Weekly Weighin: Are you kidding me?

It's Friday, and that means stepping onto the Summit scale for the first time in a week. I don't mind telling you that this is the first week that I haven't felt dread over the proposition. Between last week's zero lose and the fact that I really brought it this week, I knew I was in for a big number. Of course, I was wrong.

Last week I was frustrated by not having lost more weight, but I knew I could only blame myself. I hadn't put in the time at the gym (just two real workouts), and my diet was far from a priority. Bouncing back from that experience, I worked my butt off this week (unfortunately, not literally). Monday and Tuesday I got up early and worked out to the Biggest Loser Weight Loss Yoga (it may sound funny but it's not...it's torture). Then, for the first time in about twelve years, I put in three consecutive swim workouts Wednesday, Thursday and this morning. What's more, these weren't wimpy swims. I wasn't just floating for 40 minutes. I was really pushing. I did a number of sprints as part of interval training, and I timed myself on longer distances.

Approaching that scale this morning I felt great. I felt deserving. Then I stepped aboard...and I felt like I'd been kicked in the pants. I lost weight, but it was definitely in decimal form. For the last two weeks I'd weighed in at 206.8 pounds. This morning, the scale read 206.2. For those of you whose calculators don't have room for a decimal (and who didn't excel in middle school math), that means I've only lost one half of a pound in the last week. HALF A POUND!

This puts my weight loss to date at 15 pounds after 10 weeks of working out. I know I should be focusing on that 15, but I can't help but feel the 10 in marrow of my bones.

How does that happen? I worked out. I watch my calories like they were invading enemy forces. I did all the things I was supposed to do. I feel like I got gypped. I know, I know, I should be grateful that I lost something or that I didn't gain weight. I'm not grateful, though, I'm frustrated. How am I supposed to get my lazy butt out of bed at 5:45 to workout, when it hasn't really paid off recently? Wouldn't it just be easier to stay fat and just hang out with my wife and baby?

Don't worry. I haven't given up. I'll be back to work this week. I just hope that next Friday the scale is a little friendlier.