Cruel to Be Kind: Part 2 of 3: Saying no can save a child’s life

Chapter Nine

As I held and comforted Max I could picture only too clearly the embarrassment school sports day would cause him. It was supposed to be fun, when all the school came together to show off their fitness and agility skills in healthy competition – although I didn’t remember my school sports days with relish. I wasn’t overweight, but neither was I very good at sport, and regardless of how hard I tried,I always came near the end in a race – not last, but well back from the leaders. In high jump and long jump my legs didn’t seem able to generate the necessary spring to propel me high enough or far enough, and I remember how self-conscious I felt in the qualifying heats when I tried and failed, with the rest of my class watching. Then there was the relay race, in which we all had to participate, but I could never run as fast as the person passing the baton to me or to whom I passed it, so I always felt I’d let down the team. The fun races at the end were OK – the egg and spoon race, sack race and three-legged race, but they were just for fun and held little in the way of true competition or achievement. Looking back, my performance was probably average for my age, but it didn’t feel like that at the time, so I had every sympathy for Max, whose obesity put him at such a disadvantage in most physical activities.

‘Come on, love,’ I said, passing him a tissue. ‘Dry your eyes. We’ll sort something out.’

‘Can I stay at home, please, and pretend I’m ill, like I did last year?’

I helped him wipe his eyes. ‘If that’s the only way, but first I want to speak to your teacher and see what she has to say.’ Given how sensitive Mrs Marshall was to Max’s limitations, tailoring his involvement in PE lessons, I wanted to discuss it with her first.

Eventually Max’s tears subsided and I put my arm around him and gave him a hug. With more reassurance that he wasn’t to worry about sports day and no one would force him to participate, he lay down, ready for sleep.

‘I wish I wasn’t so big,’ he said wistfully. ‘It’s because I eat too much, isn’t it?’

‘It’s the most likely reason, yes. We get energy from the food we eat and what we don’t need is stored in our body as fat.’

‘So how do you get smaller?’ he asked. Cleary the subject hadn’t been discussed at home.

‘By eating a little less each day, especially sweet things. And exercise, like walking rather than going in the car, which you are doing here with me.’

‘Why don’t my sisters and mum do that?’

‘I don’t know, love.’

‘My dad says he likes big women.’

‘Does he?’

‘Shall I try to eat less sweet things so I can run in sports day?’

‘Yes, but it takes quite a long time. You won’t suddenly see a change. It takes many months to lose weight, sometimes years. But please don’t worry about sports day. I’ll sort something out.’ And so the conversation ended as it had begun, with me trying to allay Max’s fears about sports day.

I sat with him a while longer to make sure he was ready to go to sleep and wouldn’t lie there worrying. It was late and we had school in the morning, so I didn’t suggest he read for a while. When I was satisfied he was slowly drifting off to sleep I kissed his forehead, said goodnight and came out.

Paula was already in bed asleep and Adrian, aware that I was spending longer than usual with Max, had come up and got ready for bed and was now in bed waiting for me to say goodnight. Adrian’s school had already had their annual sports day, and because Adrian was reasonably fit and athletic he’d met the day with excitement – a challenge – not dread. And he’d done very well.