Yesterday was my version of judgment day. I went 20 miles south of my home to see the dietitian and one of my most dreaded adjudicators – the scale. Whatever number that damn piece of technology displays on its narrow screen, determines my fate. If I am lucky enough to have gained, I know that I will be safe from the constant food criticism my parents plague me with at home. To my dismay, this week I wasn’t so fortunate. The scale revealed that I had lost weight . . . not an ounce . . . not a half a pound . . . but a whole damn pound.
I honestly was shocked. I thought I had been eating more. I thought I had been challenging myself. I guess I wasn’t doing enough. But that’s how it always seems to be . . .