Stepping On, Moving On

Got home last night, ate a small, sensible dinner and started the unpacking process. I have very mixed feelings about all of that. I very much enjoy being home with my family. My parents are now my friends, so I get a kick out of being a guest in their house. But at the same time, it's nice to be in my own space and not mooching off their good natures anymore. Plus, I am remodeling my basement over January, and I'm excited to get going on that. Yay!

Anyway. Having been gone for nearly two weeks means I haven't had access to my scale. Some people would say that's liberating and it's bad for one's health to weigh one's self every day. But I say they are wrong. I like weighing myself every morning. For me, it's just a nice, regular reminder of where I am and how far I've come. If my number goes up, I just think about what caused it and move on, knowing it will even out again so long as I'm good most days and bad only a few days per week.  Typically I can contribute a gain to water or...solid...retention issues. Ha! Weighing doesn't feel like an obsession to me. It's just a daily marker.

Not having that for two weeks was, I admit, a little unnerving. I had no idea how much damage all those cookies and other sweets were doing. I couldn't tell whether I was going to come home up two pounds or five. I felt like my jeans were a little tighter, but I also know I have a tendency toward paranoia. But as I posted before, I decided just to roll with it and enjoy myself. I was willing to pay the consequences and re-regulate when I got home.

Well. This morning was The Day. Accountability Day. I got up, peed (hey--that's extra weight!), took off my pajamas, and stepped on. Deep breath.  Look down. Tada!! I was up 1.5 pounds. That's NOTHING! Considering how frequently naughty I was, that is NOTHING.  And then, my scale measures water weight, and it said I'm 65% water. I'm usually around 56-58%. I'm sure it's probably not terribly accurate, but there's always a shift in the percentage when I've had too much wine or haven't had enough water, so I figure it's a decent rough guide to where I am. If that's the case, that means I'm probably up 1.5 pounds just in water. If I'm good about drinking water this week, I have a feeling I'll be no worse for the wear after the two weeks' indulgence.

How awesome is that? The risk, of course, is that I'll start more frequently justifying madness because I didn't have much damage, but I don't think that's a major concern. I'm actually excited to return to healthy eating this week. I'm already planning to go to the grocery store to buy fruit and vegetables. Hurrah!