Our thumbs are basically numb from texting back and forth 24/7 about everything we love (AND HATE) that's happening on our televisions, iPads, and eye glasses (hi, we think we're funny) and we thought WHY NOT SHARE THIS JOY WITH THE WORLD?!  



But How Many Stone Am I?

I’ve had my current scale for about a decade, I think. I bought it because it was super slim and I thought I could slide it between a few things in my bathroom and it could hide a bit, but still be accessible. Turned out the first instructions I read were to never ever (ever ever) put it on its side or else it would die or burst into flames or something. At the very least it likely wouldn’t work right and we all know that having a scale be MAD at you is a big problem, so I kept it flat and set it under a big pile of towels in the linen closet.

I promptly forgot I had ever bought a scale.

Raise the curtain on the present day, two moves and one time zone later, and I’ve gained a lot of weight. I’m not blaming the scale, per se, but let’s just say I was shocked (SHOCKED) about a year ago when none of my pants fit. NONE.

Two months ago (yes, I stayed in denial for about 10 months, what about it?), I began a new weight loss scheme plan with Noom. You might have seen them everywhere lately advertising on your Instagram feed or whathaveyou. It’s not bad. It’s got articles about not eating your feelings and doesn’t demonize bread and I don’t have to figure out how many arbitrary points a food is before I shove it down my throat.
But it does ask that you weigh yourself daily. DAILY.

Now, you can weigh whenever. Pre-coffee, post-poop, pre-shower….whenever. You can do it multiple times if you like. But you’re supposed to get it done daily. I think the idea is that A: you realize how crazy bananas your weight fluctuates throughout the day/week/month (and it does) and B: you kind of get over that number? At least I hope so.

I’m not really over my number yet. Two months in and I’m still the absolute heaviest I’ve been. I’m about 5 pounds lighter than where I started, and that’s great (especially post-Thanksgiving, vacation, and Christmas), but I’ll be happier in about 10-15 more pounds, and my ultimate goal is about 50 pounds down. (We could get into a whole “how did it get this bad” thing, but that’s not really the story here.)

So until today, I’d jump on my old scale daily. I step on it, I step off, I step on it, and step off. I get about three different weights every morning and then I write down the one that was the lowest. It’s wildly inaccurate and a game I wasn’t enjoying playing.

So I got this new scale.

It is...fancy.

It’s by Renpho (a brand I know nothing about, but they apparently also make app-connected oil diffusers) and it has bluetooth connectivity and you stand on it and it tells you everything about yourself. Your weight, your body fat, your BMI. It reads all this with some electrical hoopajoop and it beams it to an app you have to download in advance and then it can tell other apps all about you and then yadda yadda yadda you never leave the house again.

No, it’s really OK. I got this scale (which wasn’t really even that expensive -- check it on Amazon) and I’m going to weigh myself every day. It’ll tell me that I’m up or down. That I’ve got this much “body water” (which, this week, is probably a LOT -- if you catch my drift), so much “skeletal muscle” and so much “muscle mass”.

It also reads my “fat-free body weight” which I’m assuming includes the eight pounds that the human head weighs, my percentage of “subcutaneous fat” which I think will help me survive these brutal Montana winters (sunnier and dryer than Chicago but still...woof), and my amount of “visceral fat” which sounds a lot like something snarky that a courtier would say behind a well-placed fan.

I’m going to step on this black shiny scale, which looks a LOT like the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey and which may or may not be “full of stars” and try not to think about how I got here or how this thing knows so much about me with some little electrical impulses. I’ll try to not think that I shouldn’t have eaten that piece of bread or should (or shouldn’t) have had that big cup of water in the middle of the night.

I’ll try to realize that we’re all just the sum of a heck of a lot of parts. And I’m just trying to fit in some pants come spring. I’ll let you know how it’s going.