My son competed in the district track meet this afternoon. If you've followed my stance on exercise at all, you understand what a strange choice of activity this seems for him. (My dear husband was a swim team demi-god and continues to go to the gym without coercion, but our son generally tends to take on my traits. Until today).
Here is how he looked:
A respectable 5'6 1/2" on the standing long jump
Running hurdles. Seriously, hurdles.
All out for the 100 meter dash
And still smiling.
This is me in track:
My favorite teacher, Miss Baker, was the coach and my friend Debbie begged me to join with her. I probably bitched every single day about the cold and the shorts and the running. Because I sure would now.
So glad the boy has got a few of his dad's genes going on.
