Lisa - 1; Scale - 0

I never should have gotten on the scale today. What was I thinking? 

It’s been a quiet, contemplative couple of days. House chores have gotten done. Dinners with family have been enjoyed. A couple phone chats with friends and a tremendous amount of fun reading, work administrivia, and soul-clearing have filled these brisk then sunny days. I’ve been exploring the inner life and external realities of a lower-carb diet. Not for the traditional “new-year’s resolution’ diet thing, but to listen once again to my hunger patterns, mental relationship to breads and pasta. To explore a couple different kinds of recipes with kale, spinach, berries and the like. Body movements and opening began again at the gym, and a couple sessions at home opened up, with various levels of intensity—some playful, some intentional.  Life was feeling good and productive.

Then the scale. I know that strength-training means one doesn’t lose weight, potentially even gains weight. I know my core and upper body strength are more developed than they've ever been in my life. I love walking by the power-tower thing, putting down whatever I’m carrying, and hanging on it or jumping up to play with leg raises or whatever. Whatever suits my fancy. But my weight is as high as it’s been in probably five years!!!! Stepping on the scale, and in one fell swoop, my overall sense of fitness, enjoyment of my body-movements, excitement about my body-listening and hunger patterns went flying out the window. Seemingly without choice (as I experienced it anyway), I careened back into the body-censor and self-flagellation that comes with fearing “I’m too heavy.”

Goodness gracious I get bored with this. Anyone who reads these things must as well?

En route home from a day’s bodywork-learning, I stopped off at the grocery to get just the deli salads I’d been craving. I enjoyed a sample of the ‘buffalo chicken dip’ with a chip, to save myself from buying the whole thing. And home I returned, to a loving dog, a home perfectly-blissfully quiet, and spaciousness just right for enjoying a little workout before a light meal. Without agenda or “workout” to accomplish, I moved in some of the ways I’ve learned, played a little with the power-tower, and eased into a totally different awareness of my body.

I’m so very thankful to be able to move as I do, to smile at the challenge I’ve selected, and move patiently in the small ways that will build to a greater sense of freedom about my own sense of strength. I don’t know if I’ll make it by mid-March, but the journey so far has been just what the doctor—me, myself, and I—ordered. Today, by end of day, I learned I could simply move as it felt good, increase the intensity of exertion as felt good, and know that my shoulders and arms were weary enough for the day.

I ran to the phone, to catch an old friend’s call, and noticed my reflection in the dark-lit window panes. A good form.  A fortunate woman.

Fuck the scale.