I love to think thin. Have I ever completely explained what it is? I usually think thin while stretched out on my bed. I shut my eyes and I remember. I think back. I recall specific times in my life when I was thin and alluring. I relive the moment. I mentally enter that thin body and exult in its freedom of movement. I jump and dance and run and play and stand in a sexy pose or two. I become thin… for a time. Then I open my workbook to my Weight-Loss Goal Calendar. I study and plan and thrill over each day, each page. I mentally visualize myself at each stage of weight loss.
August 1970, 130 pounds, and November 1987, 250 pounds. While thinking thin, I visualize my “sweater girl” days, not my “sweaty girl” days. Here I weigh more than Jennifer and Jeremy combined!
At 225, I will fit into three more dresses. I can hardly wait to have a choice again. Twenty-one more pounds, and I will ride my bike again. I will weigh a disgusting 220 pounds, but I will then have the courage to haul my hulk onto my bike and enjoy freedom of movement again. I never in a million years would have thought that one day, at age thirty-five, I would be dying to ride my bike.