It goes against all motherly instinct to want to crush your child; yet — here we are. I want to crush to my child. I want to destroy her, obliterate her!

I would die for her. I would literally take a bullet or sacrifice my last breath for her but that little jackass has ignited a war, a competitive instinct I can not fight even if she is my own child, born of my flesh.

In three weeks she will be joining her dad and me in her first 5K in 10 years. Since deciding to run, she has been talking shit nonstop.

Most people would be happy to simply finish the race or just to beat their own time. I know that’s all I ever hope for. Not her. Her goal is to beat me … not her dad … ME!

Game on, you little bastard! See you at the finish line. I’ll save you a water.

🏃‍♀️ 🏃

P.S. Win or lose, I hope I don’t die of a heart attack cause that would suck.