I lay in bed this morning eyeing the bathroom door. I haven’t weighed myself in two weeks and today is the day.
I think through all my fabulous weight diminishing decisions. No mayo. No sweets. Lots of rabbit food. Work outs that make my muscles ache.
But what if it doesn’t show anything? I think.
But what if it does? I argue.
But what if it doesn’t?
I climb out of bed and walk into the bathroom. I look at my nemesis – shiny dastardly thing that’s given me more heartache then my teenage romances: first, second and third loves combined.
I prepare myself: go potty, drop the warm jammies, suck in my tummy and climb aboard.
I look again.
I’ve gained two pounds.
I climb off in a huff. Pull on my clothes in a huff. Glare at the dog, snap at my man, grumble at the ceiling—all in a huff.
Brian asks me what’s wrong. I tell him.
He loves me in just the right way.
“I think that scale is wrong, honey,” he says.
“It’s probably broken,” he adds.
“And remember love? You worked out hard yesterday. You probably bruised your legs and there’s a build up of water.”
“Your hair is longer. That stuff weighs more than you think.”
I love that man.
But I hate that scale.
Because this is usually the point when I give up.
See? It doesn’t even work! See? I’m doomed to be jiggly. Why fight it? Embrace those cute little fat cells, baby.
Then I think about this triathlon I committed to doing. And I look at how I ran my first 5K yesterday. My first 5K ever, and I ran the whole thing. And I look at the weight that I have lost—12 pounds total. So yes, I gained 2 in the last few weeks, but I’ve lost some too.
And I think of how God encouraged me even before I weighed in. Some lovely ladies in Tyler, Texas presented me with a plaque after my speaking engagement this weekend. It was a framed verse: “Nothing is impossible with God.”
Nothing. Not even losing weight and toning up and doing a triathlon for the very first time at 43 years old.
So I’m not giving up.
I’m not giving in
I might throw my scale out the window, and laugh uproariously as it smashes into a gazillion evil pieces, but I will not give up.
So you don’t either, okay? Whatever fight you’re fighting today. Don’t give up. Tell yourself the same thing I’m speaking to my own brain: Success is a whole slew of small steps in the same direction—so just keep stepping – no matter what.
Amen and amen.