It seems the kids aren't so much athletes, either...

I thought it might be a good idea this evening to take the kids out for a bit. They had a day off from school, because schools in San Antonio like to give kids days off for things like flower fights. Companies in San Antonio, mine especially, are not quite as generous with the time off, so the kids were cooped up inside all day in front of the tv. (Why is it always the tv, and never the dishwasher, or the vacuum?) Since cooped up kids frequently turn into argumentative, unhappy kids, I thought we'd better high-tail it out of the house as soon as I got home.

So, in accordance with my Quest to Become More Fit, I decided the thing to do would be to head to a nearby park with a great big open area and kick a soccer ball around. Good for leg muscles, cardio, and overall stress relief, and something all of us could participate in at the same time. Brilliant!

Yeah...as it tends to be with my "brilliant" ideas involving bettering my kids' lives...not so much.

Perhaps the Field of Thorns is not the best place for outdoor activity...

We hadn't been out there five minutes before my Lego- and book-loving (and most definitely sports-disliking) middle child decided he had a stomachache and needed to go sit down on a faraway bench. (His failure to kick the ball to his satisfaction had nothing to do with this sudden bout of abdominal pain, I'm sure.) The other two soon followed suit with complaints of thirst and thorns stuck in socks. Really, I don't know what the problem was. It was a beautiful and balmy 94 degrees and we were in a big open field of prickly dead grass littered with small burrs. I couldn't imagine better circumstances for informal soccer practice! We switched from long kicks to actually playing soccer and after my daughter wandered away in search of a water fountain, my butt was promptly kicked by my 12-year-old. This seems to be a theme...but I will blame my loss today solely on my calves, which protested quite noticeably every time I tried to sprint after the ball. I'm back to my previous schedule of two runs a week (soon to be my even-more-previous 3), and after putting in six miles during the last few days, my legs have had about enough of being stood on, let alone sprinting after an energetic 12-year-old who is a bit too gleeful about scoring 3 goals to his mother's 0.

After half an hour it was clear we were all miserable, so we left. And got ice cream. Which probably canceled out any benefit of whatever exercise we managed to get, but it put everyone in a good mood at least. And my ice cream was actually lemon flavored frozen yogurt. With raspberries. Fruit and milk, people--health food.

But I tried. It's really too bad there are no grades for effort anymore when you're a grownup...I might be getting Cs or thereabouts in actual physical ability, but I would totally ACE the effort category!