A number is a powerful thing: simultaneously capable of either destroying and confirming your confidence in weeks or years worth of belief. In this sense, my weight is also a number, and that number is good.
For the last few weeks, I have been incapable of finding a scale. I have to admit, a part of me shied away from looking all too hard to find one. My first Thinspiration weigh-in was quite disappointing. I was confident that I had lost weight. But then I was weighed, I was measured, and I was found... not wanting. Not only had I not lost weight, but I had gained a pound. And this was after subtracting the weight of my wallet and other items in my pocket. That's right, I actually weighed them. And my confidence in my strategy and my chances in this competition were brought into doubt. All on account of a number.
The strange part was that there was other evidence of weight loss that should have been irrefutable: looser clothing, clear evidence of having ribs, and a general feeling of being very very hungry. But it wasn't enough to be sure I was actually succeeding. I still believe my initial weight, pre-competition, is falsely deflated, or rather dehydrated from a particular arid day within my body. Nonetheless, I found myself strangely nervous this past Sunday when together with Thorn and celestialspeedster, we discovered a scale.
The fact that this scale was in use for measuring the weight of furniture was not particularly confidence building. However, against all odds, I have lost weight. Approximately 9 lbs from my starting weight. Our measurements during the last competition have confirmed it. And I feel great!
Further, I am back home again, away from fatty restaurant food, and ready to crush my opposition! If only I can find the energy to get up... sooo hungry and weak...
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