As I was walking down to the gym today to go lift weights, I was stopped by the husband of one of B’s coworkers. He didn’t even shut the door to his car, but wanted to come over and walk with me for a minute. He told me that he thinks people don’t say this enough, but he wanted me to know that he knows I’ve been going to the gym a lot recently and that he’s noticed my results.
Y’all I was floored. I can’t even see the results of the lifting and running most days, so it astounds me that someone else has.
I practically skipped the rest of the way to the gym. My confidence buoyed by the unexpected compliment, I made a beeline for the scale in the women’s locker room. I mean, obviously if someone noticed me looking better, I must be significantly lighter, right?
Wrong. I weighed in at the top of the range I’ve been hovering around. Which isn’t surprising at all given the circumstances. I stepped off the scale, after seeing a number that is where I expected it to be, and realized that I had a choice. I could be down because the numbers aren’t budging or I could stay buoyed by the compliment.
I chose the latter. I still want those numbers to go down. But I’m not going to give up just because they’re the same as they were last month. I’m more concerned with enjoying my lifting, learning to like running, and being healthier. That number is important to me, but I’m more than a number.