Forever Body Transformation
At that moment, The Fat Person, who’s been waiting in the wings all this time, grabs your attention. Grabs control. That’s you again. In other words, when you’re The Skinny Person you’re always making promises for The Fat Person to keep.
That’s why they don’t like each other. They each want totally different things. The problem is that when you’re The Skinny Person, you’re totally consumed by it’s needs, it’s interests, it’s lifestyle.
After all, tomorrow’s another day. You go to bed, promising yourself that you will work harder on Thursday. But somehow something has changed. You don’t know what’s changed until Thursday morning. It’s raining – Your bedroom is cold – Something feels different. What is it? For a minute or two you can’t quite put your finger on it. And then you get it: somebody else has possessed your body. It’s The Fat Person! It’s back! And it doesn’t want to run. As a matter of fact, it doesn’t even want to get out of bed. It’s cold outside. “Run? Are you kidding me?” The Fat person doesn’t want anything to do with it. The only exercise it might be interested in is eating! All of a sudden you find yourself in front of the refrigerator—inside the refrigerator—all over the kitchen! Food is now your major interest.
The Fat Person is back and running the show again. Because we’ve been hoodwinked into thinking we’re really one person. The Skinny Person and The Fat Person are two totally different personalities, with different needs, different interests, and different lifestyles.
Amazing. A lean machine. On Wednesday, you really pour it on. You work out an extra hour in the morning, an extra half-hour at night. You can’t wait to get on the scale. You strip down to your bare skin, shivering in the bathroom, filled with expectation of what your scale is going to tell you.
You step lightly onto it and look down. What you see is…nothing. You haven’t lost an ounce. You’re exactly the same as you were on Tuesday. Dejection rolls in. Resentment starts to creep in. “After all that work? After all that sweat and effort? And then—nothing? It isn’t fair.” But you shrug it off.
The Marathon in Maui is gone; the lean machine is gone; the sweats, barbells and running shoes are no longer used.
And then something happens—the scale disappoints you, the weather turns cold, somebody offers you a double chocolate brownie—with vanilla ice cream.