Two Miles with Miss Fourteen

Ever since the children were little, we have tried to eat dinner at the table as a family. I suppose it started as an excuse to talk to the children, and to get them to talk – to tell stories about what we had done during the day. When I say “we”, I of course mean “everybody except me”, because nobody ever asks what I have done. I complained about it once – and my other half stopped the children:

“Why don’t you ask Dad what he did today?”

“What did you do today Dad?”

I had their undivided attention, and launched into a really interesting overview of a workflow I was building to integrate two business systems. My other half waited for me to finish, and then said this:

“And that’s why we don’t ask Dad what he did today.”

They all laughed.

Anyway. I sat down for dinner this evening and Miss 19 sat opposite, looking like thunder.

“Are we going running tonight then?”, I asked, in the most uplifting tone I could summon.

No answer.

“It’s training night!”

“I’m too tired.”

I very nearly lost my shit instantly. Thankfully Miss 14 interrupted.

“I’ll come running with you Dad!”

It’s very difficult to talk Miss 14 out of things – she is perhaps the most optimistic, persuasive, instantly likeable people pleaser I have ever known. And that’s how we ended up getting ready to go running together an hour after dinner.


We ran a loop into town, along the high street, and back towards home. Normally the training consists of intervals of several minutes running with a minute walk inbetween, but I wondered how far my younger daughter could run, given that I had never been out with her before. It’s worth noting that she goes to a special school – a sports academy, so does some form of sport every day.

I worried throughout the two miles that I would be causing some sort of lasting damage to her legs, so repeatedly slowed her to a gentle jog – asking again and again if she was ok – if she was tired.

“I’m fine”

Towards the end I think the people-pleaser side of her nature had kicked in, and she was actually knackered, but I didn’t say anything. While running we talked about all sorts of things (or at least, the all sorts of things that run through the mind of a 14 year old girl – mainly about her friend who’s online accounts had been hacked earlier in the evening after she told a stranger her passwords).

We both agreed that perhaps it might be best if she doesn’t tell her big sister how far she ran.

Talking of big sisters, apparently I’m heading back out tomorrow night with Miss 19 to do intervals training. I wonder if my legs will remember all about this running lark, or if they’ll start complaining bitterly?

While out running this evening, we passed one of the leaders from the club session earlier in the week, I presume out with her regular mid-week running friends. She waved and cheered as we passed each other – the smile on Miss 14’s face was priceless.

4 thoughts on “Two Miles with Miss Fourteen

  1. Awesome.

    I have a similar experience with my two. If I announce we’re cycling into Mimico along the lake trail (next neighbourhood over) I get instant complaints about tired and sore and not in the mood from the 14yo boy (aka hockey player – insert eyeroll) and I am often close to losing my shit with him, too. Is it worth the battle?

    The almost 12yo though is the same sort of oeople pleaser as your youngest and she is always thrilled to bits when I suggest cycling (or walking or dog walking or gardening or or or…).

    Parenting is fun. 😄

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It’s wonderful that you’re doing this with your kids. I have fond memories of doing this with my dad when I was in high school. We’d wake up early and run over to the par course, work out there, then run home.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.