Scott Martin

Got a call last week from Child Protective Services.

Apparently my neighbor contacted them after he saw me doing anaerobic threshold intervals with my 4-year-old daughter. Typical Nanny State meddling.

As I told the social worker who stopped by, I'm merely helping little Ashlee be all she can be.

Heck, I said, don't take my word for it. Check out the recent New York Times article headlined, Sports Training Has Begun for Babies and Toddlers.

Noting that "children are being groomed as athletes before they can walk," the piece discusses baby-sports DVDs by companies such as athleticBaby and Baby Goes Pro, L'il Kickers soccer academy where parents can enroll children at 18 months old, and a California-based gym chain where more than half of those who attend classes are 2 1/2 or younger.

So you could argue that I've been neglectful in waiting till Ashlee is potty trained before starting her on over/under sprints at 95% max heart rate.

Besides, it's not like I'm slipping clenbuterol into her SpaghettiOs. How many "abused" kids do you know with carbon-fiber training wheels?

Speaking of componentry, please contact me if you hear of any watt meters that are compatible with her Junior Miss 16-inch-wheeler. It would be great if the head unit comes in pink.

Obviously, my busybody neighbor got the wrong impression when Ashlee and I returned from our intervals and she threw up in the driveway. Then she started sniffling and begging for juice and cookies. I had to remind her that all those carbs would wreak havoc on her power-to-weight ratio.

She'll thank me in 20 years when she pulls on the Giro d'Italia leader's jersey -- "Look, honey, it's pink!" -- an opportunity denied me because I lacked her advantages.

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