Confessions of a Lent FAIL

As a Southern Baptist, born and raised, Lent does not have the same meaning that is does for Catholics, Lutherans or Methodists. But I figure, if they can give up various things like eating red meat, eating anything at all, sugar, adult beverages, using colorful language, etc., then hey, why should they suffer alone.

So, in the spirit of self-control or self-denial, I decided that this Lent season, March 9th through April 23rd, I would give up my bathroom weight scale. Now I can hear you saying to yourself, “Bathroom weight scale?!?! Come on, Vicki. People give up far more important and/or worse things than that for Lent.” I hear you, loud and clear. However, what you fail to understand is the intimate relationship I have with my bathroom weight scale. It is not as intimate to the point where I have given my scale a name. Well, maybe I have. I do tend to call it Liar on most days. It is the type of relationship where I spend more than the normal amount of time standing on it. My relationship goes a little something like this. (WARNING: there is a small moment of a man’s bare tush. It’s not a cute one and that‘s the real warning.)

My trainer, Andre, says that you should only weight yourself once a week. That is also the doctrine adopted by Weight Watchers. I laugh in their face. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not obsessed about my weight to the point where anyone should be concerned. I just like to know where my weight is at any given time of the day, which requires several trips on and off the scale.

Knowing that just saying I would give up my scale for Lent wouldn’t be enough, I decided to give my scale to my Lent accountability partner, Madison. As a side fail to this full-on fail, I can’t even remember what Madison gave up for Lent. Maybe that means I should ask her how she is doing, you think.  I was doing fine. No scale in the house and hell would freeze over before I stepped on the scale at my Publix grocery store. My friend, Becky, does that and I can safely say that I am not as brave as she is.

Again, I was fine, until a couple of weekends ago. It was then that I decided that I would give my house a colonic and in the process of getting rid of a bunch of junk just laying all over my place, I stumbled upon my old bathroom weight scale.

I had put this one out to pasture because it didn’t have the .0 decimal place for half pounds. It was evil in that it rounded UP my weight, which is unacceptable at all times! The only way to deal with such treachery was dismissal of its duties and I thought I had thrown it way. Guess what? Didn’t. I’m sure that I didn’t because I knew that I may do something silly like this in the future. Past Vicki was looking out for Future Vicki. This is its current place in my bathroom right now.  

Well yesterday, Madison decides to go all Lent-accountability on me and so I had to make 2 confessions:

1. I had uncovered the old scale and put in my bathroom, albeit out of reach for every time use.

2. I had been weighing myself once a week, which had amounted, to date, as 3 times. That is a dramatic decrease from the 3 OR 4 times a day I would normally weigh.

Nevertheless, I do feel bad about it and will get back on the Lent train. So as we’re just passed the halfway point of Lent, who’s with me?