Song; “Try,” Pink
CALIFORNIA, Pa. — “Maybe I’ll beat you mom.”
“We’ll see.”
My family was preparing to run the Freezin’ 5K. Sam had her new pink sneakers on — who knew kids could grow two shoe sizes in three months — and sported her shirt from the race. Her oldest brother raced with us, while the youngest sat in our stroller.
I thought it would be an easy course (see sidebar on the race page). But as we made the first turn, I saw a big hill and my daughter standing on a plateau.
“Come on mommy!”
“I’m coming,” I said as I pushed the stroller now carrying both of her brothers up the hill.
We were together for the first mile, then the powers that be intervened. My oldest baby — wasn’t a baby anymore — she is a strong-willed 6-year-old.
As we readied for the second lap, she headed up the hill and didn’t stop. The California University student who led the first lap on a little yellow BMX bike paced her for the rest of the run.
Her friend, and my hero of the race, kept her on the course, made sure she got some water, and was her third biggest cheerleader (behind me and her dad of course).
All I could do was watch in awe as I realized how much she’s grown up. And how much I’ve grown up as well.
I’ve never known what I’ve wanted to be when I grew up. During the race I was proud to be that girl’s mommy.
I can figure out the rest when I grow up.