And then sometimes I DON'T take after my mother...

My mother is not much of an athlete. By which I mean she almost failed grade 10 gym for her inability to do a somersault and often finds walking dangerous when combined with another activity such as drinking coffee or talking on the phone. I am fortunate enough to have a rather gifted athlete for a father so have only inherited a half dysfunctional gene for athleticism, the result of which allows me to cover up my athletic shortcomings by being an avid gym-goer and runner (neither of which require much athletic skill – just a little determination and a good pair of shoes.) It has taken me 32 years but after much perseverance and the recent purchase of an obscenely expensive stick, I can (finally) say with pride that I play hockey.

Rural hockey has been fantastic, but living out in the country has curbed my jogging. Sometimes when absolutely necessary I go for a run near my house. A round trip to the stop sign and back is about a 5 km trek that usually involves a life-threatening encounter with a scary dalmation and a loud mutt of a farm dog who threatens to chew my leg off. (In dog language, of course.) So there’s a great sense of freedom and excitement when I find an hour to myself in Toronto and can enjoy a leisurely run along a path or a busy street where there are things to see and dogs on leashes.

The only barrier to my complete enjoyment of my Toronto runs is my mother.

I’m not sure if it’s her own innate need to “look out for me” or the fact that it’s the only thing we don’t have in common; it’s probably a combination of the two. Without fail, my excited announcement that I’m “going for a run” is almost always met with a look of horror and a motherly warning. “That sounds like a bad idea” is the most common tidbit of advise I hear, but sometimes she gets creative and warns me about the perils of cars or that I’m going to get sweaty.

Today she outdid herself. Granted, it was starting to spit as I ventured out for my run, but as she shrugged her shoulders she sighed defeatedly the most athletically-ignorant statement of her life; “Well FINE then but make sure you take an umbrella…”