Scaling Down

          You awaken to a beautiful morning.  The sky is blue, the birds are singing, and all is right with the world.  You stretch and rise from your bed, padding softly toward the bathroom, and suddenly you have that undeniably spooky feeling that you’re being watched.  You look up and, sure enough, there it is lurking in the corner.  It’s evil, sinister, and waiting for you -- THE BATHROOM SCALE!!  Run!  Run while you still can!  Save yourself!

          Okay, people, let’s take a couple of nice cleansing breaths -- in with the good and out with the bad -- and collect ourselves.  Now then.  Here’s what I want you to do.  Go back into the bathroom and pick up that scale from hell and PITCH IT IN THE TRASH.  Go on, I’ll wait right here . . . dum dee dum dum.  Did you do it?  No, of course you didn’t.  I have yet to convince a single client to throw the wretched thing out, but consider this:  If you are a regular and faithful weigher, chances are that most mornings you ease yourself slowly up onto that judgmental torture box with your eyes closed, lean slightly to the left (because that’s your lighter side), and toss up a silent prayer to the Gods of Skinny before opening your eyes, looking down, and cursing.  Am I right?  How often do you read that number and do cartwheels of joy?  Why on earth would you want to keep putting yourself through that? 

         In addition, please keep in mind that the daggone thing doesn’t know the difference between fat, muscle, water, or hair product.  It just throws a number in your face that doesn’t reflect the fact that you might have eaten something salty the night before, which has caused you to retain extra water, or that you may have gained a little muscle as a result of your newfound love for weight training.  The scale just adds it all up and lays the end result on you without so much as an apology or a by-your-leave.  There must be a better way.  

          Here’s a thought:  Instead of weighing, get yourself a handy dandy tape measure, wrap it around each of your important parts, and write those measurements down.  Then, pick a pair of jeans that are a little snug, or pathetically snug, or -- who are we kidding? -- that you can’t get past your knees.  Hang them in a conspicuous place in your closet so you have to look at them every morning.  In two weeks, take all those measurements again and see if you can get those jeans any closer to the promised land.  If you’ve been following a realistic nutritional program and getting enough of the right kind of exercise, chances are very good that you’re going to see some satisfying results.  Keep charting your progress every two weeks.  In a couple of months, if you’re getting results and IF YOU ABSOLUTELY MUST, climb back on that scale, but please do not call me if you don’t see a drastic change.  And that alone should prove something -- if your measurements are going down and those consciousness-raising jeans are fitting better even though the scale isn’t budging, THROW OUT THAT GODFORSAKEN SCALE and consider this new way of charting your progress as you embark on your summer fitness program.  Good luck!