Lying Scales & Mental Roadblocks

So, with the holidays now firmly planted in the 'Ghosts of Christmas Past' category, I decided that it was high time that I jumped back into my regular workout and dieting routine.  Don't get me wrong, I didn't stray too far from the course, but did allow myself to stop counting Weight Watchers points from about Thanksgiving to New Year's, while still watching what I ate.  And by watching, I mean, looking at my hand as I put it in my mouth.  I didn't go too crazy and amazingly didn't gain any weight (technically... we'll get to that) but I splurged on a Reese's Christmas Tree or gingerbread man ocassionally.  And by ocassionally, I mean...

Through Christmas (and the last time I blogged... I'm such a slacker), I kept at my regular training sessions and continued my cardio routine, but surprisingly noticed a serious difference in my weight loss attempts.  It could very well be all to do with the fact that I wasn't counting points, but I think my training for the 5K wasn't working the miracles that the stairclimber was previously.  I started paying more attention to the scale to see if that could possibly be true.  I even got frustrated enough to consider a pretty strict body-building diet on recommendation from my trainer who is entering an online contest to win $100,000 for body transformation in twelve weeks.  I'd happily judge him and give him $100,000.  I digress.

In my pursuits of determining the reason behind my sudden plateau, I started using various scales (partly to find one that gave me the results I was looking for).  While working out with my brother-in-law in my hometown, I got on one of those old fashioned ones that you have to slide the weights across until it balances  (you know... the one that you stand there praying to sweet, baby Jesus you don't have to push that second giant weight over and that if you do, you can somehow manage to use your monumental size to block it from the view of others.  Yeah... I've never done that.  Ever.).  I stood there is shock and awe.  "Can these things be wrong?," I asked my brother-in-law.  "Yeah," he replied, "but they're more accurate than most."  Dear God.  I've been duped.  Conned into believing the inaccuracies and downright lies of the gym scale. 

Friends... this is a hard pill to swallow. After comparing the various scales in multiple locations, I have come to the conclusion that I have been misquoting my actual weight loss.  By ten freaking pounds.  (Hangs head.  Wipes away a tear.)  And it's weird... although I haven't actually gained weigh. I'm the same weight I was with a correct scale or an incorrect scale, but it feels like I've lost ground.  Kind of like I've back-tracked.

But, it just proves how much of a mental game this weight loss thing really is.  Even though I wasn't actually losing as much weight as I thought I was, it kicked my butt into high gear when I thought the pounds were melting off of me.  Once I started feeling the plateau, I got discouraged, stopped paying attention and stopped losing weight.  I recently learned this lesson in the gym too.

Yup... I'm going to look like her.  Just wait...

While my brother-in-law and I were working out over my Christmas vacation, we were doing shoulder presses at an insanely high weight.  I kept backing off the weight and eventually got down to the lightest amount.  Still pushing beyond belief, I just took the pin out and cranked out the last ten reps like a pro.  He stood by watching and as soon as I finished, he said "You know you just psyched yourself into finishing those, right?"  He explained that taking the pin out made absolutely no difference in the weight; I just thought it was lighter because I didn't know any better.  Silly, girl.  Same thing happened with my trainer last night (before I almost killed him... note to gym-goers.  If your trainer or gym buddy sets a dumbbell on its end on one of those rubber floors and then bends down to fix his shoe, be prepared to grab it before it hits him in the head.  I resisted the urge to tell him I'd happily provide mouth-to-mouth services if he felt like he was going to stop breathing after this incident.).  We were doing some pretty aggressive pulls to increase my strength with some obscure shoulder blade muscle and he had to help me pull it a few times.  At one point, he took his hand off mine (sad face) halfway through the rep and there was no difference.  I was able to manage the weight because my brain had been convinced that he was helping me, when in reality, he just had his hand on mine.  In his infinite fitness wisdom, he shared that so much of success in training is mental.  You have to believe that you can do something, even if a part of you thinks it isn't physically possible.  You are your biggest champion.  If you think you're going to fail, then of course you will.  Think about the rep that you are on, don't anticipate the tenth or twelfth or fifteenth rep when you're finished.  Focus on each one and get the most out of the moment.  Pretty wise, not just for fitness, but life in general.

So, instead of the usual New Year's Resolutions (by the way, my gym is packed.  I hate to root against anyone, but I'm looking forward to February when all of these resolution-ers have gotten back to their old ways.)  that include things like losing weight or adding exercise or dieting, I'm resolving to work on my mental cheering squad.  I have to believe and visualize that I'm going to reach  my goals, whatever they are.  I have to envision myself wearing that tank top this summer with super toned arms or how awesome my calves are going to look in heels in another month or so of using the stairclimber or running across the finish line at that 5K.  I have to be my own pep squad every single day.  Lying scales or not, I'm kicking ass and taking names.  And thus begins my 2012 resolution.