the near future.
|My ultimate choice for a donut.|
It's been at least two years now since I've had candy/cake/etc. The closest I get is dark chocolate covered almonds. While I no longer crave cake and can turn it and other sweets away without a problem, some days are MUCH harder than others. Especially when it smells so good. I think I'm a sugar addict. A former sugar addict. At the moment, I'm jonesin' a little!