This Sunday Conny is going to run her first marathon, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed for her. Go Girl, GO!
Am I proud of her? No - because pride doesn't apply here, at least the way I see the concept of 'pride'.
- First, I haven't got anything to be proud of here: it's all her achievement and not mine. I've done my half 16 years ago to cause her existence in the first place, but she is her own person and does her things (or not).
- Second, running isn't something I could have shown her as a lovable exercise - I don't like it at all myself, and I'm a very inept runner and much prefer a bicycle (which I consequentially do a lot more of and more readily and happily - the last two months I've been doing a 25km round almost every day).
- Third, she's doing something that I can't do. So I'm a tad envious of her ;-)
But I'm really very happy for her, and I find it great that she likes running and does well at it.
So, Conny: Good Luck! I hope you have a good time and enjoy your marathon - which I'm sure you will, especially once it's over :-)