I don't know a person who is not slightly concerned with weight. Some to the extreme and some hardly at all - but at certain times, there is no doubt that the subject enters your mind, no?
There have been times in my life where I could not care less about my weight (high school, surprisingly) and other times where it has completely consumed my every thought and action (freshman year of college - what a drag). I finally reached a point a few years ago where it has been merely a "healthy" concern. Aware about reaching my goal weight but not obsessed. Focusing on being healthy and not on becoming a size 2. Consuming more real foods rather than low fat, low calorie, low carb crap (I mean not to offend anyone whom this works for but rather rejoice for myself in the fact that I am no longer a slave to nutrition labels, hallelujah). Exercising not only for results but for pleasure. You get the gist. In all of these years, however, I have never reached that magic number. My "goal weight". I did not reach it before getting married. I did not reach it after 3 years of weight watchers. I did not even reach it while training for a 10k. Did not reach it...
Until now. Earlier this week, my scale decided to reveal those 3 numbers that, for whatever reason, I have had blinking in my head for the greater part of the past 10 years.
So, imagine my perplexity for a minute in the fact that upon seeing this magic number, there was no, well, magic. No stars. No bells. No streamers falling from the ceiling. No shout for joy. What's the deal? I've always pictured this day as a day of celebration. A day where I felt my fittest. My all time "skinniest". A star on the calendar. New outfits galore for a reward. At the very least, a little prance around the house. But nope. None of that. Sure, I smiled a half smile as I did a double take on the numbers that appeared, but the moment was gone in an instant. Seriously, no big deal. In fact, I'm fairly certain that I felt a bit pudgy from dinner the night before. And lord knows, I feel nowhere near trim and fit. In fact, I am ashamed that I have not worked out in months. Bleh. Yea, certainly not when I was expecting to see this "magic" number.
So, I suppose the real magic is just that. That it really doesn't matter what you weigh. It's how you feel. Who knew? I can now personally attest to the fact that it isn't about a number on the scale. And for that, I am satisfied. Okay and maybe just the tiniest bit annoyed. But satisfied nonetheless :)