Sometimes when things don’t go as planned in my life, I am already imagining a blog post in my mind.
The boys’ first 5K was one of those moments.
After I ran my first half marathon, The Third Grader was so excited to start running races. I use the term ‘race’ loosely. When I run a ‘race’ it’s more a fun run for me. I am only competing against the voices in my head. Extra points if you got a chuckle out of that…
I am not fast. I used to use the excuse of “Oh, I’m getting older. I can’t be fast.” But when I heard a 91 year old woman ran the half marathon also…because she hurt her foot and could no longer do the full marathon…I just shut up and have no excuse now. Everyone is built different? Some people just aren’t fast? I feel like I’m walking on glass in the morning because of plantar fasciitis? Whatever. I still try.
When The Third Grader said he wanted to do a 5K, I was all over it. I love when they show an interest in setting a goal and working toward it.
We signed up for the library’s Racing to Read 5K. It’s kid friendly, flat and in a scenic neighborhood. Well, scenic for our area.
Of course, Middle Child found out and did not want to be excluded. That’s fine…he ran 2 miles in the neighborhood with us. Surely he can do this.
My first clue that maybe this was not a great idea should have been when he told me he was tired that morning…as we walked toward the starting line. Yikes.
The second, in my face, clue was when I carried him on my back the first mile. And the third mile. I could have just dropped out, turned around and waited for The Third Grader at the finish line. But, that is not me. I paid for a race. I started a race. I was going to cross the finish line of that race…even if we were dead last. Even if the lady with pig tails riding the scooter passed us. Even if the man strolling at parade pace wearing jeans and gigantic head phones passed us.
And they did.
At first I was mad. I wanted to run at least some of the race. I wanted to enjoy the run with my boys. Both of them!
Then I started to see things I don’t normally see during races…because I am so fast…ha ha. We
walked strolled by the river and we saw a duck. We meandered by the statues sitting on benches on the sidewalk. We enjoyed the beautiful old houses lining the road in scenic downtown. We got to talk while Middle Child laid lazily on my back.
As we approached the end I put him down and told him he had to run across the finish line.
“Because that’s what you do in a race. You finish strong.”
He took off and sprinted like someone was chasing him. I heard someone yell “Hey! Good job!! You’re beating your mom!”
I resisted the urge to punch that person in the neck.
He finished strong, grabbed a water bottle and his medal.
We searched for The Third Grader. He finished long before us and had time to walk around, eat a pancake and search the raffle board to discover he had won a duffel bag.
Overall it was a success, but it will be a while before I carry another kid on my back…racing or not.
Are you training for any events this summer?