C is for Competition

This morning, our oldest son made us proud on the second varsity boat for the season's first scrimmage. It's still such a thrill to see him rowing on the Potomac, the sleek boats and rowers moving in unison. Next, we celebrated my middle son's hockey championship win. One particularly bright moment was when he assisted a goal, and it was clear through the entire game how far he'd come since he started last year.

Before both events, I went for a solitary run along Capital Crescent Trail, and I set my mapping app to let me know my pace. I raced myself. Each mile, my iPhone's polite voice announced the data, and for each subsequent mile, I beat it. One of my sons works on a team of eight to find perfect unity in order to beat the boats rowing alongside them. My other son also has the support of a team, but he is faced with obstacles at every turn. They both love what they do. As for me, no other runners tried to beat me, nobody blocked my path, and that's more than fine.

Life lesson: Different sports for different sorts.