This morning I got a text from a friend telling me that she'd reached her weight loss goal. I congratulated her, and she told me she still had a little ways to go, but I'm very proud of her.
Then I started thinking about goal weights.
I hate the concept of a goal weight, but it's a necessary evil for Weight Watchers. I don't like the idea of success being defined strictly by a number on the scale - there are so many other magical numbers that add up to the mix.
Measurements, clothing size, BMI, running pace, minutes of activity - these are all things I consider to be markers of success. I would love - LOVE - to see a smaller number on the scale. At this point, I need to lose 61 lbs to be at the top end of the recommended weight for my height, according to Weight Watchers. I'm not sure that losing any more weight than that is realistic or even possible, but that might be self doubt and fear talking.
But what I'm learning is that it's more important to me to be a smaller dress size and have smaller measurements and be able to run further and faster than to see a magical number on the scale.
Tomorrow is my first weigh-in, and I'm going to try to remind myself of that. The first WW weigh in is always a bit of a spectacle. It's 'average' to see a loss of 3-8 lbs in that first week, and it can be disappointing in the weeks that follow when your results don't match up to that first week of dieting glory. So here I go, trying to remind myself that if the scale doesn't move that much, not to be disappointed. I can definitely do more wimpy lady pushups this week than I could last week - and that's progress.