Like anyone battling the bulge I have a love/hate relationship with the bathroom scale. The fact that I’m back posting to this blog after months away shows that I’m still duking it out with my waistline.
I lost 50 pounds last year so the scale wasn’t my enemy all that often in 2011 but this year I’ve packed on a few extra pounds and I’ve been trying to get back into a good routine to lighten my load.
There’s clearly no better way to track my progress than by hopping on the scale but over the past few weeks the old thing started messing with me. My frustration peaked a couple of weeks ago when I got a 203+ pound reading before a shower and a reading close to 206 pounds right after I scrubbed myself down.
I didn’t drink every last drop of water in the shower so gaining almost 3 pounds in the span of about 10 or 15 minutes of bathing seemed totally absurd and mildly infuriating.
Now why in the world would the scale screw with my mind and emotions like that after everything we’d been through together? It wasn’t the first time I got such odd results in a small window of time but this was easily the wildest swing in weight I’d ever seen and the worst 1-week gain I’ve experienced in more than a year if the scale was to be believed.
Did the scale have any reason to hate me? I’ve been watching “Toy Story” with my 3-year-old son often enough over the past month to be open to humorously entertaining the idea that an inanimate object can have a heart, soul, and life of its own when we’re not looking.
If the scale had a secret existence along the lines of Buzz Lightyear or Woody then I guess it had plenty of reasons to hate me. Who wouldn’t hate being thrown on the floor and stepped on by a naked fat guy a couple of times a week? Who wouldn’t hate being resentfully glared at by the earlier-mentioned naked fat guy when you simply do your job as a bathroom scale and honestly tell him that he gained a little weight?
With that in mind, I guess I can see why the scale decided to start fighting back by attacking me with a disinformation campaign. Then again, why not shoot me straight with an accurate reading the first time I stepped up to do my weekly weight check and get it over with? A suspicious reading just makes me hop on the scale over and over, prolonging the scale’s misery and adding to the indignity of being trampled by a pale, naked Irish guy.
Anyone who knows me really well knows that I hate B.S. Don’t lie to me, don’t shine me on, don’t dodge me or tell me what you think I want to hear. Let’s just cut to the chase and speak in direct terms. In the long run it saves everyone a lot of time.
The more often the bathroom scale gave me an odd reading the more often I stepped on it to see if I could get a weight that made sense. I don’t mind gaining a little bit every now and then, it’s just a part of life, but when the scale tells me I packed on almost 4 pounds in a week even though I didn’t eat anything crazy and I walked about 5 miles a day I tend to get a little ticked off.
So in the end the inaccurate readings were too much to handle and it was finally time to part ways with the bathroom scale that was with me every step of the way as I dropped 50 pounds in 2011. Out with the old and in with the Homedics Bamboo Digital Scale.
We’re already off to a good start since the first time I hopped on the new Homedics scale in my birthday suit before my shower on Saturday morning it told me I lost a couple of pounds.
Music to my ears and hopefully the start of a long, healthy relationship.