I don't know what I had expected. I never even really considered the greater complications that would arise from my wife's newfound love of exercise.
It's been a year since Helen decided she'd had enough of being out of shape. She had always been an athlete, and compared to her peers she kept herself relatively fit. But age and real-life had taken their toll and while I never stopped finding her attractive, she had lost some definition and gained a few pounds.
I think what broke the camel's back was when she tried on an old dress she had worn in her early twenties. The dress did fit, but it was very tight. She had been talking about getting serious about exercise for a few years but never really got started and stuck with it.
This time around she joined a CrossFit box, something she hadn't tried before. I remember her being unsure about it for the first few weeks, she hadn't done this much weightlifting since college, and even then this was much better structured and focused on raw strength gain. I supported her all the way through, despite membership being a bit more expensive than spinning classes or whatever else she had tried before. I figured that at worst she'd give up in a while and at best she'd like it and get fitter. I don't think many men would complain about their wives getting in better shape.
As the months passed I stopped paying as much attention to her exercising as it simply became a part of our daily lives. She was now training six times a week and had gotten really into it. I had my own life and while I certainly noticed her getting slimmer and fitter I didn't realize just how much.
This brings us to today. We had just purchased a new cabinet for the living room. It came unassembled, but in a huge flat pack, and it was quite heavy. I casually mentioned to her that I could call my friend to carry it up the stairs. We live on the third floor and the building has no elevators, so it's a few flights and some twists and turns around the corner.
Helen cut me off and said: "Don't be silly I can carry this with you up the stairs."
I didn't think much of it and responded with a simple "Okay."
The box was heavier than expected. The store guys had loaded it into the back of our car, leaving the back seats down and the trunk open. We got it out and started up the stairs. I was unsure if I should take the lead, navigating the stairway, or be at the back where the heavier load would be. I decided on the back. After the first flight of stairs, I was completely exhausted and called for a rest. It had taken a little bit as Helen struggled to maneuver the large box around the turn of the stairs.
Helen said: "Let's switch, you're better than I at steering this thing."
