The hardest part of cutting fat last year was adjusting to nonlinearity. This was the pattern: I calculated my daily calorie intake and macronutrient targets. I bought nonprocessed foods and cooked them myself. I recorded what I ate and assured myself that, yes, I had hit my calorie and macro goals. And then the next morning, the scale tells me I’m the exact same weight as before. And then the next day, same weight. And then the next day, a quarter-pound heavier.
This often happened for stretches of ten to fourteen days, and then – whoosh – I’d drop one to two pounds in a couple days. When I look at my progress over a stretch of several months, the long waits and quick drops smooth out into something resembling a steady decline. But day to day, the disappointment of working hard and seeing no positive change was maddening.
The phenomenon extends beyond fat loss. Every time I take on a creative project that feels like its going nowhere or a friend tells me about a professional lull, I’m reminded of that damn scale, indifferent each morning to the exhausting work I’ve put in.
And then, whoosh.