With almost three years of marriage under our collective belts, Wes and I rarely shock one another. When you live with someone in a small house, sharing a bathroom, eating almost every meal together, doing almost everything together during the weekend, there’s really very little room for shocking.
You see, the essential element of shock is surprise. Something out of the ordinary, something different, something you weren’t expecting. Everyday life, while happy and filled with good things, rarely leaves room for the unexpected.
Apparently, a little window opened somewhere in our marriage and blew in just the littlest puff of something different. This was all Wes needed to shock me.
You see, I’ve been exercising lately. I’ve been walking every day since we brought Doc home but within the last week I’ve really decided to step it up. I’ve been doing as many stomach crunches as I can handle every night, using my tiny little 2lb. weights to tone my arms, and running every other day.
This sounds all well and good, but it’s not. I’m convinced that exercise is not good for you. It makes you sore, it takes away your appetite, and it makes you sweaty and smelly. None of this screams beneficiality to me.
I was lamenting to Wes my sadly sore physical state and telling him that exercise makes no sense for me because when I’m sore I eat to comfort myself and then just wind up gaining back all the weight I lost. Here I was, confessing the deepest darkest secrets of my soul and what does Wes do? My sweet, supportive Wes who is my biggest cheerleader (physically and figuratively)?
He told me to suck it up and stop eating my feelings.
Whoa. Tough…love? I was shocked. My jaw may even have hit the floor (because I was stretching, you see) and I blathered for a second before doing more crunches so as to avoid talking.
As shocked as I was, it worked. Starting that day, I stopped eating to comfort my poor exercise-wracked body. I reckon he may have been on to something…