Scales

Scales have become a major source of frustration as I proceed through the Fall Fitness Challenge, especially on Monday mornings when I absolutely know I'm weighing in heavier than I really am for the weekly official tally.


The standing balance scale (like the one in your doctor's office) in the fitness club men's locker room said I was 2 lbs down yesterday AM (with shoes on!) and then I step on the glass bathroom scale with no shoes for the official weigh-in moments later and it says I'm barely down a pound. What's up with that?


Then I try the standing scale again this evening (in shoes again!) and it says I'm down 5 lbs from yesterday. Seriously? I doubt I sweated off all those pounds in my spin class this evening.


I like the men's locker room scale. It's my friend. According to its oracular pronouncement this evening, I've dropped 36 pounds since this sweaty adventure began in early August. And really, the only practical measure I'm really noticing right now is that I just had to have a link taken out of my watchband because it kept falling down around my hand, a jeweler added a "ring guard" to keep my wedding ring from sliding off my now-thinner finger and into the green bean bin at the supermarket, and I've retired every pair of pants in my closet because they were falling off. Pleasantly, the new ones I bought a week ago are already feeling a touch loose, too. Well, those factors and the fact that it feels really good when people come up to me and say "wow, you look great!" and they're not just being polite.


Take that, you freaky bathroom scale!