You see, Baby Bod is a nefarious beast. I thought I'd be in the clear, because I looked good pregnant-- I never got the dreaded pregnant ass. Also, the weight came off pretty quickly, but then I quit breastfeeding. Insert scary music here. The beginning of the end. All of a sudden, I looked like I had recently won a lifetime supply of ho-hos and eaten them all at once. The suck thing is, it takes your body a good 9 months post-delivery to heal enough for strenuous exercise, maybe more (thanks a lot, 4th degree tear), and then you can't find time to exercise because you have a 9 month old! Them's sour grapes. But hey, you live and learn. Before I have the next one, I'm moving to a compound, growing out my armpit hair, and breastfeeding until the kid's old enough to play tee-ball.
Anyway, my new scale and I got off on the wrong foot. As a matter of fact, I relegated it to the closet almost immediately because it's a filthy liar. Friggin' smug digital display. I just want to jump on it, but can't bear to see the number go up-- even momentarily. However, it was the impetus I needed to jumpstart my junk food boycott and get off the couch. In the last week, I've lost 7 lbs. Just when I started to forgive my new scale (thanks to the numbers going in the right direction for a change), we had another run-in. I stubbed my toe on it, lifted the toenail up from the nailbed, and as the blood gushed out from underneath it, I cursed badly enough to make a sailor blush and loudly enough for the neighbors to hear. The worst part is, I can't run on it. So not only did my evil scale give me a zombie's toe; it killed my exercise for the week, which will likely put a damper on my weight loss. :( My Couch to 5K has temporarily reverted to the "couch" phase. Clearly my scale is determined to put me in a foul mood. Batteries-- only one of the ways that lithium is associated with scales!
No comments:
Post a Comment