Today I felt like expanding on my final #FindMyselfIn60 post in which I shared my before/after pictures once I had completed the Insanity workout program. These were the photos:
I obviously lost some excess body fat during those nine weeks, and plenty of it. You were all so damn nice, encouraging, and congratulating that I blushed for days after reading the myriad of incredible comments and messages that you made.
In that post, I mentioned that I had probably lost around 18 LBS, but that I also didn’t know because I wasn’t going to weigh myself; I didn’t expand all that much. After sharing it, I read this reply:
“How can you properly be proud of yourself and all you’ve accomplished if you don’t weigh yourself to see just how far you’ve come? It seems like an important and amazing part of the process with how much you’ve obviously lost.”
Well, fudge sticks. I can’t really argue with that one, can I? Without knowing some number on a bathroom scale there’s no way I can be “properly” proud of myself.
I mean, I could look at how much better I fit in all of my clothes or how some of them are just way too big now.
I could think about how much more energy I suddenly have.
I could note that the depression I have been struggling with for ages has finally cleared.
I could notice how much more limber and quick I am in everything I do.
I could look inside my refrigerator and my pantry and note all the healthy food and ingredients that suddenly look delicious to me verses all the junk food that filled my shelves not too long ago.
I could take note of how much less I sweat doing simple activities, or how unaffected my breathing now is when I climb a flight of stairs.
I could feel awesome because I can lift much heavier things, jump much higher, and squat much longer.
I could see my accomplishments as I look at all of the checkmarks on all of the friggin’ Insanity workouts on the Insanity calendar. Yep, every one of them all the way to the end.
I could notice my greatly improved posture and improved stature.
I could look at my increased stamina and my greatly-bettered self-control.
I could think about how I suddenly find reasons to be in photos instead of reasons to avoid them.
I could appreciate my doctor telling me how excellent my health has become so quickly; how my resting heart rate is better; my blood pressure is better; lots of other parts of me are better as well. I could appreciate all that. For sure.
I could breathe in how good it feels to want to go out and do active things with my child when I haven’t been able to find that motivation in what seems like ages.
I could read and hear and absorb and feel good about the endless comments about how much better, and slimmer, and healthier I am looking, both online and in real life.
I could do all that.
But why would I? After all… There is a little hunk of metal and plastic on the floor in my bathroom that will tell me exactly what I should notice and how I should feel about myself.
And it will tell me so simply, too; with a little glowing, blue, three-digit number!
Compliments of the Bitmoji app.
That really does make things so much easier for me when it comes to my self-esteem, loving myself, and thinking I ROCK.
That scale makes it so much easier to be “properly proud” of myself!
What if… I didn’t lose quite as many pounds as I had hoped?
What if I hadn’t lost any more weight, or… <gulp> even gained a pound or two since the last time I weighed myself?
What if my body is retaining water for whatever reason?
What if that number isn’t exactly what I want to see (or better)?!
Goodbye feelings of awesomeness. Ciao feelings of contentment in everything I have accomplished. Adios greatly increased feelings of self-worth and excitement. Au revoir new and ecstatic version of me. I don’t need you. I have a number here that says you were all for naught. And since this number is fancy, and glowing, and shows up right at my feet whenever I need all the “proper” thoughts to enter my mind, I better go with that.
Eff that shiz!
Guess what! I didn’t weigh myself after I finished Insanity. I haven’t weighed myself since (it’s been more than a week). And I didn’t weigh myself for weeks before.
I’ve worked too hard to do that to myself.
But Dan, what if the number is really good?!
Eff that shiz!
Do you know what’s just as damaging as a number being worse than I had hoped? That’s right: a number that is as good or better than I had hoped. And this is why…
If I put any, and I mean any real validation into that stupid number, it will always somehow become more important than anything else. I could step on that scale right now and feel like champion of the world. I could feel sexy as hell. But at that very moment, I will have given myself a new number that I will let decide all of my future self-worth and “proper” proud moments as well. From that point on, few other things matter except that number.
And then eventually the next number.
And the next number.
And the number after that.
Rarely anything else.
And so, dear commenter, to more officially answer your question…
How can I properly be proud of myself and all I’ve accomplished if I don’t weigh myself to see just how far I’ve come?
I am already properly proud of myself. I’m proud of myself for what I’ve accomplished. I’m proud of myself for what I did to remain healthy in my life yesterday, today, and even tomorrow. There is so much to look at that I can easily see just how far I have come. It is only when I step on a bathroom scale that I become a lot more blind to all of it.
I mean, look how much I am rocking it!
That was yesterday. I see a man getting fitter by the day. I see an energy that wasn’t there before. More than anything, I see a genuine smile that was missing for far too long. And guess what.
Today I’m gonna rock it. Tomorrow I’m gonna rock it, too. I don’t know how yet, but I will. I just know that I refuse to ruin that genuine smile by stepping onto a bathroom scale anytime soon.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing