So this post popped up on my Facebook feed today Mama Lion Strong and it got me thinking, I am addicted to weighing myself. Somehow I have got in to a habit of weighing myself every day, sometimes multiple times a day in the hope that the scales might tell me something different. Which is absolutely ridiculous.
I know it is ridiculous. I am a reasonably (I like to think) intelligent woman. I know all about weight fluctuations due to water retention, time of day, whether you’ve had a poo or not (come on, who doesn’t make sure they’ve had a poo before they jump on the scales). I know that muscle is denser than fat. I know all that. At the risk of sounding slightly insane I have even weighed myself after I’ve had my hair cut, I MEAN COME ON!!!!!!
But for some reason, despite knowing this I am still addicted to seeing the numbers, and feeling ecstatic when they have gone down and stupidly depressed if they’ve gone up (even if I know I’ve eaten 10 billion different kinds of crap etc)
So today I am making a pledge, not to step on my scales until I need to send my measurements once a month to my PT.
It is time to break the cycle.