On Sunday, Dave and I took Nora and her friend to the park. After playing and climbing on everything they could, the girls asked us to play tag. Assuming this would be a quick game and I could resume sitting on the grass in a matter of minutes, I didn't hesitate to play.
After about fifteen minutes of chasing these girls around the field, however, I called time-out, slowly walked over to where Dave was lounging on the grass, and requested back-up. I could NOT catch these girls. And unless he wanted to watch his wife suffer great humiliation and die of cardiac arrest in the middle of the field, he'd need to end this game for me.
He looked at me as if I was nuts. How hard could it be to catch a nine-year-old?
Hard!
Dave finally cornered Nora's friend and, using that long reach of his, tagged her. The game was over. Thank God! Our hamstrings were on their last strings. He, then, joined me on the grass and we commiserated together. When did we get so old?
The girls, also tired of running, (at least we weren't the only ones) asked if we could go on a bike ride. So, we helped each other off the grass, seated ourselves on our bikes, and coasted all the way home.
So Nora may NOT be a long distance runner.... yet. But that girl can sprint! And make her mama feel every bit of the forty-five-year-old that she is.
Luckily, Dave and I have some long bike rides scheduled this summer to prove to ourselves that "we've still got it."
Keep on keeping on-
S-
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