Run, Luke, Run

Luke is our quiet kid. He suffers Middle Child Syndrome, even though there's not really a "middle" in our pack. But as there are 3 boys, and he's the middle brother, he's got all the classic symptoms. Plus, he's just a quiet kid. He spends most of his time watching super hero movies or reading books. He's a tad on the artsy side, and kind of nerdy. He can, however, hold his own when the boys are out chopping wood, and doesn't complain about his weed trimming jobs over summer.

Of all the kids, this boy is mine more than any of the others. He inherited my love of reading, my nerdy ways, and my complete and utter lack of coordination for sports. He's the only one who never played soccer. It's almost an American rite-of-passage to be on an AYSO team, and yet he somehow managed to avoid that whole thing. He also avoided the peer pressure of friends. He just doesn't let anyone tell him what is cool. He does what he wants because he loves doing it. Or he doesn't do something because he just isn't good at it. And that's the way it is with him.

Being all non-athletic like he is, I was kind of surprised when he said he was joining the track team this year. I was even more surprised when he decided that distance running was his thing. Where does he get the stamina for this? And the surprise factor upped a bit when he said he planned to do track next year, too. He runs for 2 hours after school with the team, and twice weekly he's at track meets, running a relay, the 1-mile, and a 2-mile race. From someone who can't run, this is pure insanity. I'm also ridiculously proud of his newfound athleticism. Perhaps there's something of his dad in him after all.

(Proof that Luke is immune to the ridicule of peers: his socks sport red hearts. They are a good luck charm passed down by his cousin, who ran track before him.)