Vital statistics

Name: Evia Nelson

Age: 31

Height: 5'4"

Current weight: 160 lbs

Pounds lost: 35

The moment I knew I was a success: When I finished running my first marathon. That opened the door to everything else.

I was only 20 the spring I met my first husband, Charles. I was working in a restaurant and attending North Carolina State University, studying architecture. We were engaged by October and married the following July.

I was the thinnest I ever was—weighing in at a mere 135 pounds—and it seemed as if my picture-perfect life had begun.

After the wedding, we moved 45 minutes from campus, away from all my friends. Charles worked nights, which meant I'd come home from school to an empty house, with the television, soda and chips as my sole companions.

Before I knew it, my marriage was unraveling—and my figure was ballooning.

We tried to make it work, but in May 1996, I graduated and became more serious about my goals. He didn't. Our diverging paths never reconnected, and by the following February, we'd separated for good.

I snagged a great entry-level position in Raleigh as a project engineer for a mechanical contractor, but inside I felt like a failure. I was only 23 and already had the divorce label tacked to my forehead.


To ease the pain, I'd shovel in whatever food seemed most soothing. I'd speed-dial Papa John's and devour a large pizza and several beers. I ate tons of fast food and drank milkshakes like crazy.

At first I didn't realize how much weight I was gaining, and by the time I reached 195 pounds, I just didn't care.

After all, this wasn't the first time I'd been heavy. I was raised in the South on fried okra and fried chicken, and I was 5-foot-4 and a solid 170 pounds when I joined the high school basketball team. Back then the weight came off easily. I got down to a size 12 and soon became one of the fastest players on the team. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

The Awakening


About a year and a half after my divorce, I stumbled on an article about an overweight woman who'd run a marathon. I immediately identified with her story. Although it had been 3 1/2 years since I'd last laced up my sneakers, I set a big goal for myself: running the May 2000 Pittsburgh Marathon. (I chose it because I wanted a flat marathon far enough away for a weekend trip.) I'm goal driven, so giving myself five months to get in shape seemed the perfect kick-start to change.

Friends and family had one reaction: "What are you thinking?" I understood their skepticism, but I mapped out my training, starting with mile 1 and working up from there. I was so terrified of failure that even when we had a blizzard—rare in Raleigh—I had a friend drive me to the gym in his Jeep so I could run.

Source: http://www.msn.com/

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