I plan on writing more thoughts about my marathon on here later this week, but for now please allow me to brag about my sporty older daughter. Yesterday was a banner day for Phoebe. First we swam at my health club. I did laps while she played in the "training" pool. Then we headed over to the Doggie Dash, a 1.5-mile fun run that benefits the Oregon Humane Society. Phoebe's wonderful teacher from last year (and marathon cheerleader), Joanne, encourages her kids to do it.
I was there to help keep track of the yellow-bandanad kids as they dodged dogs and weaved among walkers. Before the start, I gave a quick talk to Phoebe's good friend Liza, a zealous runner, about not running too fast as it wasn't that kind of race. Turns out I was talking to the wrong girl. Phoebe took off like the rest of the kids, but I soon lost track of her in the crowd. About halfway, Joanne told me Phoebe was with the assistant teacher, Kelly. I had no clue where Kelly was so that didn't tell me anything, but I wasn't concerned. With about 400 meters left in the race, I spotted Phoebe at the head of the pack, and I had to turn on the gas to catch up with her. I realized she was intent on coming in first. No sense in reeling her in at that point, so I cut a corner to get a photo of her crossing the finish line. She finished flushed and proud. I was stunned she had come in first out of her chums and, I'll admit it, I was proud of her because she'd poured her heart into the run.
As we drove to the third event in her unusual triathlon--her final spring league soccer game--I asked her if she'd planned on running so fast. She responded very intently, "I didn't have a plan, Mom."
Phoebe was on the attack at her soccer game, as usual, once again scoring five goals. While I was incredibly proud of her prowess, what I loved best was the exuberant arm pumps and jumps she did every time she scored. All in all, the day was a great Mother's Day gift.