"So, you think you can take me?"

It was a phrase that was part of a harmless skit between my oldest son and I that we'd practice while puffing up our muscles at each other. It seems like only yesterday that we'd go through that. We'd act all tough to each other. Each of us so sure we could "take" the other if we were to try.

Today? I'm pretty sure I would lose. Oh don't get me wrong. I will never have to find out. My oldest, my favorite first born, has the kindest gentlest spirit of anyone I know. But...

He's been working out. He's decided he needs to beef up a bit and he's been lifting and running. Sometimes I get home from work and see him just finishing up. A few times I've longed to run with him. Today I came home and he was running again. I ran upstairs and threw off the work duds and donned the necessary attire. Complete with an Under Armour knock-off shirt, fleece vest, and a cute (not) little head band thingy. I tried to sneak out behind him and join in but I got out there too late. When I acted all crushed and begged him to go a while longer he did. So now I know.

He CAN take me!!! I ran two laps around our property. Eight acres in all. He's never measured the distance so I don't know how far that is but he hung in with me for two jog laps and one walk lap and this was AFTER his already 9 laps! After two I was spewing and now over an hour later I still feel on the brink of an asthma attack, my throat hurts when I breathe in, and I start coughing. He. Can. Take Me.