I walked into the locker room the other night when a woman of an older age stopped me and instantly asked, “How tall are you?” With a raised eyebrow I replied 5’5” and she smiled and said, “You have the body I want. That’s exactly what I want to look like.” I thanked her and was about walk away when she stopped me again; “What do you weigh?” Now I was
really taken aback. Who asks a stranger that question? But I obliged in my answer, because, well I don’t really care that much. But then she lowered her head shaking it no. “That’s not what I want to weigh,” she said disappointed in my answer.
Well, which is it lady? Do you want to look like me or weigh the number in your head? I mean, the fact that I told you what I weigh when most people would have been aghast should have been enough. But to then insult me and say my number doesn’t fit your ideal is just an insult. I wanted to say, “Good luck with that,” but I’m not in a position to be so rude.
It drives me crazy that people get so caught up in the numbers. Obsession with the scale and what they think is the ideal can lead to disappointment. In my opinion, she has already set herself up for failure. I’m not saying she can’t reach that goal, but if I physically look like what she sees wants to look like, then the number I gave you is what that body looks like. I’d have a different body at your number. That’s just a fact.
The scale is great. I use it from time to time to keep myself in check. But it is still a tool. And should be used as a tool, in a line of other tools and barometers. You can also ask yourself, “How do you feel?”, “How do your clothes fit?”, and “Are you able to do everyday tasks better?”
When I was in high school and played every sport under the sun and had probably the best figure of my life complete with six pack abs, I still never weighed the number that woman quoted me. At this age, I doubt I ever will and probably never should weigh that number. And I’m ok with that. I wish she was too.
