So it’s Monday evening. I didn’t weigh in this morning because my day started off fast and furious. But I didn’t forget that it’s time for my reckoning.
I don’t want to particularly face the scale for fear that the number will tell the truth that I’m not ready to see. But I owe it to myself. Because that which is not measured is not managed.
That’s not to say that the scale is the only weigh to measure, there’s the fit of the clothes, there’s the mirror, there’s… But it’s the most objective way to weigh the fruits of your efforts.
So I’m leaving the typing of this post to bring out the scale for my moment of management.
Okay – so it’s Day 1 again. Back up to 243.0. Well, not quite Day 1, but close enough. It’s amazing how hard work and sacrifice can be obliterated so easily. I doubt that the false pleasure that I gained (wasn’t truly enjoying the food that I was eating because I knew I was breaking my word, my promise to myself) was worth what it cost me.
If nothing else, it’s just one more cautionary tale that I can recite to myself the next time I think I can hastily break my own rules. Or maybe it’ll remind me that making highly-restrictive rules is a way to try to gain balance and health in one’s life.
I’ve decided. Unrealistic expectations are the killer of motivation and momentum. Draconian rules and harsh limitations and extremes on either side… don’t seem to coincide profitably or healthily with achieving balance and health and stability.