15 October 2013
It was a bit of a surprise, to be honest. Looking back at the chart, since around the beginning of August, at least from the 10th, my weight has remained amazingly stable at 53.5kg (that's just mapping the Saturdays when it gets recorded, once weekly). But this wonderfully stable record, of which I was probably unjustly proud, took a knock...
Hmmm, you know what they say about pride!
So, this Saturday the needle on the scales was up half a kilo to 54kg. Not a lot I know, but I wasn't a happy bunny about it. However the logical part of me talked me down (as ever), telling me that it is understandable since differences in dietary salt intake and water intake will inevitably lead to the odd variation. Indeed, by Sunday morning it was back down again to 53.5kg but, of course, that bit doesn't get recorded.
And my point here?
Well, I've learned something about myself once again. It's amazing how truly crappy a small rise (one that I had to write down) made me feel. I'd sort of forgotten the immediate and very visceral reaction I have to seeing a gain in weight and having to be 'honest' and commit that to paper (well, to an Excel file). I have to confess that it put me in a real grump for a while.
Funny enough, if and when I've weighed during the week and seen a rise (even a more substantial blip) it hasn't affected me anywhere near as much as Saturday's incident. Usually, I growl for a moment, review what I've been doing, realise I'm being too obsessive and move on. Generally, when I weigh again another day, the 'problem' has disappeared - just as it did this time.
But... there was a difference. There's obviously something important (subconsciously?) about the act of recording it that's critical here.
Ho hum. However long I continue along this 'weight' journey, and however well I think I now know myself and think I can predict my likely reactions to a given situation, there's still something new to learn. Interesting, eh?