It is, however, about repairing an important friendship that has been estranged for many years. Of course, I’m talking about my relationship with my scale.
For years, my scale has spread lies about me and my weight, but it appears that it has finally decided to mend fences and speak the truth. Because today, my friends, that lying, backstabbing, two-faced scale finally changed its tune and told me that I’ve lost 26 pounds since April 1.
And now all is forgiven. I mean, I’d totally come across as the bad guy if I didn’t welcome the scale back with open arms after it made such a drastic change in the way it approaches our relationship.
The bromance is back on, Modern Philosophers!
Maybe it was wrong of me to blame my scale for the ridiculously high numbers it would display when I stood on it, but how was I to know it wasn’t lying? It would never submit to a lie detector test, would never swear on the Bible that it was telling the truth, and I often heard it mumbling things behind my back about my weight in metrics.
This is America. If you use the metric system here, I have to assume you are a spy.
I actually got so frustrated with my scale that I threw it out several months ago. It was a fancy digital one I’d had since I was married, so it’s not like the technology was up to date. Plus, I had a theory that my ex-wife had colluded with it to make it lie to me so that I was always insecure about my weight.
You know, because my ex didn’t want me to be happy, sane, or have the confidence to find someone else to love once she was gone.
I went old school and replaced that scale with one where the dial spun around to show you your weight in giant block numbers. I figured that by returning to the technology of my youth, when I was ridiculous thin and could be blown over by a strong breeze, would ensure that my weight was lower and more pleasing to my fragile ego.
Turns out that scale would never give me the same reading twice. I could get on it five times in a row, and each time, it would tell me I was a different weight. And the swing would be like twenty pounds.
So I just stopped weighing myself. And that was one of the major reasons why my weight ballooned so embarrassingly high over the winter.
Since I wasn’t weighing myself regularly, I just assumed I’d put on the usual ten or so pounds of winter weight. When I was asked to participate in the new fitness program at work, I decided to buy a new, much more accurate digital scale, so I could keep track of my progress.
Holy #$%^ was I surprised when I weighed myself on April 1! I’d never been that huge, and I thought I was going to have a (strictly dramatic) heart attack.
That weigh in was a real eye opener, and the driving force behind my strict and intense adherence to my new exercise program.
Believe me, Modern Philosophers, when the shock of seeing that out of control number finally wore off, my first thought was that this new scale was continuing the work of its predecessors and lying to me, too.
Then I thought about how I cringed every time I looked at myself in the mirror, how I had absolutely no confidence when it came to talking to women, and how I’d needed to buy some Fat Boy clothes over the winter because my wardrobe no longer fit.
I knew I was a fat, out of shape mess, and even though the scale did lie, it was the absolute truth that I needed to get serious about losing weight and getting back into shape.
Today was the start of Week Nine of my Quest To Find My Hopelessly Lost Inner Skinny Dude. I am running five days a week now and pushing myself to get in 15,000 steps a day, even though the program only requires 7,000 daily steps.
I started off my three day weekend with a five mile run this morning, and my fitness tracker tells me I’m at almost 19,000 steps for the day.
My self confidence is slowly returning, my heart has sent me several really sweet thank you notes, and I think I might need to make a run to the store this weekend to purchase some Fit Guy clothes.
Trust me, I still have a long way to go. I set a goal to lose 75 pounds, so I’m only a third of the way there, but we all know the first 25 pounds are the hardest to lose.
Now that my scale and I are bromancing it, I expect much better numbers in the coming weeks. The lower numbers it’s showing me are definitely inspiring me to run further, eat better, and keep believing in myself.
Life is too short to stay made at the scale forever. I’m glad we finally buried the hatchet before I literally buried a hatchet through its display.
Hope you find a little inspiration in all my perspiration!
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