Track Behaviors, Not the Scale

My scale and I are currently in a long-term, low-communication relationship. It hasn’t said anything new in about a year. I live comfortably—too comfortably—between 120 and 125 pounds. It’s basically my zip code now.

And look, I’m fine with my weight. We’re on good terms. But my body fat percentage? That’s another story. We are not aligned. So here I am, trying to build muscle, lose fat, and not lose my mind in the process.

I’ve always believed: what gets measured gets done.
But when the scale refuses to participate in the conversation, you have to get creative.

So I stopped obsessing over that stubborn little square of judgment and started measuring something else—behaviors.

• How many days did I actually show up at the gym this week? (Showing up counts. Gold star for me.)
• What weights did I lift, and how many reps did I grind out before my muscles filed a formal complaint?
• How many steps did I take? (Yes, walking to the fridge counts. Barely.)
• How many grams of protein did I eat—and did I accidentally turn into a human protein shake?
• How many calories did I consume… and did any of them come from “just one more handful” of SkinnyPop… which is never just one handful?

And then there are the measurements… waist, hips, thighs… uugghh. Nothing humbles you faster than a measuring tape. That thing has zero emotional intelligence.

For the real truth (because clearly I enjoy accountability), I get a DEXA scan every 6 months. Nothing like lying perfectly still while a machine politely tells you what’s really going on under the hood.

Here’s the deal: numbers don’t lie—but they also don’t always move fast enough to satisfy my personality. Progress is happening… it’s just taking the scenic route.

So I remind myself (often, and sometimes loudly):
This is a marathon, not a sprint.

And if I keep tracking the right things—the things I can actually control—the results will eventually show up… even if my scale is still on strike.