I started this post on our 11th anniversary. That morning my always-beautiful, fun, happy wife told me how great it was that our anniversary fell on a Saturday—just like our wedding day. It felt like the right time to write about what an incredible partner she is and how she’s made me a better person.
First, I love the competitive spark she brings to life. If you ever play cards, bowl, golf, Wii Boxing, or backgammon with her, watch out. She brings real heat to a matchup. Maybe it’s from growing up with both parents as high school coaches, or maybe she just loves to win—and honestly, that’s a great quality.
I had my own competitive streak or I never would’ve convinced her to marry me. But since we met, I’ve found myself braver about trying things I probably never would have on my own.
Take running, for example. When we met, I couldn’t run a block without gasping for air. My only exercise was lifting weights—nothing impressive. Then Mrs. Cubert, a star runner in high school and college, gently pushed me. Before long I was running 5Ks at sub-8-minute miles.
She also got me on skis. I owned gear that sat in the basement until she said, “We’re going skiing. You’re not letting that stuff just sit there.” So we hit Minnesota’s slopes, tackled black diamonds with zero technique, and had a blast crashing our way down. Happy wife, happy husband.
She’s taken me on adventures I never would’ve joined otherwise. Thanks to her climbing friends, I found myself scaling a beginner face in Moab right off the highway. Since then, I’ve done it maybe once more—indoor climbing gyms don’t count.
We’ve sailed on Lake Superior and nearly got shipwrecked when an 80 mph headwind hit during a freak storm. She was calm as a cucumber, napping in the cabin. That kept me from completely losing it, though I’ll admit I scared myself a few times that day.
Now we’re raising twins, so life has changed in a big way. Not too long ago she got into kettlebells. The gym we go to is the kind where a one-hour class feels like the first day at Navy SEAL training—think burpees, weighted ropes, pull-ups, double kettlebell squat presses. It’s a smarter take on CrossFit with tons of full-body work. If there’s a tough thing out there, Mrs. Cubert will go after it—and bring me along.
In business, we push each other. She took a big leap and started a clinic with other practitioners. Her patient volume is through the roof, yet she still spends time with the kids and teaches part-time at the gym. That gives me no excuse to stay complacent in my day job.
Her cooking is another standout. She’s a scratch cook who turns out amazing vegetarian meals—probably the best around the Twin Cities. After a long day, nothing beats walking into the house to the smell of dinner and family.
We’re mostly on the same page with money, but it’s not always easy. She cares more about helping people get healthier than making a fast buck. I’m the one who sneaks in ideas about raising treatment rates and cutting expenses, always with good intentions, of course.
I had to sell her on the idea of rental properties. At first I was over at our first rental every free hour, and it took two months after closing to get a tenant. She stuck with me through those growing pains. Today I’d struggle to start a new rental without her elbow grease and her opinion on paint colors.
When I found the early retirement and financial independence community, I did what a lot of “fix-it” types do: I got excited and dove in full speed. I started pitching wild ideas—“Sell the car, move into a condo next to my office”—without really bringing her along. She always gave me the look, and usually a slow, thoughtful no. I was moving too fast.
I went all in on frugality at first. The bike became my hero: 10-mile round trips with a trailer, hauling packages through snow to the post office. I imagined errands done by bike forever. Then came grocery day.
Her: “I need to go grocery shopping.”
Me: “You’re taking the bike and trailer, right?”
Her: “No.” (That look said it all.)
I pushed too hard. And when I suggested Costco, she was reluctant. I hyped it up—“We’ll save a ton!” She sighed but went along. Fortunately, we already had good habits thanks to her: cooking at home and buying kids’ clothes from consignment shops. She loves a good bargain, and I love that about her.
I didn’t date looking for a frugal superstar. I wanted someone attractive, witty, and smart to share a life with. I hit the jackpot. She got lucky too—she ended up with me, a not-bad-looking goofball who thinks he’s smarter than he is. But hey, I make great kids.
Finally, if you want a life with no regrets, show appreciation to your partner often. Talk openly. Make sure you’re aligned on long-term goals. If you don’t, things like early retirement will stay harder to reach.