Wee Wisdom: Time to Get Tired

I took a jog with Sophia the other day. We had almost arrived home when she leaned over and rested her hands on her knees.

Out of breath, my 7-year-old said, “I’m tired.”

“Great!” I replied. “I tell my patients at the hospital, ‘If you’re not a little tired, you’re probably not working hard enough!’ ”

Sophia thought about it. “What if you’re tired, and you’ve barely done anything?”

“Then you’re probably out of shape,” I answered.

The experience reminded me of Ella’s yearly physical this past May. The pediatrician asked my 10-year-old how much exercise she did that involved sweating and feeling moderately tired. Both the doctor and I were aware of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, or CDC, recommendation that kids get 60 minutes of daily moderate to vigorous exercise; Ella and I agreed that she might not have been getting enough.

I was a bit embarrassed that the daughter of two physical therapists might not have been up to par in the activity department.

Childhood obesity is a major public health issue, so I understand the concern. However, I had never considered that kids should worry about the intensity of their exercise, as long as they weren’t stuck to the couch for a cartoon marathon. The CDC’s prescribed amount of exercise can be hard to achieve if you factor in homework, hobbies, meals and rest time. Organized sports can certainly help, but what if your kid isn’t interested in the rigors of daily swim team practice or climbing the club soccer ranks?

For a second, I panicked: Am I hurting my children by promoting general activity over organized sports?

Our daughters attend jazz class once a week and love dancing more than almost anything. Ella has tried soccer and tennis and didn’t love either one. She enjoys short hikes and walks, but I don’t see fourteeners in her future. She can play in the pool for hours, but lap swimming for fun isn’t her thing.

Sophia loves tumbling and gymnastics and jumps at every chance to play outside. She hasn’t yet expressed interest in any one sport, though she’s considering volleyball, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she appeases her dad by taking up basketball. She is much happier playing at the park than she is watching television.

Clearly, our daughters are not slugs, but I also don’t foresee them becoming athletic prodigies. They might never appreciate the adrenaline high of running or the oddly addictive muscle soreness that follows weightlifting, feelings that are common to a large number of exercise-crazy Coloradans, including me. But they do understand the importance of moving and being outdoors, which makes me happy.

There’s a fine line between encouragement and pushing too hard, and I’m reluctant to cross that line. Could my kids be more active? Sure. Might they rebel if I force them into something they don’t enjoy? That’s also possible. I’d rather step backward than impose my desires in their faces.

I hope their pediatrician isn’t reading this.