Since starting this blogging venture I have lost a total of 2 kgs. Up until today I have been disappointed with this number. Despite many many clinical trials showing that a loss of 12kgs per year is considered the healthy norm, those figures first burnt into my brain as a teen have prevailed. I remember getting a fabulous Nutrimetics meal replacement program as a young lass and being very pleased to note that weight loss should be experienced at a rate of 1-1.5kgs per week. Damn those shakes were nasty, who's brilliant idea was that crap anyway? Not that the repulsiveness stopped me, I went on to try Herbalife, yurck, twice, blerch.
1-1.5kgs per week, I thought to myself, "I'm a good girl, I try really hard at everything I do, I can like totally do this, I might even lose more weight, cos like, I'm above average at school and stuff". Surprise, surprise, it didn't work out that way, and I was left feeling a little like a failure. This malarkey has stuck with me for a long time, much to my surprise today, this very lucid sane day.
When I first read the 12kg/year statistics, I was majorly pissed off, not unlike the time The Ninja showed me how much an image of a model is Photoshopped to try and make me feel better. I was pissed because I felt let down, "What do you meeeean?? I can't ever look like that/lose that much weight? Am I doomed to a life of mediocrity and normalness just like everyone else???" It was akin to being told Santa didn't exist, my world crumbled down around my ears and I clutched onto my inspiration pic of Jessica Alba in a bikini sobbing like a toddler in the corner.
Today I don't feel quite so deluded, it may have something to do with my recent visit to the Norman Lindsay Gallery, seeing all those round, erotic, sexy, ladies getting their fancy on in the paintings left me feeling, well, happily, voluptuously, normal.
Today, this wonderfully sane day, I noticed something about weighing myself. Weigh day is fraught with anxiety and anticipation. I've been weighing myself with the Wii. In order to do so you must create a character, a Mii, and the little dudette grows to fit your measurements, needless to say my Mii is a little on the portly side. Each week I am greeted with an "oh no too high", my Mii hangs her head in shame, and the words OBESE flash up on the screen. WTF? How could I have not realised how sick that is? Step away from the scales lady, step away from the scales.
Now in comes the almighty tape measurements. An activity that may well have been introduced to me during the delightful meal replacement drink days. Since starting this blog I've lost a total of 21cms. That's double figures, a much more pleasing concept. I have oft toyed with idea of only doing measurements and that has now officially become January's challenge. No more scales. Even as I type this I feel my heartbeat quicken and my palms become clammy. Doesn't weighing myself equal control? How on earth will I know what's going on if I don't know how much I weigh? Will I fall off the wagon and stop caring if I'm not confronted with that scary number each week? Why even invent such a ridiculous challenge?
Have no fear, I say, the tape measure has been a much kinder friend for all these years and I never realised, kind of like that quiet guy at school who is really nice and funny and turns out to be the greatest thing that ever happens to you. Let's just hope good ole tape measure and I can stay buddies over Christmas :)
"Any measurement must take into account the position of the observer. There is no such thing as measurement absolute, there is only measurement relative"