In January I threw out the scale. Well, I didn't throw it out. It is still hanging out in the utility room, but I haven't stepped on it. Actually, I haven't stepped on it since I fractured my foot in the fall. But when I refocused after Christmas, I decided that the scale was not going to be part of my daily life, or even my weekly life. I lose slow. If I lose 4 lbs in a month, it is a small wonder. Watching the scale can be devastating for me mentally. Especially when I am blog hopping and read about others that are upset by 5lb per week losses. I know that everyone's journey is different and I shouldn't compare my losses to others, but that is easier said than done. So, I threw out the scale. And it has been great. That silly number doesn't dictate my mood. That silly number doesn't throw me into a binge. That silly number doesn't effect me because I don't know what it is. I had thought about hopping on the scale tomorrow because it is the first of the month. I thought about it all week. I agonized over that that number might be. And then today I got it. Something that is so much more exciting than losing half a pound in four weeks. My Neene asked me if I had lost weight. And it made my day! So tomorrow, I am not stepping on the scales. Because I don't want that number to change the way I have been feeling. Tomorrow I am going to get up and do the same things I have been doing for the past 5 weeks...I am going to be mindful of what I eat and write it down. I am going to drink my water. I am going to have an awesome workout...and since it is Saturday, I might even have two. And I am going to be proud of what I have accomplished during the past few weeks!