Exploring the Stories of the Islands and the Freedoms of Third Age

Of Motherly Pride


My sons never cease to amaze me with their sporting achievements, and the dedication, focus and stamina they put into them.  It isn’t possible to be prouder of them than I am!

This weekend it was Austin, taking part in the Adeje Triathlon last Saturday.  He’s signed up for the Lanzarote Ironman next year, and this was the last event here of this season for him to hone his skills.  He is doing this despite certain problems.  His life isn’t that easy at the moment, which, of course, makes me even prouder – that he is combating his problems by throwing himself whole-heartedly into sport and studies, instead of letting them get him down, is beyond pride, beyond my capacity with words.

The forecast high swell was, well, exactly as forecast, and the start was delayed, and it was fun to watch the tv crews anxiously rushing around, trying to find out what was going on.  The only microphone appeared to be at the finish line, which was well above the beach, and out of ear shot.  I wandered up and spotted Austin’s bike so I could be in place to take the photos you see above, and asked a girl in an official T-shirt what was happening.  I suppose  I should put her sullenness down to the fact that perhaps she didn’t know either, but she could confirm that the swim wasn’t cancelled, so I trotted back to my vantage point overlooking the beach, and around a half hour late the swell had obviously subsided enough for battle to commence.  I never watch this part of a triathlon without a bit of trepidation, and that was even more so this time, with the swell as it was.  It helps to know Austin, having grown up here, and having lifeguard qualifications from various organizations, and being a surfer is an excellent swimmer, but even so, well, moms will understand.

Whenever I watch one of these local triathlon I always wonder at how fresh the competitors seem to look.  Maybe it has something to do with changing the discipline, but an hour and a half (longer in the case of most) of intense exercise, in what is almost always sweltering heat is no small feat, and of course, the Ironman will be a lot longer!

In April Guy ran the London Marathon in 3.57 – “not bad” for his first marathon and for someone who has battled asthma all his life!!!  The weather was kind to the runners that day, a gentle drizzle, moments of sunshine, perfect conditions for spending hours pounding the city streets!  When Guy popped up looking as fresh as a daisy near my position close to the finishing line I cried like a baby.  It was partly relief, of course – the mom thing again.  That he chooses to run and raise his middle finger to his asthma both scares me and raises my pride meter off the scale.  The exhilaration on his face was a joy to see.

In short, these two guys are my heroes.


Author: IslandMomma

Exploring island life and the freedoms of Third Age: Challenging myself every day: writing, traveling, snapping pix, running & teaching ESL

3 thoughts on “Of Motherly Pride

  1. And so you should be proud of two such wonderful sons! The only sportsmen (or women) in my family are Tarik of course with his judo and Ines, who plays in both the netball and hockey teams at her school. She certainly doesn’t get that from me. I loathed all sports (as you well know!)



  2. Wasn’t that keen myself!!! Except for the tennis in summer!

  3. Pingback: On Being a Marathon Mom: A Flying Visit to El Hierro | Islandmomma

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