I’ve always appreciated my brother’s attention to others, but his selflessness and focus on loved ones and his work are starting to impact his health and happiness
He’s always been the guy who takes care of everyone else. Our dad disappeared when we were kids, so as the oldest, my brother gradually became the family’s stand-in father figure. He’s responsible, dependable and the first person everyone calls when something needs fixing. He also has a bit of a hero complex. I say that with love, but also concern, because the hero is now running on fumes, gaining weight and losing the balance between work/family/fitness/happiness
For almost two years, the hits have kept coming. His wife lost her job and has become depressed. She doesn’t seem particularly motivated to find another job, and my brother has increasingly become the one carrying the household
Then his company cut positions, adding to an already heavy workload and his own overachieving approach. Working early, late and on weekends is now the norm
My brother used to be a serious runner, a high-school star and good college runner, and running remained his thing long after that. It kept him fit, but more importantly, it gave him a break from everything
Over the first year of all this, the running slowly tapered off. Now it’s gone completely. He doesn’t have the time or energy, and while he’s upset about losing that part of himself, he seems unable to figure out how to get back to it. So of course he’s gained weight, and lately has been complaining about back pain — but he hasn’t been to the doctor because he says he doesn’t have time. What scares me is that this isn’t a rough month or a bad season, it’s now his life
I know my brother loves his family, and I admire the heck out of him for always showing up for everyone. But I’m afraid he’s forgotten that he’s someone worth showing up for, too. How do I help my big brother, the family hero, understand that taking care of himself isn’t selfish?
Wanda says:
Your brother sounds like someone who learned very young that being needed was his role in the family. When your dad disappeared, he stepped up. People learned they could count on him, and he learned that taking care of everyone else was both an obligation and, perhaps, part of his identity. That can be a wonderful quality. But it can also become a trap when the person doing all the rescuing forgets that he’s allowed to rescue himself too
But stepping away from running and his health may not be a motivation problem. Motivation is unreliable, particularly when someone is exhausted. What he may need first is permission to stop treating his own needs as optional
And don’t make this conversation about his weight. You’re not worried because his pants fit differently. You’re worried because you’ve watched him surrender something that gave him energy, joy and time that belonged exclusively to him. Running was never just exercise. It was an outlet and a piece of his identity
Tell him, “I miss seeing you do something that was just for you. I’m worried you’re giving everything you have to everyone else.” Then offer something concrete. Could you take one responsibility off his plate? Can you arrange a standing Sunday morning coffee so he has somewhere to be while his family handles itself? Could you remind him that taking two hours for himself isn’t abandoning anyone?
His wife and co-workers may have legitimate struggles, but he cannot be the solution to all of them indefinitely
Wayne says:
You don’t need to tell him to “get back into running.” He knows. His issue is as much mental now as it is physical. After two years away from the fitness and physique that defined him, he isn’t thinking about getting started again — he’s stressing about how far he’s fallen
Athletes are funny that way, and trust me, your brother sees himself as one. They set big goals and high standards, grind hard and beat themselves up when they don’t measure up. He takes the same approach into running, working and caring for his family
But the fast, fit athlete isn’t staring back in the mirror anymore. He notices runners while he’s driving home from another late shift and gets into his head. He sees old running buddies and feels embarrassed that his legs lost definition and he can’t trade training tales
You can help get him get over a big first hurdle by simply getting him moving again. Ask him to take a walk with you, and suggest his wife joins, too. The fresh air and movement will do them both good. More important, he’ll realize that it’s OK to give himself some grace and a little time each day
I bet he’ll soon start mixing in a jog. Twenty minutes out will become 45. When he feels some fatigue and ache, he’ll be tough on himself, but he’ll also frame it as a challenge that drives him into his next outing
He’ll touch that fitness and routine, and the time alone to play and process life, and he’ll start remembering exactly why running is so important to him. And the needle will naturally start moving back toward the balanced life that he temporarily lost
[Wayne and Wanda: Being dependable these days feels like I’m on a lonely one-way street]
[Wayne and Wanda: I can’t stand when my husband says ‘we’ when he really means ‘me’]
[Wayne and Wanda: I love living in Alaska, but family group chats leave me feeling resentful and lonely]
