Through support, exercise, motivation, and nutrition, one woman makes a positive change in her life.
by Traci Tate — Posted on Jul 5, 2011
I sat on the couch at my parents’ house next to my younger sister, Jamie, my eyes fixed on a photo of me with my brother-in-law, David, taken earlier that day. Triple chin. Rolls on my stomach. I knew I was overweight, but did I really look like that? “Is this what you see when you look at me?” I asked Jamie incredulously.
“Um…yes, T, it is,” she said, measuring her words.
Jamie and I are both nurses. I knew obesity led to serious health issues like high blood pressure and diabetes—I’d seen it in patients. But I was in denial about how overweight I was. I hadn’t stepped on a scale in six years. Diets? They never lasted. Exercise? As if I had energy after working the late shift at the hospital. I didn’t have energy for much of anything now. I’d stopped going out with friends or to church. I didn’t want people staring at me, judging me. But now that I was staring at my photo, I couldn’t blame them. I didn’t want to live like this anymore. “Help me, Jamie,” I said, fighting back tears.
“Well, T…I never told you this, but after you helped me beat cancer, I prayed that when you were ready God would let me help you lose weight.”
If anyone could help me it was Jamie. She was strong, disciplined, motivated. Everything I wasn’t. At just 26 she was diagnosed with breast cancer. David and I took turns driving her to doctor’s appointments, running errands, watching their two kids. Not that Jamie dialed back any. She kept working full-time, volunteering at church. She even took up running and often jogged after chemo treatments. I’d tell her not to do so much. “I’m going to keep living my life,” she’d say. When Jamie went into remission it felt like the three of us—she, David and I—had beat cancer together, as a team. To celebrate, she ran the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure.
Two years ago, the cancer came back. After six weeks of grueling radiation, Jamie went into remission again.
“Jamie, you beat a life-threatening disease,” I said now. “This isn’t the same.”
“Hello, T! Obesity is life-threatening!
We’re going to tackle it one step at a time. Each Sunday I’ll give you a new goal for the week. Sound good?”
I had all kinds of doubts but I knew better than to argue with Jamie. “I’m in,” I said, almost as if I were surrendering.
Sunday evening Jamie called me at work. “Here we go! Goal one: Weigh yourself every Monday,” she said. “It’ll keep you accountable. No more denial.”
The next day one of my coworkers put me on the scale. She pushed the metal bar to the 350-pound limit. It didn’t balance. My mouth fell open. She took me to the bariatric scale, wide enough to roll a wheelchair onto. The digital readout showed 399. Almost 400 pounds! I called Jamie in tears. “I’ll never lose this weight!” I cried.
“That number will go down,” Jamie said firmly. “Give yourself a chance.”
Then David got on the line. “We believe in you, T. Take down your walls and let God back in. He wants to help you.”
I’d expected my sister to stand by me, but David’s support gave me a boost. And truth was, I missed having God in my life. I started with a prayer before bed each night: Lord, give me strength to get healthy so I can live my best life for you.
The second week, Jamie gave me a new goal: “Don’t eat after dinner and avoid drinks with calories.”
“But I usually drink a soda and…”
“No, T,” Jamie said, cutting me off.
Later in the hospital cafeteria, I looked longingly at a can of Coke. But I bought a diet cola instead. Before I clocked out, Jamie called again. I told her what I’d done. “Awesome!” she said. “Now go home and go right to bed.”
Bed? I usually stopped at a fast-food joint, then stayed up late watching TV. Grudgingly, I set my alarm for early the next morning. I woke up feeling energized. Same thing the next few days. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as hard as I thought. Then, on the fifth day, I gave into a craving for a high-calorie soda. “I feel like a loser,” I told Jamie.
“T, we all have setbacks. I’m here for you.” She had me memorize Proverbs 3:5: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” David got on the phone. “T, I know you’re discouraged, but you can do this. Remember Philippians 2:14: ‘Do everything without grumbling or arguing.’”
My third goal? Shop smart and cook healthy. Sunday afternoon Jamie took me to the grocery store (David was away on business). She showed me how to read labels and loaded my cart with fresh fruits and low-calorie, low-fat replacements for my favorite foods. That night I got an even bigger surprise. My phone rang. David calling from the road! “Here’s a quick tip,” he said. “Trade chips for carrots—they’re crunchy and packed with flavor. Keep going, T. You’ve got this.” For the first time I started to believe it.
Jamie and David’s program got results. Four weeks in I’d lost 30 pounds. I stuck with their advice for the next few months. “You’re doing great! Now it’s time to start walking,” Jamie said. “Come over tomorrow morning.”
Walking? Well, at least it wasn’t running! Oh, how wrong I was. I got winded just a few paces in. Then we came to a hill. “No way,” I moaned.
“Think about James 1: ‘Consider it pure joy when you face trials because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance,’” Jamie said.
Was that where Jamie got her strength? From her faith? If she can beat cancer, the least I can do is walk up this hill. I put one foot in front of the other. Before I knew it we were on the other side.
“See! You did it!” Jamie shouted.
Soon Jamie and I were walking a few days a week. One day David set dumbbells in front of me. “You’re a rockstar, T! Let’s add these in now.” He showed me a weight-training routine. I couldn’t believe how easily I picked it up.
I lost 100 pounds in six months. Even better, I felt lighter in spirit because I found a new church. Yes, people looked at me but only to welcome me—and then to listen to my weight-loss story.
I’ve lost 200 pounds so far. I’m strong, determined and living for God. I couldn’t have done it without Jamie and David. Which reminds me of my new favorite verse, Matthew 18:20: “When two or three come together in my name, there I am with them.” Now that’s teamwork.
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