Power Girl


Completely unexpectedly my girl has decided that she wants to come out running with me. Something to do with the upcoming school sports day and the need to become really ‘strong’.

Naturally I leap at the opportunity to spend some one-on-one time with my daughter. But ever since my son burst into tears because he could not keep up with my running (on his bike!), I am a bit hesitant to let my children accompany me when I go for a jog. I do not like to be perceived as a drill sergeant, allthough sometimes I am just that.

But then my daughter mumbles ‘Vita Parcours’. Of course, our own local hill here in Switzerland boasts one of those running trails, interrupted by sturdy wooden exercise equipment. Great idea! Off we go!

She looks absolutely adorable in her too short dance trousers – she has grown a ‘bit’ since we bought those in the Christmas holidays – and her brothers too big running shoes that she insists on wearing. I better not tell her that though, as she is – completely unlike me – prone to mood swings. But all stays well in the world, so minutes later we skip through the forest.

It turns out to be great fun to look for the signs that will explain our next set of excercises. We stretch away at some stations and jump on and over tree stumps and wooden barriers at others. My girl turns out to be very fit. And strong. She relishes in showing me how well she can do push ups on the ground and pull ups while dangling high above the ground.

She is positively shouting with joy after she finds out that I can not do any of these things. I can just about manage to hang limply from rings and bars for about ten seconds, but that is it. Push ups are a definite no no. I never had much strength in my arms. End of.Now that I am home again, sipping a cappucino and typing up this post, I think I never want to go this fitness ordeal again. I should just stick to what I do best: running.

Not my daughter though, she disappears into her room to work on a fitness rota, comprising multiple weekly visits to the forest fitness trail. Oh dear. If I fall silent on this blog, it probably means that I can not lift my arms far enough to reach my keyboard. So unless I too become ‘strong’ very quickly, I will have to learn to type with my toes.


Besides being married to Mr. S, I am also the mum of a 13yo son and a 11yo daughter. For the past eight years we have lived in England, Italy and Switzerland. Our recent move back to the Netherlands, is posing some interesting questions for all of us. I write about the ups and downs of our repat life.

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