Yesterday I had my annual Dr. appt, which is truly my FAVORITE time of every year (note sarcasm). There are a lot of dreaded parts to this visit (if you are woman, you understand. You if you a man, keep coughing.) but one of the first is stepping on the scale.
And even though I tell myself that my weight doesn’t bother me – it does. That damn freaking number. It gets into my brain and stirs the pot and then whispers slanderous nothings into my ear. Stupid bitch.
In case you were wondering, according to Dr. B’s scale – I have gained weight. I’m up about 10lbs from my last appoint (15 months ago). Do I blame running? No. Do I blame excessive eating? No. Do I blame weight lifting — hopefully a little!
What do I REALLY blame?
Yeah. That’s right.
Am I going to rush out and try to lose 10lbs? Umm no.
That would make me a very cranky runner, wife, co-worker, and mom. I love running, I love eating, and I LOVE my wine.
Thankfully, I got a clean bill of health and there were no comments about my weight gain, because that would be DUMB. I’m doing my best to silence the voice. She’s there, but I’m taking her down. Maybe with margaritas?
So, as always, everything in moderation…carry on.
Do you let the scale bother you?? What’s your favorite splurge?