Even if it kills me

That was possibly the most unpleasant run I have ever had. Zach whined the whole time about dying or me being crazy for thinking he is going to walk a mile every day, to and from school. You know when you visualize smacking your kid on the back of the head, I was there, relishing the idea, as he spat ridiculous scenarios of how he could be kidnapped (with five crossing guards along his straight path), or how he could trip and fall in a ditch (which he found comforting because he could take a nap).

At one point, I decided I was going to run at my own pace and leave him to fend for himself, but then I looked over my shoulder to see him getting smaller and smaller, flailing his arms to wait up because it was going to get dark soon, and someone would take him. 50 minutes to run two miles! We had not even made it TO the school when he started his complaining. At one point, he stopped at a crosswalk and had all the cars at a stalemate because they kept waving him on, and he kept hesitating, one foot in the road, one foot on the sidewalk.

I walked up and waved everyone on. He said he was confused about why everyone was telling him to go. Sigh. This child is clueless about EVERYTHING. How to cross a street (I have showed him a million times), how to use a butter knife to spread anything on bread (using the curved side eludes him), or how to rake leaves (because dragging the rake across the whole entire yard seems reasonable)! And the thing is, if it weren't for the fact that he now recognizes my annoyed or frustrated face, he would not care to learn anything at all. He is complacent to just exist. I realize some of this apathy can be attributed to his gender and his age, but good grief, GET A CLUE.

So all the way back to the house, feet dragging like he was literally dying of exhaustion, he professed his absolute hatred for running or exercise for that matter. He already put on some weight (I've nicknamed him Pudge) as part of the "puberty movement." I just don't know that he will get much taller as his parents were fairly short and rather hefty. If that is the case, then he will want to have an active routine. I am not going to make him diet or any of that craziness like my father insisted was in my best interest, but I am going to instill a good healthy exercise ethic. Even if it kills me.