That isn't a pretty number

I will be the first to admit, the scale and I? We haven't always gotten along.

But for the past two years? It's been a decent relationship. It's one we've formed through sweat and tears. Namely, the year I spent in the gym and watching what I ate. And it paid off for me. As I dropped 50 pounds.

It was hard work and there were times I was frustrated. But I kept on working. And after a year, I was proud of myself. I was at a weight I felt comfortable at and I managed to maintain it. Yes, the number on the scale would vary by a pound or two. But I was always right at that magic number. And yes, there were days when I just wanted to lose those last five pounds. But I was OK if they didn't disappear. I felt good about myself.

Like I said, the scale and I? We were getting along.

Note the key word: Were.

The scale and I haven't been as friendly the last month. It's beginning to be a relationship that's a bit strained. As in, the number? It's been creeping up. And I'm not happy.

The worst part about it? It doesn't have to do with my eating habits. Rather I think it's due to a combination of the medicine I'm taking, the fact that winter is never ending and the difficulties I've had re-establishing the willpower to get back to the gym after being really, really sick.

For starters, the steroid I'm taking? What's one of the side effects? Weight gain. But I also admit, it's been hard for me to get back into the habit of going to the gym multiple times a week, especially after I was so sick in December, the month I barely remember. And everybody knows it's inevitable that you put on an extra pound or two during the winter.

So it's like I'm dealing with a triple whammy. Not fun. And that's why the scale and I aren't on the best of terms at the moment.

People say it doesn't really look like I've gained any weight. But there's a part of me that feels like I have. And while it isn't a lot, it still doesn't make me feel good about myself. I mean, I worked so hard to shed it before and I don't want to see all that effort wasted just because of a medication I'm on that's supposed to be fixing my head.

So this morning, after I had my daily dose of disappointment from the scale, I made a decision. Starting tomorrow I will get back to the YMCA at least three times a week. And I'm going to start making a good effort to watch what I eat again. Because these extra seven or eight pounds that I've put on? They've got to go.