This weekend, Becky ran/walked in Grandma’s marathon in Duluth, Minnesota. To say that I am proud of her would be an understatement. I am beyond proud of her. This marathon that she finished is the culmination of a year’s worth of walking and running and officially ends almost five years (perhaps even longer) of unhappiness for her.
My wife had been very depressed about her weight for quite a while. She didn’t feel very pretty and she didn’t feel healthy. She would walk upstairs and would get winded. She got depressed at the size clothing that she would have to wear. She would get depressed at “looking pregnant” when she really wasn’t and she got really tired of wearing pants with elastic as opposed to her Levi’s 501′s that she used to wear.
It was hard to watch her go through this. There is nothing worse than standing by watching someone you love dearly be so unhappy and not be able to do anything about it. I could run until I dropped dead and it wouldn’t do anything for her weight. I could do jumping jacks and skip rope until my limbs fell off and she wouldn’t lose a pound. Ultimately, the only thing I could ever do was to encourage her and to try and make time for her to exercise regularly. All the whistling, winking, telling her how gorgeous and sexy she was (which was for real, by the way. I never stopped thinking she was either of those) never helped at all. She would smile and say, “Thank you”, but in the end, it really didn’t help. To her, it didn’t count because I was her husband and that’s what husbands are supposed to say to their wives so ultimately she couldn’t take what I was saying at face value.
Then something interesting happened. Well, two things actually. I don’t remember which came first but two interesting things happened. First, she went to a pre-diabetic class and learned how to properly balance her diet and change the way she ate. This was huge. She started counting carbs and she started adhering to the new guidelines that she was given and she started to lose weight. Then, she made the decision to start walking. She opened the front door and started walking. She went around the block. She was tired. She started to go around the block more often. Walking around the block led to walking down the block. She was tired. She started walking down the block and started to get farther away every time she walked. Then she walked a 5k one day. It took her over an hour and a half. But she walked it. She was tired. We started to go camping and she started to walk the trails. All the while, her weight started going down and one day, she jogged up the stairs and wasn’t tired. A spark appeared in her eyes. She was a size smaller. A bigger spark. Then she started jogging.
Confucius says, “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step”. Looking back now it’s hard to say what that first step was, whether it was the diabetic class or her first walk out the door. But something happened for her and it ignited her, and she’s been off ever since. The winter came and she was forced to walk on the treadmill. It wasn’t the same as walking outside and she was going to miss that but it was okay, because she had seen the change. She had created sufficient momentum within herself that would keep her moving through the cold months when she could at last run outside. All of the walking down the street and all of the 5k’s eventually led her to a half marathon in April, to which she jogged all but maybe a mile. This woman who would be to the brink of tears because she couldn’t take the laundry basket upstairs without needing oxygen had just jogged almost thirteen miles. This past weekend she jogged/walked twenty six miles.
My wife is now a size 3/4. She’s wearing clothes that fit our ten-year old daughter. She can now shop in the misses section and at Gap Kids. Through it all, she’s kept her focus solid – just get healthy. She wasn’t aiming for a size, just good health. She looks absolutely fantastic. I’ve always thought she was gorgeous, and beautiful, and sexy. I’ve always looked at her, even when she didn’t know that I was, and I never, ever thought she was fat. It’s so nice to see her happy with the image she sees in the mirror. Finally.
I am so proud of her.
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Steve
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Tags: B/W, Duluth, Family, Minnesota
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