Boy #1 is on the swim team. He's my all grown up kid, but next to the big highschoolers on the team, he's really still just a peanut. These pictures are from his first (and only, so far) swim meet. He was giddy with excitement and I swear pride was oozing from me that day. You would have taken a paper towel and wiped the pride off of my arm. It was thick. I was proud and unapologetic. He loves swim practice and he's so focused and works so hard to reach his goals (he gets that from his father, btw) that he continually amazes his coaches.
*go Peanut, go!*
The swim team is at the pool 5 days a week, but my boy only practices two days. Boy #2 is taking swim lessons right now as he has every intention of following in big brother's foot steps. He occasionally practices with the team before his lessons and he's already impressed the coaches with the speed with which he picked up doing flip turns (I'm not sure I will ever master those things). (There is a point to all of this, I swear).
The swim team is taking the entire month of August off from practicing for various, unimportant reasons. However, we're still up there twice a week for #2's lessons and #1 is having some serious chlorine withdrawls so we decided to swim some laps together the other night while #2 had his lesson.
I'll. Be. Damned. There I was minding my own business swimming along and I looked down at the bottom of the pool and realized the tiles were moving by me much more quickly than they did a few weeks ago when I swam. Could it be? Is it true? Could my workouts in the gym have made me a stronger, and therefore a faster, swimmer? No way!!
Isn't it funny how everything is connected like that? But wait ~ the title of this post is "Run, baby, Run" and I've only talked about swimming.
Today, while at the gym I was feeling pretty good so I decided to take a little walk on the treadmill when I was finished with my bike workout. The walk was feeling good, so I decided to up the speed and little bit and well, look at that: I was jogging. Like for reals! I jogged for a minute and then walked for two. Then I jogged for another minute and walked for two. I did that for 20 minutes and then realized ~ um, I think I just did (almost) the first day of C25K.
And. I. Didn't. Die. In fact, I'd say each running minute was a little easier than the last. By the last one I was in a rhythm and I was feeling good. My foot didn't hurt at all, but the proof will be in the morning when I get out of bed. Will she walk or will she hit the floor? I'll let ya know.
I just may have a runner buried deep within me yet. Suddenly, I believe that my dreams can become my reality.
Also, I was nominated for a bloggy award this afternoon (honestly, I didn't even know anyone read my blog!!). I'll get to that tomorrow.
Cheers, Y'all! (I can say that, I was born in KY) :)