“Are we walking home today, daddy?” my son asked me, when I picked him up from kindergarten yesterday.
“We are,” I told him.
“Yay!” he gushed. Then, on the way home, we chatted about anything and everything. What happens to people when they die. Whether a motorcycle could beat an AT-AT. What we’re going to have for dinner, and whether or not he can play before he does his homework. He finds “treasures” – rocks and sticks, and tried to bring them home. And we swordfight with other branches that he picks up – when he isn’t throwing them like spears or just showing me how far he can toss them.
I love these afternoon walks with my son. They’re a pure reminder of the fact that I’ve made a whole lot of progress, and that I’m in better shape now than I was when he was born. I can carry him around when needed, and give him piggyback rides and wrestle with him – all things I struggled to do, two years ago when he was a lot lighter and I wasn’t.
I’m pretty sure I’ve said all of this before, in more than one post. But I’m saying it again, because he and my wife are my reasons for keeping this up – even when I’m feeling tired, or discouraged, or frustrated by lack of progress. Because they remind me that I’m not just doing this to lose weight. I’m doing it to have more moments like this, and to be able to spend more time with them.
It’s a great feeling, knowing that I already can.