So I was at the track today -- too late in the day. It must have been 90 degrees out! But I was there and this is Monday so I still had my can-do attitude on. I just walked two miles, but given the heat it really felt like something.
Middle Munchkin wanted to walk a mile, as well. So I agreed to go with her. She suggested that if we ran, we could get done faster, get home sooner, yada, yada, yada... like I'm going to run.
So she talked me into running just the straight portion of the track on one side each round. She ran. I just sort of jogged a quick shuffle.
On the fourth lap, however, she took off and I thought to myself, "Those are still some fairly short legs she's got going on there. I should be able to outrun that kid if I put my mind to it."
Unfortunately, she was already a number of steps ahead of me at this point. So I picked up the pace. I ran like I haven't ran for... maybe ever. And just as I was about one step behind her, she took a peek at me over her shoulder and picked up the pace. That kid stayed one step ahead of me the whole way. I kept putting on the gas, but I couldn't catch her.
She was breathing hard when we reached the end, but mostly just smiling real big because I hadn't caught her. I, on the other hand, was gasping for air like a big old fish that has just been landed. I couldn't even catch my breath well enough to speak to her until we were nearly back to the parking lot.
She suggested that if we did this daily, I would improve and would eventually be able to catch her. I do have longer legs (for now), after all. Unfortunately, I think she would keep getting faster, as well, and probably at a more accelerated pace.
I think my days of being able to physically catch my kids (at least that kid) are long past me.