For almost 18 months now, I have been able to not weigh, measure, or pinch my fatness.
I have become a rabid measurerer of the things I can control. I do 2 miles of walking per day. Have my portions sizes constrained by my hand size and I reach for 5 meals per day. EODF is a one-week-on two-weeks-off type of thing.
I dread seeing the scales. My pants are looser, I’ve had people notice I’m thinner too. But I am adamate about not knowing what my BMI or my waist circumfrence, or my body fat percentage actually is.
I’ll probably note these numbers when I’m out of the phobia range.
I’m thinking I’ll get down to my “healthy” weight, and then enjoy a discovery bash with close friends as I weigh-in to see what weight and circumfrance and body fat percentage I happen to be when I feel like I’ve arrived at my desired health level, rather than the other way around.
It has always baffled me that we start a diet by saying EXACTLY how much we SHOULD weigh, when in actuality, given the body’s aging processes and hormone fluxuations, we have no idea. Best to feel great and then find out what numbers that happens to be, than to force fit ourselves into numbers picked out of a hat.
Filed under: motivation
