I lay on the bed trying to put on my favorite pair of pants, pulling and dragging, but the zipper wouldn't close. Angrily I threw them to the back of the closet. I found a long large skirt, tied it around my middle, and then joined my husband downstairs. I caught sight of myself in the halfway mirror--I didn't like the person I saw. The weight kept climbing higher each year. The problem was that I hated the word "diet". To me it meant my keeping off every good thing I loved. Later that summer, I found myself out of breath when I climbed two flights of stairs and my heart started beating heavily. I saw my doctor and she told me that I needed to bring down my blood pressure. "Easy for her to say," I thought when I drove back home. Up ahead I saw a McDonald's. I pulled in. The doctor's warning couldn't resist the pull of McDonald's food. The next morning I stepped on the scale and weighed more than I had ever had in my life. Just at the very moment, my thoughts were finally clear. To check the weight I needed to control my choices. Several days later, I went to my favorite restaurant for lunch--I only chose Chinese chicken salad. I felt great when I left the restaurant carrying a take-home box filled with half of that huge salad. But most of all, I discovered I had control over my choices. The weight came off slowly, but after a while it made no progress. Eating a light meal a couple of nights a week would help, but that meant I would prepare two separate dinners, for I would have to continue to make my husband his favorite meals, who supported my weight loss goal. Dusting off the old two--wheel vehicle in the garage, I added exercise by pedaling for 30 minutes after dinner. A year later I lost 25 pounds and my blood pressure was normal. I tried on my favorite pants again. They fit perfectly. On the way back from the doctor's, the author   _  .
climbed two flights of stairs had her blood pressure tested had a meal at McDonald weighed herself on a scale