Friday, February 24, 2012

In Which Son and I Unite over Sport

I have blogged before, not too long ago, about how Son and I need to find areas where we can do stuff together and have fun instead of just fighting over his spelling homework.
The workout for the Crossfit Open was announced Wednesday and I was happy that it was just burpees, that's all. Yeah! A workout that in my post-injury-recovery mode I could do.
Recently, Son and I have been fighting over his wanting to play video games 24/7. I often try to bribe him to exercise by saying he can have video game time.
So, since the Open Workout was only 7 minutes, I told him if he did the workout ("It's only 7 minutes!"), he could have another hour of video game time. I know, this seems like a classic bad mother move, but he had to go with me to the workout, since Middlebrow had a basketball game and wouldn't be home.
On the way to the gym, I was giving him a kind of pep talk. "Unless you figure out how to roll with life," I said, "you're going to end up very unhappy."
"Like you?" he replied.
Youch! I told him that he had hurt my feelings, and that I needed a time out from him. So we rode in the car, silently.
On the way to the gym, he said that they had started square dancing at school and that he liked it. I told him I had done Greek dancing in sixth grade (with all the Papapavlos kids who were in my class). Then I asked him how many burpees he could do in 7 minutes. He was pretty optimistic and said maybe he could do 70 (10 per minute). I said it might be hard to keep up that pace. By the time we got to the gym, we were friends again.
He actually got a little excited to do the workout with everyone, with the big timer counting down and everything. I counted for him and urged him on. Some other people at the gym shouted out "good job!" to him during the workout. He really pushed himself in the last minute and got 59 burpees total. He was proud but, like a true Crossfitter, said, "Darn. I was hoping for 60." But he asked me to put his name up on the whiteboard with other athletes. "Look," he said. "I beat a few people."
Then he counted for me (with the help of an older, more experienced Crossfitter). He was pretty impressed with me when I reached 50 burpees, and he urged me to get more.
By the time we left the gym, he was pretty exhausted. We stopped by the store and I let him get some cookies for the next day.
Then, when we got home, we ate together and started a new book, The Hoboken Chicken Emergency by Daniel Pinkwater. He snuggled up next to me.
I'm trying to live in the moment and just be with him. But it's hard for me not to be constantly reminding myself "cherish the moment! cherish the moment!" because so many moments are so difficult this year. But he's a wonderful son, with the soul of the poet athlete.