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resonates in these words from
     Mark Twain. I came across them after I met Amy. They made me think of her.
    “The two most important days in your life are the day you are born, and the day you
     find out why.”
    Amy Barnes was born on November 10, 1973. It took her years of beatings, losing her
     children, and 490 pounds to find out why.

LINDSAY BECK
    So many of us know people who’ve battled a medical crisis, or we ourselves have endured
     one. When WebMD ran its magazine’s annual “Health Heroes” section in 2006, a small
     blurb about a young woman named Lindsay Beck packed a big wow factor. Lindsay had
     accomplished so much. Never did we think we’d find someone who, at age thirty-five,
     already had a fascinating ten-years-later tale to share. But Lindsay does. And oddly
     enough, her story has an intimate connection with an NBC colleague whom I know and
     love.

    When you meet Lindsay Beck for the first time, you feel like you’ve met her before.
     She’s got that kind of face. An effortless white smile, fresh skin, a chestnut ponytail,
     and blue-green eyes that make you close yours. Hmm. Did I buy peaches from her at the farmers’ market? Was she in that Ivory soap
     commercial? Lindsay is a thirty-five-year-old who looks twentysomething, burdened by nothing.
     Well, ha. What a joke. If the inside of Lindsay’s body could read that description,
     it would laugh. It would throw back its formerly ravaged, toxic head and snicker at
     the words. A C-shaped scar on Lindsay’sneck is the trapdoor to her medical past. When you lift it, you see two rival stories:
     a double helix of dark and light.
    The San Francisco Bay suburbs where Lindsay grew up are now some of the most expensive
     zip codes in the country. But back in 1976, when she was born, the dot-coms and their
     megamillions were nonexistent. Merrilee and Michael Nohr, Lindsay’s parents, fell
     in love in high school, got married, and soon realized they were not meant to be together.
     They divorced when Lindsay was four and her brother was just one. Her mother soon
     became involved with the father of Lindsay’s best friend from preschool. The dream
     that little girls have of becoming sisters with their closest friend came true. Her
     new stepdad, Bob, also had a second daughter, so a blended family of six was formed.
     Lindsay describes her childhood as “vanilla.”
    “Not in a bad way,” she explains. “It was safe, full of sports, school, family, and
     a sense of community.”
    The divorce did create some challenges every other weekend. That’s when Lindsay and
     her brother would stay with their father, who had not yet embarked on his two future
     marriages.
    “My mom would say, ‘Here’s the toothbrushes, here’s the clothes, you’re in charge,’ ”
     recalls Lindsay. “But my dad was a bachelor, so I can remember calling my mom and
     saying, ‘Dad has no food; we’re eating ice. But don’t worry, I’m making sure everything’s
     okay.’ ”
    The bulk of Lindsay’s family life was consistent and loving, filled with swim meets,
     soccer games, and trips to the beach. Her mom and dad did not go to college, but Bob
     did. He felt strongly that Lindsay should, too. When it was time to choose a school,
     Bob guided Lindsay away from the California university where her high school friends
     and boyfriend were headed, and toward the University of Colorado in Boulder.
    “Bob sat me down and said, ‘The choice is yours, but this is a mistake you’ll regret
     the rest of your life. At Boulder, they have study-abroadprograms, you’ll meet all new people, and the opportunities there are enormous. If
     you follow your friends, where is that going to get you?’ ”
    Lindsay listened and Bob was right. Her roommates were from Minnesota, Mississippi,
     Louisiana, and Ohio, and as Lindsay puts it, “that began to break the vanilla.” In
     May 1998, she graduated from the University of Colorado in Boulder with a major in