The Spry Life

Some marriage experts say couples shouldn't have secrets from each other. I don't agree. Some secrets, I think, are healthy. For instance: My husband has put on about 25 pounds in the last, say, nine months. That was when we moved into our new house from the apartment where we'd been squatting for the previous year, as we tried to sell a house in Birmingham. When we lived in the apartment, Rick had a habit of taking our dog for long hikes in the nearby park several times a week. That's the perfect exercise for him. Rick has never been a gym-goer, and although he'd been a runner and a kayaker when I met him, he abandoned those activities after we got married, as many people do.

Now, Rick doesn't need me to tell him he's gained weight--he knows. And I know how I reacted when people tried to suggest, however gently, that maybe I didn't need a second helping of mashed potatoes, or that a little exercise would do me good. All that did was make me want a THIRD helping of taters. So I've said nothing.

And then, just a few weeks ago, he casually mentioned "my Tai Chi class." "Oh," I said, trying not to be TOO excited, "you're taking Tai Chi?" He proceeded to tell me how one day at the Y, when he was in the hot tub (he often goes to "take a soak and a steam"--not to work out), the instructor of the water-based Tai Chi class persuaded him to join in. He'd been going for several weeks at that point. "Good," I said. And that's it. Then, that weekend, he suggested we go to the Y as a family. That usually means we romp around in the pool. But this time, he said, "Maybe you can show me how to work out on the weights."

Inside, I'm cheering louder than the Canadians at Sunday's gold medal hockey game. Outside, I just said "Sure." So I take him through a good circuit workout, which he's gone back and done pretty faithfully ever since. 

I AM SO EXCITED! Whether he drops all the weight or not, whether he ends up with the body of an Adonis or not, doesn't matter. Much more important is what he's doing for his health, his future, his family. We have a lot of years ahead of us, and I want to be hiking the Grand Canyon, cycling the Natchez Trace, living out the rest of our lives healthy, together. I have no control over him--he could quit tomorrow--but I can be an example. And it looks like that might be enough!

Lisa D 

Last weekend, I had the pleasure of appearing on a panel with Liz Young and Tracey Yukich (at right) at a Women's Wellness Weekend here in the Nashville area. Despite the fact that we didn't meet each other until 10 minutes before we went on, we were connected in so so many ways. Tracey, the mom of four from Dallas, and Liz, who's the oldest contestant on the show ("old" is up for debate--she's only 50, for goodness sake!), share so many of the experiences and attitudes that I do about losing weight and getting healthy for good. We talked about the fact that embracing a healthy lifestyle for the long haul starts with what's inside--it requires a change of heart, literally. We talked about the challenges of making our own health a priority, when we have husbands, kids, and (for Liz, anyway) grandkids in the mix. I talked about learning to forgive myself for "failures"--that our failures (at weight loss, at getting healthy, at EVERYTHING, really) are just lessons waiting to be learned. And how letting go of that expectation of perfection was the most important lesson I learned through my journey toward good health. And that--as Tracey said--I still have a "fat brain," so I must keep those lessons top-of-mind if I'm to continue down that healthy road.

Of course, our experiences of weight loss are different. Liz and Tracey had Jillian in their face during their 4-hour-a-day workouts; they were cut off from many of the pressures and temptations of home during their stay at "the ranch." I had to find my inner Jillian (mine was much nicer but just as demanding); I had to find ways to protect myself from pressures and to insulate myself from temptation. And now that they're back in their "real" lives, they have to, too. And after talking with them, it seems that they have.

We also share the sense of responsibility that comes from being given a gift, the gift of good health. Tracey talks about her Biggest Loser experience as her second chance, and both she and Liz are making the most of their new healthy lives. They had just finished a fitness certification course, with a plan of traveling the country, doing boot camps to share what they've learned. More power to them!

Lisa D

This morning, my son Johnny and I were singing at the top of our lungs on the way to school. He'd been given a CD of 70's pop favorites by his super-cool music teacher, Mr. Richmond, so Johnny could practice for an upcoming spring performance. Apparently, he has a solo during the Earth, Wind and Fire classic, Shining Star--a great song for a kid who needs to build more confidence in the classroom. Others on the CD included Crocodile Rock, Fire and Rain and Love Train--I should have Mr. Richmond DJ all of my Monday mornings!

After drop off, I switched over to NPR for a little news. There was a feature about the painter, Renoir, that really caught my ear, especially when the reporter quoted him as saying "I am just learning to paint" only 6 years before his death at age 78. Those last years, he had rheumatoid arthritis so bad that he struggled to hold the brush. Amazing. Amazing to be so open to learning new things so late in life, at such a level of creative mastery. Maybe that's what made him a master in the first place--that life-long openness to the new.

I had just spent a weekend with my parents, who are in their mid-70s and ailing. The visit started out rough--my dad is particularly unwell and wasn't much in the mood for company. His prostate cancer has taken a turn for the worse, and we aren't sure what our options are right now. They may require him to go to a new doctor, try a new therapy, get out of his comfort zone. But just before I left for the airport yesterday, I saw a crack in the door. He was talking about the possibiity of going to an experimental drug trial, going back to physical therapy, fighting, not giving up. He even acknowledged (it was HIS idea) that he and my mom could use the space in the house better--get rid of some furniture, move the desks downstairs where they can have better access. This may not sound like much, but it gave me hope. At least he's thinking about solutions rather than just giving up.

We all have the choice, every day, to be open to new ways of doing things, or to dig in our heels and do it our way. That's probably the biggest struggle of my life, to let go, to trust, to embrace that Plan B or C or D or Z. All I can do is recognize the closed door, and pry it open. Over and over and over.

Lisa D