Weighing in...

October of 2014, I rejoined (for the 5th time) weight watchers.  In five weeks I lost 10 pounds.  Last November, I started a three month diabetes challenge with Golds Gym.  I worked out, got a trainer, tracked what I ate for three whole months and at the end of those three months, I weighed exactly the same.  My measurements were exactly the same as they had been when I started.  My body fast was exactly the same as when I had started.

But, I wrote a good essay full of sunshine and rainbows shooting out of the butts of unicorns and voila!  (Are you aware of how many people use the word Voila! but spell it horribly wrong every time because they don't know it's French?  It's a lot!) I was selected to be on a speaking panel at the Diabetes Expo at the beginning of March.  On that panel, I spewed some more positivity about exercise and healthy living.  While in my head, I didn't believe anything I was saying.

I've been exercising 4 days a week for nearly 5 months.  I've had a trainer, been counting calories (not completely religiously, but pretty seriously) and watching what I eat for 5 months and guess what.  I look the same.  I weigh the same.  Nothing is changing.

Well, don't get me wrong.  My sister says I look nice almost every time I see her and I really appreciate it.  Thanks, Haley.  My mom thinks that my "muscles" are getting to big.  I did buy myself a pair of jeans, in my regular size, that weren't from Lane Bryant and don't have elastic and spandex in the waist and front.  So I guess yes, there have been some small, minuscule changes.

But, the scale hasn't budged.

I'm so tired of the scale not budging.

I know that being "healthy" is so much more than what I weigh.  I think I have more energy during the day and that I sleep better at night.  I'm pretty sure that my diabetes is better under control right now than it has been in a while.

But that number.

That number is killing me!

I've always known what I weigh, and known that I weigh more than an average girl.  I am not an average girl.  I know that in 11 years of marriage, three babies and having diabetes for the last 8 years has added on some major pounds and that I weigh (gasp) about 50 pounds more than I did when I got married.  Thank heavens I'm tall, right?  That I'm six foot three and not five foot three!  But, no matter what I think about my life and my family and my kids and my husband, I cannot get over the hurdle of the scale.

Just one pound.

Is it that much to ask for the scale to drop a pound, or two, or 15?

I'm just not sure how much more of this routine I can take.  Unfortunately, exercise is now part of my daily life.  I even start to wake up on my own, before the alarm a couple mornings a week.  I like using an elliptical machine and I think it's cool that I can do a plank for a whole minute without dying.  Last week my trainer had me alternate between squats and sprints on the treadmill for half an hour.  At the end, I'd run an 8 minute mile.  And my right knee was swollen three times it's size, but I was pretty impressed with myself after that workout.

Don't I at least deserve a pound for that?

My husband thinks there is something medically wrong with me.  Maybe there is.  I mean, I know that one pound is 3500 calories, so if I cut out 3500 calories from my diet each week, I should lose a pound.  I get the math.  I'm obsessing over the math.  Or, maybe it's just in my head and I'm totally coo-coo for cocoa puffs.

Why can't I be happy with what I look like, knowing how hard I'm trying to take care of  myself and my family?

Why is it that the stupid number on the scale is so important to me?  So important to so many women.

I'm not asking to be skinny.  I don't want to be skinny.  I just would like a little less of me to pinch.  I'd like to lose 20 or 30 pound by the end of the year.  I'd like to see a change, and maybe buy a size smaller pair of jeans.  I'd like to be more comfortable in my own skin and not feel like I'm dressed to embarrass my husband rather than impress him when he makes me go out to dinner to a nice restaurant.

I'd like a physical manifestation that all the work I'm putting in is worth it.  That I'm making the right decisions and doing the right things.

In five months, I've got pretty much nothing.

Here's to hope that in the next five months, I've got a little more than nothing to show for all my work.