A client recently came to me -- let's call him Pete -- who weighed in the mid- 200s. Heavy most of his life, he was finally ready to do something to change his high stress, eat-on-the-run, junk-food lifestyle and begin taking care of himself. Since I no longer take on personal training clients, I worked with him on his nutrition program and sent him to the best trainer I know in New York, Bill Humphries, who put him on the remarkable Body Attack program.

To make a long story short, it's been about six months, and this guy -- who could barely walk a flight of steps without puffing when we first met -- recently ran an eight-and-a-half-minute mile on the treadmill. He's dropped 40 pounds and looks and feels better than he ever has.

Now here's the thing.

Pete's dad is an ex-Marine who heavily valued traditionally masculine behavior -- "toughing it out," "boys don't cry," Monday Night Football ... you get the drift. Pete's kind of an artsy, creative type and felt as if he could never really please his dad in the testosterone-driven-activity department. What's more, Pete's early attempts at sports weren't very successful, and his father teased him mercilessly for his poor performance.

On more than one occasion his father said to him, only half jokingly, "Man, Pete, you run like a girl!"

That comment, in the way that certain childhood incidents have of sticking to the flypaper of our unconscious and remaining there long past the time that we bother to think about them, has stayed with Pete all of his life. And in some not-fully-understood way, it's kept him well stocked in negative feelings about exercise for all of his adult life.