Days 29 and 30 - Weight? Wait. That's not what this is about.

Yesterday being the last day of 2012, it was also the culminating day for my weight loss goal for the year.

In January 2012, I committed myself to losing 30 pounds within a year.

It was an ambitious goal, but it felt necessary. I didn't like hated the way I looked, and I had recently found out that I have obstructive sleep apnea, which is often caused, or at least affected, by weight.

I had a hard time starting. My then-boyfriend was going through problems of his own and had some habits and attitudes that didn't support an attempt to get healthier and fitter. I continued to be limited in my ability to do certain types of physical activity following my shoulder surgery, and I had developed some unhealthy habits during my recovery, including eating processed foods (they were easy to prepare with one arm!) and living an exceedingly sedentary lifestyle. 

I also really like to cook, bake, and eat.

Doing what I love to do!

I gained a bit of extra motivation in an unexpected place; when I broke up with my boyfriend I realised that I had become someone I didn't like a whole lot. I wanted to make healthful changes and reconnect with who I felt I really was - someone fit, fun, and respectful of her own body. I began setting small weekly goals that I hoped would help. For example, I pledged one week to activate my gym membership, and on another week I committed myself to eliminating all beverages except tea without sugar and water. Probably the most influential goal I set for myself was to bring a packed lunch to school everyday. This eliminated the need to buy the greasy junk from the cafeteria...which also saved me quite a bit of money.

With concerted effort, the weight started dropping off, and by December I was quite close to reaching my weight loss goal.

But I didn't weigh myself yesterday.

It didn't seem necessary.

Who cares whether I've lost 25 pounds or 27 or 30? 

Nope, sorry scale.

I almost climbed on the scale in Amy and Katie's bathroom. But I realised that it didn't matter. I'm happier now with how I look, but - much more importantly, as far as I'm concerned - I'm happy that I've committed myself to a lifestyle change that will make me fitter and healthier. I feel that I'm doing something good for myself, and I don't feel right now that I need the scale to validate my efforts.

This doesn't mean I won't weigh myself ever again. In fact, I'll probably weigh myself in a couple of weeks. 

But I think I'm internalising for the first time the idea that the number on the scale isn't a reflection of my worth. It's not a reflection of my health. It's not a reflection of my respect for myself. 

And in other news, after ten days hanging around with a bunch of sickies, I was bound to catch something. Yesterday I was feeling pretty off, and today I felt pretty rough with a headache, sore throat, and cough by the time I reached home. I ran a difficult few kilometres yesterday, and today decided to spend half an hour stretching and rolling using my foam roller. It wasn't quite the intensity that I would have preferred, but my body is feeling pleasantly stretched-out and relaxed, and I'm glad I made the decision to let myself recover a bit. 

It is sometimes a bit too tempting to push onward blindly.

The speed of my run yesterday. Ouch.