Got a rude awakening this week, my friends. A very nasty little reminder why SOD (the scale of doom) has been relegated to the cornfields for the past six months or so.
I know for many people SODs are valuable tools. For me, SOD is something invented for the Spanish Inquisition. It is a torture device that never gives me a straightforward answer. One day it's up, one day it's down.
It's like when women were thrown in water to see if they were witches. Any of those who floated (as I surely would have!) or could swim were obviously in league with the devil, and yanked out to be burned at the stake. Those who sank and drowned...well, death was the price they had to pay in order to be declared innocent.
Either way, there was no good answer. That's what SOD is like to me.
After getting a glimpse of the GINORMOUS number at the Doc's office last week (rationalized away by the big snow boots and clothes I wore) I climbed onto the gym scale on Tuesday night. I shouldn't have gotten on at night, of course, and in clothes....but still, I was shocked.
According to that scale, I've not lost one pound since..oh, November! Now I know for a fact that my pants are much looser. I have gotten comments from non-family members that I've visibly lost weight. So W.T.F???????
I hate SOD. Hate. Not getting back on for weeks and weeks.
But where's the make believe in all this? Well, I admit to suffering from a common dieting disease: fairy-taleitis.
You see, fairy-taleitis makes me think that I can take off pounds at a magical rate, and that the scale will instantly respond. Fairy-taleitis also makes me overestimate the impact of the days when I do eat "clean" and go to the gym, and underestimate the impact of days when nibbles sneak in and my movement is nil.
It's so much easier in the land of make believe, isn't it? Until you try to bring your pretend world and your real world into synch -- that's when the gray matter explodes.
Despite my momentary loss of confidence, I stayed on track this week. Tuesday night's little shock therapy moment did me no good, I will admit. I teetered on the corner of Hopeless and Despair for a good hour or two, before convincing myself to head on over to Tomorrow is Another Day Street.
Happily, I was able to walk to work once this week in my new orthotics and the report is positive! A few funny feelings in the toe, but overall very good. I have hopes of the twinges going away completely very soon.
Would you like to see a picture of my walk this morning?
OK, one more.
So the feet are holding their own, and the tummy is too. That's because I haven't eaten any veggies for about two weeks now. Doctor's reports expected soon, can't wait to see what the mystery results are. At this point, I'm beginning to think I'm just old and can't digest vegetables anymore!
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