But In all seriousness numbers, pictures, skinfolds,
callipers, dexa scans, clothes and opinions are all just ways of measuring success
or failure for a lot of people. In my humble opinion, they are seldom used as a
useful tool – more as a black and white measure of perceived good or bad
results…if we’re being entirely honest. Here’s my shining example;
It’s a beautiful sparkling Monday morning. The birds are
chirping, the sun is high in the sky, the kids aren’t fighting and I’ve got
frozen blueberries to add to my porridge for breakfast. Does life get any
better? “So let’s track my awesome and outstanding progress!!!” I foolishly
think. I carry on giving myself a little more kudos in the privacy of my own
bedroom “I feel strong as an ox and healthy as a horse. I’m hitting all of my
gym goals and lifting heavier than ever. I’m smashing it!! You go girl!!” Insert
a couple of selfie hi-5’s and a little side-on smirk at the mirror with a “hey –
how you doin?!”
And then I decide to stand on the scales.
In a flickety-flash my internal record has changed. It’s not
good. It’s not printable. But it goes something like this;
“Oh for bleep’s
sake!!! Bleepity bleep bleep bleep!!!
That’s not bleepity fair!!! For bleeps bleeping sake!!! BLEEP you!!!!”
So what actually changed between the kudos and the crap?
Nothing.
Nudda.
Naught.
Zero.
N..O..T..H..I..N..G…
Nothing changed.
Not a single thing.
My weight didn’t change.
My strength didn’t change.
My health didn’t change.
All the happened was one single thing.
I looked at a number.
Can you see just how mental that is????? The number didn’t
change a thing about me and, not two seconds prior, I was gloriously happy with
how I was going. And then I wasn’t. A sane mind can hardly process how stupid
that is.
And then the kids start fighting, the house gets trashed, the
porridge explodes in the microwave, I burn my friggin tongue on the half
frozen/half burnt blueberries, we get out the door late and I’m yelling so loud
it’s echoing down the street. I get to work and growl at nice people. The photocopier
jams up and every stupid person in the world makes a beeline straight to me. I
decide that I might as well give in to this shit day and decide to have a
peanut butter sandwich. Holy hell – why not have 2? Let’s skip the bread – it’s
only the carrier for the peanut butter anyway. Let’s go straight in with a
spoon. Tastes just a tad better with a dollop of strawberry jam. Suddenly it’s spoonfuls
of peanut butter and jam and we’re going at it with reckless abandon! I hang my
head in shame when the jar is all-but empty. The only problem is that I’m now ‘sweeted
out’ and need something savoury. Like cheese!!! MELTED CHEESE!!!! I need a
carrier. Let’s go rice crackers and zap in the microwave for 20 seconds!! Chewy
rice crackers and masses of melted cheese!! Oh my hat!! Too good for words!!!
Half a packet and half a kilo later and I’m all savoury’d out. Just a sweet
little treat to finish off. But I’m as dry as a lizard in the sun so a quick
choccy milk will make it all better – said everyone. Always.
You get the picture hey? A full blown, god almighty feeding
frenzy for one. It’s like a train wreck or an out of control snow ball. It
comes at me and builds momentum and gathers strength until the crash inevitably
occurs. And then I hang my head and wonder what the hell just happened?!! The
shame is super overwhelming and I feel like I’m the only one on planet earth
who does this awful thing. I’m certain no one would understand my stupidity and
I’m far too ashamed to tell anyone. Not only do I feel physically sick, but I
can’t think straight for the self-loathing and anger. The light at the end of
the tunnel is well and truly snuffed out.
Sadly I lived this way for years. And years.
The only reason I attempt to help others is because I’ve been
there and I know how it feels and I’ve come out the other side. Better than
ever.
So the good news is that nowadays I do it differently. Many
years ago I made some huge decisions, along with getting the help I needed to
change. I decided to nurture my body and to stop cursing it. To thank it for
what it’s done and doing and going to do, rather than bad-mouthing the fact
that it doesn’t reach perfection.
But these are just mere words. How about an example? Bodybuilding
came about ten years after I had faced my food and weight demons. I most
certainly couldn’t have coped with anything before that – I needed those years to
consolidate my life and to keep learning, and ultimately believing, that I could
do it differently.
Nevertheless, when I turned my hand to this ‘hobby’ (full on
obsession at first!!!), it threatened to waken the demons and revisit me. I
couldn’t have that. I would rather take up knitting as a hobby than to go
backwards into that world that I had firmly shut the door on. But I had to acknowledge
my past and ensure that I was not destined to repeat it.
Hence my fear of ‘The Power of the Scales’.
So here’s how I personally have tackled it. My real life
example for 2014;
1.
Always
have my eye on the goal;
a. First and foremost goal – increase muscle
b. Secondly, remain as healthy as I possibly
can while hunting down my goal.
2.
Decide
on the way to go about it;
a. Eat more – more good food, less shit
and more regularly.
b. Train hard – harder than I’ve ever trained
before. No excuses, no laziness, no taking eyes off goal.
c. Focus on health – HUGE part of this
goal is learning and practising healthy ways to achieve my goal.
3.
Accept
the issues that arise from #2;
a. I am very happily a female. To put on
muscle means inevitably putting on some body fat with it. I don’t need to blow
up like a balloon but I do need to be in excess so I will be gaining not losing size.
b. I need to eat food regularly. For fuel,
not necessarily for fun (though I’m the world’s biggest piglet and pretty much
all food is tops with me!).
a. I know what my weight was the day
before my last competition as I had to weigh in for my division. Believe it or
not – I have not set foot on a scale since then, and that was June 2013. I don’t
do well with numbers so I don’t do them until it is necessary – in my case
during comp prep at about 12 weeks out from the big day.
Yes, I
realise that weighing is a good tracking tool however it’s isn’t a good tool
for Kirsten. I know her quite well these days she doesn’t do well with scale
numbers. So I track with photos and they are as clear as a bell to me in what
is needed and what is going great. I also have a fabulous and honest husband
whose opinion is one that I value immensely. Maybe I use him as my scales!!
b. I do not pore over photos of super
lean, muscly women. I admire the ones I see, I strive to be like some of them –
but I do not sit there obsessing over what they have, how lean they are, how
gorgeous they look and why I aren’t anywhere near them. That would be like
grabbing the latest vogue magazine and crying at how little I look like the
cover model. Laughable.
c. I do not enter into random conversations
about my weight with just anyone. I do not allow negative and ill-informed
opinions into my sphere of life. Ever noticed how dangerous those conversations
can get? For all concerned?
d. And lastly, I try very hard not to
let the whole thing run my life. I fail at this some days. Sure it’s a hugely
important part of my life but these days it ticks along just nicely without
much fuss. I am hugely grateful for having a job that I love, a family that I
adore and a house that needs cleaning constantly!!!!
2014 is definitely the year of the No-Scales and I’m loving
every minute of it!
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