Living the Dream

When my kids were babies, I dreamed of the day at least one of them would be my jogging partner. Sometimes I'd see a parent and child running the Peachtree Roadrace together and wipe a little tear from my eye. I was 14 when I started jogging regularly, about the same age Georgia was when she finally joined me.

So far she's been the only one. Trying to get Jack to jog--or even walk--with me is like trying to coax Larry Flynt out of his wheelchair with an issue of the Watchtower. And Lo won't do anything physical unless it requires wearing a full-face helmet or pulling a trigger. But I was happy with Georgia. Until our jog on Friday. Evidently, those crack-of-dawn drills she did for crew improved her swiftness and endurance, but they sure didn't make her any nicer:

George: Oh my god. We might as well be walking.

TR: My knees feel like somebody screwed them on too tight.

George: Stop being a baby.

TR: This is the same pace we always go.

George: It is NOT the same pace. C'mon! I'm going to have to run again later today if you don't pick up the speed.

TR: You burn the same amount of calories whether you run or walk the distance.

George: Right, and the tooth fairy sometimes leaves the money in Mommy's purse.

TR: I don't know how you can go so fast, anyway, carrying all those grudges. Sprint ahead if you want.

George: I can't run by myself; I didn't bring my iPod.


Jessica said...

I love Georgia.

Kathy said...

It sounds like I won't be able to jog with GA any more either. Some days I actually feel like I'm moving backwards.

GA - you'll understand when you hit 40 or so.

Rupert said...

nice post, the whole thing w the pic etc. - it would make a nice sidebar in Parenting or some such mag

ga said...

Look how cute and pudgy I am!

Tania Rochelle said...

Yeah, you were sweet too.

Ty said...

That's funny.

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