So, I'm pretty steadfast that I don't care about my weight. I care about what I eat, certainly, and I care about how much I work out. The vain side of me does care about what I look like (both with clothes on and naked), but weight, well, I don't give a shit, it's just a number. I made a promise to myself that the only number I'd care about at the doctor's office would be my blood pressure.
Ignoring one's weight at the doctor's office is actually more difficult than it would seem, however. Fortunately, I've explained my plight to several of the nurses at my primary care physician. They need to take my weight every time I go in, and that's fine. I close my eyes & they shut up about it. They're happy, I'm happy.
Well, all was happy until I was completing the latest round of paperwork for the adoption. Part of the adoption process is showing that not only would you be able to care for the child, but that there's no reason why you wouldn't around for awhile in taking care of the child. It makes sense that a child-care agency would have misgivings about allowing somebody to adopt a child if you have some condition that would have you either in & out of the hospital or with a limited time to live.
So, I had to have a form filled out & signed by my doctor -- no biggie. I haven't been for a physical in awhile, but I'm a klutz who gets sore throats & headaches and I've gone in for random things over the past year. Basically, the doc said "John shows no signs of passing away early. kthxbai", but the top of the form had a whole bunch of numbers. One of them was my weight at some random visit. I looked, it was 271 pounds.
I've been wrestling with this number since seeing it. My doctor says I'm healthy. The BMI chart, though, which I hate with a passion, has me firmly in the "obese" range. I know, when I look in a mirror, that I have some fat around the middle that I'd like to get rid of - but I think I rank somewhere between "average" and "handsome". It's possible that this measurement was taken in the middle of the winter, just as I was starting to run and that the number would be markedly smaller if taken today. For all I know, I was wearing jeans & my winter coat, had my pockets full of change, keys, cell phones, and my utility knife. No matter how much that 271 may be invalid now, it's still haunting me; it shouldn't.
Now the question is, what do I do about it? I'm tempted to weigh myself right now, just so that I'm not working off of old data - but that just simply flies in the face of my entire approach. I should simply forget that I saw the number, but do you know how hard it is to forget something intentionally?
Since seeing that big fat 271 on paper, nothing really has changed - though I've taken more care to go to bed early to get my morning workouts in (shoulder still bugging me, so it's just been running, though I plan to get at least one good bike ride in this coming weekend, and my situps & pushups will resume once I can raise my left hand without cringing).
On top of my knowing what my weight was at some point in the recent past, some of the people that I follow on Twitter have been posting that they're looking to lose X, or lost Y.... and if that works for them, it works for them. Me? I'm still trying really, really hard to not care what that scale reads. It just sucks knowing what it once read & not liking that number.