“We don’t put children on diets,”
said the doctor. “But the truth of the
matter is that he’s off the charts, weight-wise.”
“So what do we do, then?”
“First thing is to be more
active. Put more activity into your
daily life. Whether it be playing a
sport or just getting outside and moving around. No more video games.”
“I don’t really play a lot of
video games.”
“Yeah, he mostly plays with
Legos.”
“Well, take them outside. Get up and active. Ride a bike.
Walk. Take up running. Anything so you’re more physically
active. And sugary snacks need to be
completely removed from the home. No
sodas. No candy and other sugar-based
foods. What kind of milk do you drink?”
“Whole.”
“Move to 2%.”
“I’ve actually had 2% milk. I don’t mind it so much. It’s not so bad.”
“But remember: this isn’t a diet. Kids need to grow into their weight rather
than being worried about losing weight.”
“Yes, sir.”
Not a conversation a parent wants
to have or likes to have with his/her child’s doctor. Of course I’ve noticed he’s gained more
weight over the past year. So have I,
sadly. I’m powerless over it. He’s such a picky eater; it’s so hard to find
something for him to eat that he likes.
Not to mention the fact that since we don’t eat together as a family—ever,
really, we tend to make whatever each of us wants whenever each of us is hungry
rather than fixing something for all of us to eat together.
The only time we eat together is
when we make something like spaghetti.
And sometimes on Sunday afternoons when we all go out to eat
together.
Everything the doctor said is so
easy to do. Everything the doctor said
for us to do my son is what I need to do for me, too.
It’s really ridiculous to go on a
diet. All they do is set us up for
failure. If we can just decide to make
some important changes to our regular habits, especially in regards to doing
something physical, rather than focus on LOSING WEIGHT, we’ll be healthier and
happier. I know it’s true.
“Hey, Chubby! Bet you can’t make it running around the
track even once!”
He scrunched up his face and set
out with fierce determination. One way
or another, he was going to run all the way around the track, even if he passed
out in the process. He knew he wasn’t
very fast….they’re already shouting jeers at him because he’s so slow.
“I bet we could play a whole game
of baseball before he runs all the way he’s so slow!” taunted the loudest of
them.
“Yeah! And go into overtime, at that!” They all laughed.
But he kept running. Slow or not, they’d only challenged him to
run around the track. And run it he
would. He was already out of breath and
sweating. He knew he was going to have a
rash between his legs and under his arms, but he kept plugging.
Mrs. Jones heard the boys’ taunts
and walked closer to see what was going on.
He was running the track. Her
heart was in her throat. She’d watched
him steadily gain weight throughout the school year and had wondered if
anything was wrong. But he seemed healthy
and relatively happy. An average student
who loved to talk and participate in class.
And an avid reader who only had one other person in the class ahead of
him in Reading. He’d always been last in
PE. She’d spoken with the PE teacher a
few times about how he always did everything asked of him, but he was always
last.
And now she watched as he very
slowly ran around the track. She would
punish the other boys for taunting him, but at the same time, he needed
this. She willed him to take each step. She began to shout encouragement to him, “You
can do it, Samuel! Keep going!”
He heard his teacher, but his
brain barely registered what she said. “I’m
in trouble now.” He needed all his
strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Each step was now pure agony. He was out of breath, sweating like a pig,
and was getting a terrible stitch in his side.
“Don’t stop. Don’t stop.
Keep going. You can do it. You have to show these guys that you can do
it. Just a little further. You’re almost there. Keep going.”
It wasn’t long before all the
kids on the playground, including the other classes, were watching him
run. And they were all shouting
encouragement to him. Even the boys who’d
taunted him into running the track.
“Keep going, Samuel. We’re with you.”
In his brain-fogged exhaustion,
he realized that two of his classmates, both girls, were running on either side
of him, keeping pace with him. He wanted
to run faster, but he was having a hard enough time just putting one foot in
front of the other as it was.
“Come on, Samuel. Just a little further. You’re almost there.”
Are they encouraging me?! Where’d that come from? I thought everyone thought I was fat and slow
and stupid. No. Those are definitely words of encouragement.
Huh.
In a moment, he looked up and
noticed that he only had a couple yards left.
I can do this! I’m going to do this! I’m going to make it all the way around the
track! I may be slow, but I’m going to
do it!
He didn’t put on a burst of
speed. He didn’t have any speed
left. But he didn’t stop his pace,
either. One foot in front of the
other. Almost there.
As he crossed the invisible
finish line, he felt lots of pats on the back, but his Mrs. Jones was
speaking: “Don’t stop. You have to walk around for a few minutes and
cool off. Don’t stop moving yet.”
Someone shoved a water bottle in
his hand which he downed while still moving around.
“Way to go, Samuel!”
“You did it!”
“I knew you could do it all
along.”
Wow. I did do it.
Maybe I could do it every day…..maybe this could be the activity I do
every day that the doctor told me I need to do…..it wasn’t so bad……
