The kids whine a little as I rouse them out of bed. I promise Swiss rolls, a chocolate cake filled with vanilla cream snack as a reward for hanging out with me. Then I discover that someone ate my prizes the night before.
But they come with me anyway. We talk about video games and school. We look at the neighborhood and point out anything interesting.
I’m running, but my legs are very heavy. The kids humor me by skipping and running circles around my slow figure. They even walk (so embarrassing).
I promise treats when they come home. And we get ready for school. Then the fighting and normalcy begins.
Happy birthday to me. *sigh*
This year, I move to the end of my age group. Then onto the master’s division.
I don’t feel like I’ve mastered anything. Master seems like something big, you were super awesome and now you get to bask in your glory as a has been. Maybe …
Or maybe not…
This week has been difficult. My mantra has been, “I’m getting too old for this.”
Too old to put up with self-doubt. Too old to put up with negativity. And too old to feel like … well, what I feel like now.
Wisdom is supposed to come with age. I feel like I’m as smart as I was in kindergarten. I know the basics, how to tie my shoe and cook, but I have a lot to learn.
So I’m knocking goals off my bucket list and taking my life back. I’m going to run a marathon before hitting the masters age (please support my charity at Mountain mama for Team RWB.)
I also plan on hitting the track again and join a local track group so I can get into sprints, shot put and discus again.
But this year, my main goal is putting fun back in my life. I’ve worked so long that I forgot how to have fun. Hopefully, my kids will help as they know how to have fun more than anyone I know.
It’s time to take a leap of faith. Geronimo!