and then you let her down easy.

I'm big on numbers. I should know better, but numbers are so indisputable. I've been fighting the number on the scale for weeks, months even. Still stubbornly going to the gym knowing that regardless of what the evil scale has to say, there really isn't a choice in the matter.

It's health, or illness.

The contrast is night and day for me, but for others it's shades of gray. I'm fighting the numbers every step of the way knowing that if I don't make progress I'll be stuck in the shade of illness forever.

I've picked up swimming and weightlifting, increased the resistance on the elliptical, and I've lengthened my runs for endurance. And yet day after day I face four digits of disappointment as the scale refuses to budge.

My weight might be playing games with me, but my body isn't. I know, it totally sounds like I just contradicted myself. Hold that thought.

I'm wearing a size 12 dress. Right. Now.