My kids are faster than I am

And I'm okay with that.

We began our 4th of July early this year. Up around 5.30, left the house at 6.15 for a 5K that started at 7.30. Perfect running weather: cool and sunny. Nice flat course.

I started the race with the girls a few rows ahead of me in the crowd. Pretty quickly, they were gone from sight. I didn't see them again until I crossed the finish line; they were off to the side, snorking up food and cheering me on.

The 14-year-old beat the 17-year-old by 10 seconds. They placed 48th and 51st in a total field of 1000 runners.

And they beat me by more than 5 minutes.

FIVE MINUTES.

Really, I'm okay with it. I mean, I'm 40 years older than my younger daughter. It's pretty understandable that I'm slower than my kids. Right?

In my heart of hearts, however, I am muttering, "I would have totally mopped the floor with you two when I was a teenager." The beauty of that thought is that we'll never know, because I ran sprints and not distance as a teenager.

Anyway, I'm celebrating my kids' fast feet and their commitment to training. And one day, when their kids beat them in a race, I hope to be around to remind them, "You can be okay with this."