The Evils of Scales

I had a fight with my scale on Sunday. It was trying to claim I had gained two pounds over the week before. I begged to differ. This rudeness was further compounded by learning my husband had lost a pound. Hmph.

Weight loss is such a roller-coaster ride. It may put you on cloud nine when you lose more than just a pound, or throw you body and soul into the depths of despair when you gain just one ounce. I suppose this is why I've never paid too much attention to my weight before. Even for a "larger" woman I've always been pretty healthy. Both my cholesterol and blood pressure are low, and if allowed to go at my own pace I can walk for miles. My heart is quite healthy. It's just my weight I have so many issues with.

The knowledge that muscle weighs more than fat has been my long time friend. Typically in the Spring when I begin a new exercise routine I tend to gain much weight in the beginning due to the impressive inclination of my body to create massive muscles. I have been accused more than once of having awesome Popeye calves. The joking truth, "I was built for work" has passed over my lips more than once.

This inclination toward building muscle has frequently kept me from charting my weight on a scale. In fact, our little household hasn't had a scale in it for many years. The need to change this arrangement came when hubby and I agreed to do a Biggest Loser challenge. Knowing we both have a love for food, we've not done too much changing there. For the most part there has simply been an increase in the amount of vegetables in our diets, as well as some portion control. No, most of our efforts have been put into exercise.

We've been rather bad at it lately. While having our daughter old enough to watch her siblings helps an awful lot, there is still the problem of finding time! Between helping three kids with homework, getting dinner made, getting hubby off to do bishop duties, having daughter in Young Women's, and Mr. B in karate, there are some weeks we're lucky to get out more than once for a jaunty walk around the neighborhood. Of course being here at home I'm able to find some time to do little things in the way of exercise, but folding horrendous amounts of laundry can only get your heart rate up so high.

So today I'm still mad at my scale. I won't talk to it until next week, and I'll see if it's ready to repent of it's evil ways and make me feel a smidge better about myself by claiming I lost those two horrific pounds. It better...