Smoked

Ow. Today I ache. Maybe because it is rainy and generally icky outside. Maybe because I ran wind sprints with Middle Child yesterday. Our usual haunt for Girly Bonding Time is a lovely bistro/bakery, but in light of my bottom line that seemed like the wrong place to go. She wanted to run in preparation for next year's hoped-for spot on the track team, and Little Bit had dance class at the church. I figured Katie could run around the church parking lot, and I would walk while we waited for Erin's class.
Except that Katie wanted to see if mom would "smoke her" (or not!) in a race. Riiiight. She weighs maybe 70 pounds soaking wet, has a strong, not-quite-twelve-year-old body, runs like the wind, and apparently has a sick sense of humor. I think my left arm weighs 70 pounds, and it is clear to the naked eye that this body hasn't seen twelve in some time. I walk very fast, but only run when chased. I couldn't tell if she was joking, so we ran. We worked on her form. We ran until we could not breathe and our legs felt alternately numb and jelly-like. And we laughed.
And she smoked me. Good girl.