EuroSMAC or the 5:30 Rabbit

     The still-unfolding Tale of the 5:30 Rabbit happens at the intersection of several strands of life in the Admiraal/Alien household, so bear with me as I weave the story.
     Strand One: I wrote a while back about Johanna joining a local running team. Unfortunately, due to some health issues, she had to quit (it was hard to explain all the throwing up in French). Recently, she has begun to run with a girl in Luc's class at school. Johanna has been teaching Ariana all the cheers, rituals, and stretches from her beloved Ohio team, SMAC. They girls have been running a few times a week, and are calling themselves "EuroSMAC." I even asked the coach of the original SMAC team to order some t-shirts for them.
      Our funniest EuroSMAC story yet happened two weeks ago. I had been running with the girls after school, but wasn't sure I could make it that day, so I emailed Ariana's dad to ask if it was okay if they ran alone. He wrote back, saying it was fine, as long as the area where they were running (a park near the school) was safe. I responded that I thought it was perfectly safe, and said something clever like, "I've never seen anything scarier than a big dog on a leash." I should know better. As it turned out, I decided to run with the girls, and it was a good thing I did. They were ahead of me and I saw them run up a hill and immediately back down. Then I saw a large number of policemen running through the park. Turned out, a policeman had told the girls to go back downthat  the hill so that they wouldn't interfere with an arrest, which was actually in progress, right that minute, at the top. We watched it all from a safe distance, and I would say that, overall, it was slightly more disturbing than a large dog on a leash. On second thought, perhaps the presence of so many policemen actually proves my point.

Johanna, Ariana, and the Alien (no, Johanna doesn't have anything in her eye -- she's just being goofy)

     Policemen and large dogs aside, EuroSMAC introduced Ariana to intervals last Thursday. For those who may not know, intervals (a.k.a. repeats) involve running a set distance, at a high rate of speed, and doing it several times in a row with rests between. As the default coach of this startup team, I was very impressed with our foray into intervals. We may be small, but we are potentially fleet ("we" being, of course, the under-15 section of the team, which does not include me). Johanna was excited, too, first about Ariana's potential to run a 6-minute mile by the end of our track season, and secondly, about her own potential to break 5:30 and set the SMAC record (whether an unofficial time on a Swiss track would count is another matter). I was also happy. I have been praying for the past two years that Johanna could use her running talent to bless others in some way, and her "coaching" Ariana seems like an answer to that prayer. At the same time, my heart has been a little bit broken over the loss of what might have been a quite successful season in Cincinnati. As much as I pray that winning will not be an idol, I have to admit that it is fun to see my child win. This seemed like a good compromise -- a goal for Johanna and an opportunity to help a friend reach a goal, with no real winning or outside glory involved. So pause this story for a moment and proceed to . . .

     Strand Two: Johanna looked like a skinny, featherless baby bird when she was born. Nevertheless, she continues to grow and has somehow gotten to the point that tomorrow, she is going to be 14 years old. This is disconcerting for her dad and me, but not nearly so disconcerting as the fact that, for her birthday, what she wants MOST IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD is a pet rabbit. This rabbit, she says, would somehow make up for the fact that she doesn't have any friends in the neighborhood while simultaneously providing a valuable witnessing tool (?). Probably it would also improve her French, teach her to cook, and give her hair a healthy sheen. We are not really a pet family, the extent of our experience with indoor fauna being several fish and a hamster (now all deceased). Johanna diligently researched the costs associated with a rabbit, including the price and feasibility of moving the creature back to the U.S. when the time comes. Her friends were all set to buy her the rabbit, cage, food, and accessories as birthday gifts. The huge snag in this near-perfect plan was Dad, who said absolutely no pets of any kind. No. We had weeping, wailing, and yes, gnashing of teeth. Johanna is nothing if not determined (which is a nice way to say stubborn as a mule). This brings us to . . .

     Strand Three: Fathers and daughters. French kids call the teacher's pet "le chouchou," which pretty much sums it up. The picture of a father wrapped around his daughter's little finger is a truism for a reason. But Daddy seemed pretty firmly entrenched in his refusal to allow rodents to join the family.

      Can anyone see where this story is going?

      Another truism is that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. This may be true for some men, but food isn't really Eric's weakness. Nor is it cars, books, shoes, or even collegiate sports. Johanna, however, knows exactly what makes her dad tick. So when she came home, flushed with excitement over her speedy intervals, the first words out of her mouth were:

      "Dad, if I run a 5:30 mile, can I have rabbit?"

      And we all know what the answer was.

     * * *
 
      Much to my (possibly temporary) relief, this whole rabbit thing is not a done deal. A 5:30 mile is pretty zippy for a 14-year-old. I think Johanna could have done it with the support of her team in the U.S., with the incentive of racing competitors, and with the expertise of her coaches. Right now, she has EuroSMAC, an empty track in Bernex, Switzerland, and Mom. But Robert Browing wrote: "Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven for." Surely that applies to 14-year-old girls as well.