A couple weekends ago we traveled to Pittsburgh for, my husband, Brian to participate in the Pittsburgh Triathlon, his first race. But, friends, this story doesn’t begin there.

On December 16, 2013, Brian and I woke up before the sun rose and headed to the local hospital for his outpatient procedure. He had grown up his entire life with recurrent ear infections, and after many months of medicine and failed attempts to give him relief, his ENT doctor ordered a scan that showed something in his middle ear. It could have been any number of mild, easily treatable things, but when my phone rang, four hours into the surgery that was only supposed to be two, my heart began to race. I answered and heard the voice of the operating physician and the first words I remember him speaking were, “we need to transport him, which do you prefer, Hershey or Hopkins?”

I had been leaning against the wall in the hallway, and as he spoke, my back slid down the wall until I was just sitting with tears streaming down my cheeks. It was just like an overwhelming, emotional moment from a movie. I felt fearful and paralyzed. He began to explain that my husband’s brain had herniated into his middle ear and that the hospital was not staffed with a neurology team equipped to care for him.

I hung up the phone and immediately sent out a frantic text to all of our family and friends asking for prayer, then called his mom. With a laptop in front of her and Google at her fingertips, she searched, we talked and decided together on Hopkins. Texts poured in with written prayers, amazing support and affirmation that Hopkins was an excellent choice. In the midst of so much uncertainty, I felt washed over with grace.

Four additional hours had passed before he was stable and out of the operating room. In the interim, loved ones gathered to sit with me, and the ones that could not physically be there continued emailing, texting and calling.

His transfer to Hopkins was arranged, after a night in the ICU, and a staff of amazingly talented and kind doctors awaited his arrival. He rested hooked up to devices to measure his vitals and in a bed that weighed him regularly. For the time leading up to his second surgery, it would constantly remind him that he was nearing 300 pounds. It was then that he resolved his determination to make a full recovery and be a better steward of the body he was blessed with.

The surgery was successful, and the recovery was long, but immediately he began making choices that reflected the promise he made to himself. He began eating appropriate portions and making better food choices and within one month he had lost 20 pounds. Four months post op; he was given the clearance to return to normal activities and to begin lightly exercising. Easing into it, he began walking on the treadmill a few times a week and day by day he began feeling stronger and so much better.

On Father’s Day, instead of opting for the usual huge breakfast and lazy day, we made plans to go biking around the Gettysburg Battlefield with my brother and his family. I can say with certainty, that was the day he fell in love with biking.

That day he rode the mountain bike he had since college, his bike that had only one working gear and a broken seat. Despite those circumstances, he pushed through the difficulties and found such joy and fulfillment in the ride.

Since that day, cycling has become a part of him. He’s logged hundreds of miles, made so many friends, and has lost 95 pounds.

Before our trip to Pittsburgh this year, we looked back at our photos from last years trip. The difference is astounding!

Brian, you are an inspiration of commitment and selflessness. Thank you for being an example to all of us by caring for your body and making healthy choices, and for also training outside of family time, even if it means waking up at 4:00 am. We are your biggest cheerleaders and are so proud of you every day, but that Saturday when you crossed the finish line in Pittsburgh there are no words that can accurately describe the joy and pride we felt. You are amazing, and we love you! We cannot wait to cheer you on at your race tomorrow!

In the midst of growth, often you can’t see all of the small steps taking you forward.  So, sometimes you have to look back just to see how far you’ve come.  Here’s a look back to Brian in 2011 (left) and 2014 (right).