Someday You Will Ache Like I Ache

I've developed a new exercise motivation technique – trotting behind my 13-year-old daughter Autumn and her friends on the park track.

Nothing will keep you moving like two young, thin girls in front of you. It even works better than pictures of skinny, half nude women on the refrigerator to keep you from eating.

Of course, there was no way could I keep up with them. We are different like pumas and donkeys. I need not tell you who the ass was.

I reminded them I’m over twenty years older than they are and at least 70 pounds heavier, but they don’t see those as viable excuses.

They did keep turning around and cheering me on. Once, I thought I heard something like “tub o lard,” but I couldn’t really tell from the blood pounding in my head. They told me later they said, “Boy you work hard” of course.

When they turned back around and laughed hysterically, I knew it was just because of how much fun we were having.

While I slogged along behind them, seeing them like a mirage ahead of me, hearing them laughing in the distance, I daydreamed about when I’d be able to keep up with them and the things we’d laugh about together.

“Remember when you were so PHAT you jogged a mile behind us and kept yelling for us to slow down, but we pretended not to hear you?” or “Wasn’t it a blast that time we had to call 911 after she passed out on the track and crushed that squirrel to death?”
“What about that time we left her in our skinny, youthful dust and we found her an hour later laying on the grass crying and cursing God and she said her tears were just sweat?”

Yes, those sweet girls and I will make many memories on this journey and then one day when they get old and fat I’ll be the one laughing.


Here is a woman that understands. Thank you Courtney Love.