I could barely sleep last night for worry; worry about my performance, my children’s performance and my husbands.
Twelve months on from the day I shamed my family I was ready for a comeback.
Today was the day….
It was Sports Day…..
Pep talks were given in the car; twin girl murmured some crap that indicated that it’s not about winning but about trying your best, quickly he who helped create them and I whipped her into shape by setting her straight.
‘There are no prizes for second place…’ we told her encouragingly.
We arrived at school and limbered up, stretching each muscle out carefully to protect against injury. The children prepared themselves for a multitude of competitive events and he who helped create them and I readied ourselves for the infamous parents race.
First up was the 50 metre sprint.
Twin Girl stood at the start line, my heart started to thump, had you looked closely you would have seen it pulsating in my chest. I raised the camera and the silly girl struck a pose; I immediately lowered my hand cursing myself for distracting her and ruining her concentration. The teacher yelled go and off my girl went, feet pounding on grass hurtling forward, she finished first claiming the first Gold of the day.
Euphoric was an understatement, slightly over competitive yelling is a more accurate description of my celebrations.
Twin boy then moved to the start, nerves hit me as he is child not known for his ability to stand still for more than a second, I held my breath until ‘go’ was yelled and he hurtled forward, tiny legs propelling him onwards and my vocal cords erupted in a scream as he seized a second Gold.
It was incredible, the Olympics won’t compare. The sack race was tense; Twin girl took an initial lead but then stumbled and was over taken by a class mate who bounced onto glory. She took silver; which we can live with because who ever saw sack races as a major sporting achievement…..
Twin Boy got distracted and involved in non competitive game of tag and completely missed his sack race; we need to work on his focus for next year……
The tactical race of balance a bean bag on your head came around and Twin Boy started off strong until another child wandered into his lane; he failed to get a place and could later be heard shouting; “he came out of lane, in the Olympics he would be disqualified, I demand a re match.”. At that time I took to cheering on my daughter loudly hoping people may not connect me to my tantruming son.
He had a point though….
The morning flew by in a blur Twin Boy came third in egg and spoon, second in skipping and Twin Girl took a second place in the egg and spoon, and another first in skipping.
I could see the children’s races were coming to an end and I started stretching out my muscles once more eyeing up the slimmer competition. I saw the other mothers serendipitously doing the same and noticed ladies slipping off heels and putting on more appropriate footwear.
I applied my sweat band round my head, fastened on my heart rate monitor and adjusted the laces on my spikes and peeled off my jeans to revealed my lycra clad thighs.
Then it happened…
The Announcement from the Head;
“Owing to a combination of poor weather and last years broken bones the parents race is cancelled this year.”
I slumped to the floor, feeling the bite of my too small sports bra. I would not be given the opportunity to join my family of gold medals, I would always be the one that came second sitting in the shade of my victorious children.
Then I heard the final comment…
“We are sure the mummies race will be back next year…”
Let my training commence!