Today I Was Reminded Why The Scale Isn't The End All, Be All
So about a month ago, I fell and a piece of vertebra cracked off and ended up jamming up against another vertebra below it. Ouch, I know.
Anyway, when my neurosurgeon signed off on my release, he told me I had to lose weight fast (I was at 435) because if I didn't I'd be hunched over in pain all the time in ten years. So I busted my ass - Keto + IF + CICO before my one-month visit with him. The first 10ish lbs came off pretty fast - again, I'm a big guy so it's easier for me than other people. But the next 6-8 pounds were taking forever to come off, just yo-yo'ing between the numbers.
So yesterday I got on my scale before my appointment and I was at 418 - which, hey, 17 lbs. That's crazy! I went in and they took my vitals, I was waiting patiently as they took my BP for them to see that I lost 17 lbs! So when I finally got on the scale, I was floored - I was down to 411, 24 fucking pounds in a month!
All that stress the past two and a half weeks was straight because I was relying on the scale daily to tell me how well I was doing. I didn't notice how my clothes fit better, or how my skin cleared up or a million other things that told me I was on the right track. So from now on, I'll just weigh myself twice a week and I'll see how much I lost when I go back to the doc in 3 months. It's kind of a relief, really, and helps me live in the now.
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from loseit - Lose the Fat https://ift.tt/2CzS2uR
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