As I have discussed here before, I do not own a scale. What I do own is Wii Fit and it’s companion, the Dirty Lying Balance Board. Earlier this year when we were actively striving to lose weight, I became accustomed to regular weighings on the balance board to track my progress. After I lost the weight and slowly fell back into my old habits of all-day-on-the-computer with all-evening-on-the-couch as a chaser, I stopped weighing myself. To be clear: I was actually too lazy to bother weighing myself. And anyway, everything still fit just fine, I was maintaining, so no biggie.
But then last week I swore to get more active, so I figured I’d better at least get a baseline, just so I could track any weight changes. Curiosity, you understand. And so I stepped on the Dirty Lying Balance Board…
… and it insisted that I’d gained five pounds. FIVE. POUNDS. Half the weight I’d lost! I may have invented some new words that day. None of them can be said in polite company.
Now, I was weighing myself during a heat wave, after a night when I’d had both wine and popcorn (alcohol and salt, yum), and my wedding ring was feeling a little tight. So I knew it was likely water weight. But still. Talk about a smack in my couch-potato face. I panicked.
I got myself back on the elliptical for the first time in months. I drank water all day long and paid a little more attention to what else I was putting in my mouth. And two days and about a gazillion pee-stops later (you’re welcome!) those supposed five pounds were gone, but it was a pretty good jump-start to getting back on the fitness train, I suppose.
So I rode the elliptical every other day and I walked my son to school, and slowly my muscles started remembering what it’s like to move.
And then yesterday I had a little bit of food poisoning, or maybe it was a bug? I don’t know, and I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that I did not walk my son to school today, given that traveling from the bed to my desk felt like a Herculean task, already. The last thing I want to do today is exercise. Yet part of me feels like, “Hey, back on the horse! Keep moving!” and the other part responds, “Shut up, I just need to lie down and maybe die.”
I’m thinking of cutting my brain a deal: nap now, walk later. That’s fair, right?