Track ...

Much to Jackson's dismay he has discovered a sport he excels in.  Like cross country ... he's good at track.  He wasn't thrilled about running track ... but I highly encouraged it.  Probably not in the most awesome of mom ways.

"okay .. how about this .. I will buy you McDonald's fries after every meet"

After EVERY meet?

Yes son.  EVERY meet.

Needless to say after EVERY meet ... he did not realize he felt more like puking than eating anything ..much less fries dripping with grease.

His events became the 800 and the 4x4 relay.

He can run.  He can run fast.  Most meets he came in 2nd (just behind Brock... who he just couldn't quite catch during XC either).  Every inch of his body is on fire after he runs.  And he hates it.  Except for the rush of placing well.  It became clock work .. his pattern ... before and after races.  All morning - I don't want to run mom.  I hate this.  Please don't make me run.  Before his race .. he would pace .. stretch... look at me with his eyes begging ... shaking his head ... right up to the start line.  Gun would fire and off he would go.  Like a boss.  Then comes the after race shock... the white face ... the occasional puke .. the panting ... then the - OH MY GOSH DID YOU SEE MY TIME???!!! All the way home ... I LOVED that mom.  Did you see me?  That time was great wasn't it?  I beat my last time ...This isn't so bad.  When's my next meet?

Repeat.

He qualified for districts ... and took 2nd.  2:32 was his time. You would have thought he won a gold medal at the Olympics.  Beaming.  I was proud of him.  He was proud of himself.  Hard work.  Pays off.

Maybe I can promise ice-cream next season.  I'll do whatever I can to encourage.  I know he loves basketball ... but LeBron he isn't .. and won't ever be.  (I'm a realist)  So ...

RUN JACKSON ... RUN!!!!