Tuesday, 30 April 2013

Swimathon 2013, in aid of Marie Curie

This post is a little late, too much excitement on Sunday and the lovely boyf came home yesterday... but the 11 yr old made me a very, very proud mama on Sunday.  As part of Girl's Week (with the boyf in Boston) I signed her up, the weekend before, for the Swimathon - thinking that it would be a bit of fun.  A certain amount of horror set in, as I officially registered her, when I discovered that the Swimathon was a 1.5km (or 60 lengths) swim! Option A was just not to show up... not an option really; and Option B was to sign her up and make the first, guilt-ridden!, donation.  Option B it was.  Now, 60 lengths wasn't completely out of the realms of possibility, she swims in a squad and an average session includes 30-40 lengths, but I was fully expecting a lot of cajoling and threats to get her through the last few.  I even roped in the lovely Mrs B, as volunteer counter, for moral support (mine, not the 11 yr old's!)  

As it is, my fabulous daughter (and all the other great children who took part that day) proved us wrong, and then some!  There was a certain mental block with the initial 60 lengths, they would pause for a drink, ask for their total thus far etc. but they didn't slack; 60 lengths were done in little over half an hour.  And then a little magic happened, their swim coach said to let the keep swimming till the end of the hour and swim they did.  In the last 20 minutes, the 11yr old swam a further 22 lengths.  She had hit her stride and didn't stop. Their tenacity and determination was just a delight to watch; and a reminder of how we so often underestimate our children. 

And just look at that face, her only disappointment that she didn't have time to get to 90 lengths.  I think she could have happily carried on to 120 if we'd let her!  There is so much time spent, being a parent, where you are caught up in the day to day minutiae of doing you job.  You love your child, of that there is no doubt, but you are so busy thinking of this, that and the other, that you forget the marvel of them.

And on Sunday I got to marvel, buckets and buckets of marvelling... one proud, proud mama!

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