Losing 100 pounds was a huge victory for me. Something I never thought I would ever do. Something I certainly did not set out expecting to do. But, I did.
But when the scale read 202 pounds, a little voice started ringing in my head…
Think that will ever read in the hundreds?
It’s funny but I don’t have many recollections of weighing under 200 pounds. I seriously don’t. For as long as I can remember, I weighed somewhere in the 200’s. I can remember being in junior high or early high school and crossing the threshold into the 200 pound mark. At that point in my I felt like a complete failure, as all my friends were weighing in the 130’s.
Little did I know that I would grow even more from when that scale first read 200.
So, my new goal was set…get in the 100’s.
I didn’t care if the scale read 199, I just wanted in the hundreds.
Of course, as my “luck” would have it, when I lost 100 pounds I hit my first major plateau. Before then I was losing weight at about 4-5 pounds a week. Once I hit 100, it stopped on a dime. I could not for the life of me lose any more weight.
I have never been a person who was a slave to the scale. In fact, for the first 100 pound loss I only weighed myself once every month. But I suddenly became obsessed with weighing myself.
I weigh myself on an old fashioned scale in the Y dressing room. So my routine was simple. I’d come in. Set the scale to 200 and step on. If the little edge flew up to the top I knew I hadn’t hit in the 100’s. I never looked to see where I was at above 200, I just knew I hadn’t hit my goal.
I did that same routine for about 2 weeks. Each time I got more upset. This plateau was killing me. And I was going against my norm and becoming a slave to the scale.I tried to lie to myself and say it didn’t matter. I tried to not be so obsessed about it. But I couldn’t help it. I was so close, yet I couldn’t get there.
Last Saturday, I was at the Y and I went to do my normal routine. It had been a week since I had been on the scale I was beginning to dread.
I set it at 200 and stepped on.
And to my surprise, the indicator stayed down.
I moved the large block to the 150 (something I never thought I’d ever do) and quickly moved the top arrow all the way to the right side (199).
Indicator stayed down.
Indicator stayed down.
196 pounds. That number may sound high to you, but to me, that number was golden. I had broken through the plateau and gotten into the 100’s. I had reached my goal.
I started crying.
I didn’t even really know why, but I started crying. I didn’t cry when I hit 100 pound lost. This was 106 pound lost, so not a huge change, and here I was crying.
I was skinnier than I ever remembered.
I quickly texted my “go to friends”. The ones that have been really supportive of my journey. I wanted to tell someone. I had to tell someone.
This victory meant more to me than anything I had accomplished to date.
I now have not been on the scale since that day, and I’m going to go back to refusing to weigh myself but once a month. I don’t want to become a slave to that number. I didn’t like how I was obsessing more about that number and less about how I was actually feeling.
And that, my friends, was the day I cried in a Y bathroom!