Ran Coogan's yesterday with my son. My son and I do spend a lot of time together, at wrestling meets, tournaments, and practices. I try to get him pumped up when his team is losing, or when he has an important match. I don't know if all my 'coach talk' gets him psyched or not, but I know that when he runs with me, it gets me psyched. I had so much fun with him yesterday.

We started the race together, weaving in and out of people. Just when I though I'd lost him, I'd glance to my side and there he would be, looking back at me. It was a reassuring look, reassuring to me, almost, a "don't worry mom, I'm still with you." Our eyes kept in contact on and off for the first 2 1/2 miles. I lost him on the last hill. His 16 year old legs didn't feel the strain like mine did. I crossed the finish line about 45 seconds after he did, and he was right there, waiting for me with a big smile. He hasn't beat me in a race in about six months. He was so proud of himself. Not as proud as I was of him.