Bon Bons to Yoga Pants

Chapter 31-Plate o' Bacon

If I hadn't already been holding onto the handrails, I would have fallen. Megan had a habit of throwing curveballs into all my opinions on life and health.

The scale was the symbol of weight loss and hotness, right?

"Throw away the scale?" I repeated dumbly. "But that's insane. How will I know if I've made any progress?"

She straightened and motioned toward my pants with a tilt of her head. "How are your clothes fitting?"

"Loose."

"How do you feel after a workout?"

"Hungry."

She laughed again, and I cracked my first smile for the day. My stomach growled in testament.

"Okay, granted, I feel hungry after working out too. But do you feel anything else?"

"Of course. I feel good after I work out. Happy, even."

She met my gaze straight on. "And how do you feel every morning when you wake up now compared to a couple months ago when you first started getting healthier?"

I paused to think it over, because the intent look in her eyes told me this wasn't something to take lightly. I thought of my basement lair, of the secret stash of food I used to have in my closet but didn't anymore. I thought of Zumba with Kenzie and the light, fresh taste of a healthy, non-sugary smoothie. My last thought culminated on the realization that I hadn't even logged onto Facebook the past two days because I'd been too busy.

That had never happened before now. Facebook—or perhaps it had just been Bradley—was all that I had looked forward to every day. Now I had new friends and new goals.

"I feel great," I concluded with a sheepish smile. "I feel . . . alive."

Megan smiled.

"Yeah," she said. "And you look alive. That's what getting healthy is about. Getting healthy is more up here than anywhere else." She tapped on the side of her head. "It's not just counting calories. I eat clean because it's good for my body. But I exercise because it's how I feel good about myself. I prove I can do hard things, and I feel like a boss."

Megan was so different. Although I couldn't deny that watching the numbers tick down on the scale was euphoric, maybe even addicting, Megan had a light in her eyes and a sense of confidence that I had never even hoped for. I didn't exactly understand how, but I had the vague impression that her courage had something to do with her strange philosophies on life and exercise.

"I never thought of the problem being in my head," I said, leaning against the treadmill arms. "I always thought it was in my tree-trunk sized legs."

Megan tilted her head back and laughed again.

"Just let it go, Lex. Forget the scale. Don't work out so that the numbers go down, because the numbers are fickle. Do it because it makes you happy and because it's the right thing to do for your body. The pounds will melt off, and in the meantime, you'll find yourself."

__________________

Bradley: Hey Lex! How are things going?

Lexie: Good! I just got back from the gym.

Bradley: Nice. Good workout?

Lexie. Yeah. Intervals on the treadmill and a few weight machines. Nothing crazy. I talked with my friend Megan for a while too. It was . . . enlightening.

Bradley: Oh?

Lexie: Yeah. She just always gives me something to think about.

Bradley: Here's something else to think about. I'm almost done with reading Frankenstein. (Be impressed.)

Lexie: I am!

Bradley: So I was thinking that we could discuss it next weekend? I'm busy this weekend with a few things, but I'd love to talk about it next week.

Lexie: Sure. I'm free.

Bradley: Awesome. Because I think it would be awesome to video chat. What do you say?

Spill: Scale or no scale? What do you think?

Also . . . video chatting. How is this going to go down?

As always, thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, click that little star or add it to your library to make sure you get notifications when I update. (Which is every Monday and Thursday).

For those of you food lovers out there, check out my Pinterest board, "I Won't Eat It, But I'll Drool Over It" for food porn pictures. #IDie #toomuchyummmy

https://www.pinterest.com/kcrosswriting/i-wont-eat-it-but-ill-drool-over-it/