Drop a heart if you hate the scale.
If I could drop a million hearts, I would. I HATE the scale; I know I talk about my hatred often. But, honestly, I don’t think I mention it enough because time after flipping time, people tell me weight goals and not fitness goals.
Fitness trumps weight any day!
Before football season started for my son, my husband was on a mission to have him gain 30 pounds. He put on 30 healthy pounds with top cuts of meat, protein, and lots of meal prep done by yours truly. We purchased a second refrigerator so we could store all of his healthy goodies. We became OBSESSED with weighing him. Cheers would erupt when he put on a few pounds. When he finally hit the 30-pound mark, my husband booked a dinner at Fogo de Chao Brazillian Steakhouse.
The waiters constantly bring our the best cuts of meat that are flavored for the Gods. All of their sides are cooked to perfection and leave you dreaming about them for days on in.
My son’s eyeballs popped out his head when he took his first bite of the juicy steak. And judging by the look on his face, I knew it was going to be a long while before he flipped over the card the restaurant gives you. One side is green, and it means give me MORE. The other side is red, which stands for STOP.
With jealous eyes, I glared at my son.
If only I could be rewarded for moving up two sizes or so in my clothes. Now that I can do it quite easily. All I have to do is skip my workouts for a few weeks and eat as though I belong on the D-Line (football). EASY!
Last night I told my son to step on the scale, and he smiled when the number read 260. So I thought, okay, maybe I’ll try this thing out as well. So I stepped on very lightly because I believe that helps: right? NO!
If you said no, then you’re right.
Next time I’ll step on lightly, and maybe just maybe, I’ll throw in a sassy pose and wait for my reading.
You could have chosen any blog to read, but you chose mine, and I’m honored!