I was raised to be very athletic. Or else!!

Swim team, running, hiking, biking. In some ways I'm really grateful for this because I think it has helped me to have more athletic skill for sports I picked up in adulthood (skiing, for example). In other ways I wish things had been different. Overtraining at the critical pre-pubertal joint development age for me caused Osgood-Schlatters disease in both of my knees which still causes me problems today. Not to mention that my parents approach to athletics bordered on abusive.

My dad was into marathons and being a jock, and we were all enrolled in 5Ks, 10Ks, etc. growing up. The only vacations we took were bike tours or backpacking trips. While I remember being stunned and enthralled with the beauty of the Sierra Nevada, I also remember being 8 years old and being forced to keep pace with 4 older siblings and 2 adults while climbing Mt. Whitney. Always pushing past the point of tears til I would get an asthma attack or vomit, and being humiliated for being the "slowest" and "clumsiest". Being berated for being an inconvenience to everyone who had to stop and wait for me to recover so we could push on. Dad's offer to go cycling with me daily after school in Jr High was because I was the "fat kid in the family" which he was tactless enough to say to my face.

Issues much?

Anyways... uh.... Sorry for the whole overshare but I really have mixed feelings about childhood athletics as a result of my experiences. Granted, I now have a very high level of physical and emotional endurance whihc has served me very well in adulthood. But, what price childhood?