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What Gaining 15 Pounds Taught Me About Running
I stepped on the scale at my doctor’s office knowing the number would be high.
I always weigh more on those scales than anywhere else.
When the number registered 171, I couldn’t believe my eyes.
Part of me was tempted to ask the nurse if the scale was calibrated incorrectly, but secretly, I knew better.
The next day, I went to my gym.
I knew I should wait for my trainer to return from vacation for a proper measurement, but there’s a digital scale in their locker room.
Before my workout, I jumped on, expecting the number to be at least a few pounds less. I had been weighing around the low 160s.
170.5. The heaviest I have ever seen on any scale, apart from the day before. I looked at myself in the mirror.
Yes, I have a tummy; I’ve almost always had one, except once when I was sick for a month with a bug, and on Day 29 of the thoroughly unsustainable Whole30.
But now, it seemed, I was getting big everywhere.
I turned sideways in the mirror and looked.
The tummy was big, bigger than I remembered. I felt fear and dread.
