Tough Mother
I can't help but laugh at my lack of agility as of late as I sit on an ice pack nursing my hip from last weekend's yard work extravaganza. I often underestimate my abilities and pay the price later, but who can blame me for envisioning myself as fit and fast as my children? Recently they challenged me to an outdoor Parkour obstacle course that looked easy. Why not? I thought, imagining myself showing off my cat like reflexes and surely matching their pace, not my age. I aspired to be the fastest woman of the Parkour Challenge and confident this Tough Mother could outpace anyone!
As I surveyed the course of wooden obstacles, I imagined the CIA training course of my youth. In my twenties, there were no obstacles that could hold me back and everyone banded together to accomplish the course. Over the wall, despite my small stature, a test of fitness and badge of pride earned!
Somewhat lacking the chutzpah to immediately tackle the Parkour course, I carefully strategized my opponents, or children in this case, who ran over and over the course in record time. My confidence grew as my youngest son, a mere 8-years-old, hurdled his body over the largest structure.
When my husband clocked a ten-second near record breaking time in his 'over 40' age group my ego immediately seized control. "Go Mom, Mom, Mom," my children chanted as I pictured myself planting a hand on the largest obstacle and vaulting myself over with the finesse of a female Urban Warrior. Surely my legs would leap gracefully over the lower hurdles thanks to years of pounding the pavement in running shoes. "Sign me up," I exclaimed!
As I surveyed my four children's times ranging from 10 seconds to 16 seconds, I only cared to beat my husband and show the children that moms are equally strong! As I approached the starting line, children cheering behind me, I imagined myself clearing the obstacles as Xena, Warrior Princess or Wonder Woman, leaving a positive impact on the young impressionable crowd.
Starting strong, I forcefully whacked my shin attempting to hurdle the first large structure, with far less grace and success than the child in the picture demonstrates. A large black and blue welt began to develop as I summoned the courage to 'crawl' on. Seemingly fast but surprisingly less graceful than the gazelle I had imagined myself, I managed to hoist myself over the 'pony horse' structures without further damage. Running fast to the finish line, bruised from leg to ego, I remained upright and confident that I would acquire a respectful time for the course.
"42," the gentleman shouted. Jogging up to him I whispered, "I'm actually 44, but what was my time?"
"42 seconds," he repeated.
"Did you say fourteen seconds?" I inquired a bit louder.
"42," he repeated again, quietly this time, while politely smiling.
Unfortunately 42 was my time and not my age (though I often still tell my kids I'm 38). Yikes! I was not even close to the record board. I'm fairly certain I was handily beaten in the over-60 category as well. A humbling experience after all.
Luckily my kids were gracious enough to not pour salt in my open wound as they continued to try to best each other. Turns out my husband also suffered an injury (likely showing off for me, for which I am flattered) the next go 'round.
Declaring it was time to move on before sustaining more damage, we mounted our bikes and continued on our Forced Family Fun route. #FFF Biking, definitely something we can do as a family! Respectable as running long distances and less dangerous than Parkour, I thought to myself.
Though not a tough Parkour Warrior, I'm one Tough Mother willing to tackle any obstacle whether Forced Family Fun or racecourse. Parenting is often the ultimate challenge!
With renewed respect for those who take on extreme fitness challenges, I am thankful I feel strong and youthful enough to tackle agility courses, albeit successfully in my mind! 😉
As I surveyed the course of wooden obstacles, I imagined the CIA training course of my youth. In my twenties, there were no obstacles that could hold me back and everyone banded together to accomplish the course. Over the wall, despite my small stature, a test of fitness and badge of pride earned!
Somewhat lacking the chutzpah to immediately tackle the Parkour course, I carefully strategized my opponents, or children in this case, who ran over and over the course in record time. My confidence grew as my youngest son, a mere 8-years-old, hurdled his body over the largest structure.
When my husband clocked a ten-second near record breaking time in his 'over 40' age group my ego immediately seized control. "Go Mom, Mom, Mom," my children chanted as I pictured myself planting a hand on the largest obstacle and vaulting myself over with the finesse of a female Urban Warrior. Surely my legs would leap gracefully over the lower hurdles thanks to years of pounding the pavement in running shoes. "Sign me up," I exclaimed!
As I surveyed my four children's times ranging from 10 seconds to 16 seconds, I only cared to beat my husband and show the children that moms are equally strong! As I approached the starting line, children cheering behind me, I imagined myself clearing the obstacles as Xena, Warrior Princess or Wonder Woman, leaving a positive impact on the young impressionable crowd.
Starting strong, I forcefully whacked my shin attempting to hurdle the first large structure, with far less grace and success than the child in the picture demonstrates. A large black and blue welt began to develop as I summoned the courage to 'crawl' on. Seemingly fast but surprisingly less graceful than the gazelle I had imagined myself, I managed to hoist myself over the 'pony horse' structures without further damage. Running fast to the finish line, bruised from leg to ego, I remained upright and confident that I would acquire a respectful time for the course."42," the gentleman shouted. Jogging up to him I whispered, "I'm actually 44, but what was my time?"
"42 seconds," he repeated.
"Did you say fourteen seconds?" I inquired a bit louder.
"42," he repeated again, quietly this time, while politely smiling.
Unfortunately 42 was my time and not my age (though I often still tell my kids I'm 38). Yikes! I was not even close to the record board. I'm fairly certain I was handily beaten in the over-60 category as well. A humbling experience after all.
Luckily my kids were gracious enough to not pour salt in my open wound as they continued to try to best each other. Turns out my husband also suffered an injury (likely showing off for me, for which I am flattered) the next go 'round.
Declaring it was time to move on before sustaining more damage, we mounted our bikes and continued on our Forced Family Fun route. #FFF Biking, definitely something we can do as a family! Respectable as running long distances and less dangerous than Parkour, I thought to myself.
Though not a tough Parkour Warrior, I'm one Tough Mother willing to tackle any obstacle whether Forced Family Fun or racecourse. Parenting is often the ultimate challenge!
With renewed respect for those who take on extreme fitness challenges, I am thankful I feel strong and youthful enough to tackle agility courses, albeit successfully in my mind! 😉
 |
| Six years ago but who's counting? |
Comments
Post a Comment