The remaining third along with my husband volunteered at the race with our friends. Don't they all look great in Jersey Shore Running Club's signature prison jumpsuit orange colored t-shirts?
In the midst of marathon training I was in for a treat today (or so I thought) as I was running with my youngest son. Even though we two were on a relay team, I had agreed to run his leg along side him. The last couple of times we ran a 5k together, I had a great and memorable glowing proud momma experience. Who knew that on this day, with my boy running in a tailored house dress (clearance at K-mart for $6.98!) it would border on near torture for both of us? As it turns out, not too hot but very humid weather makes for a whiny nine year old. Add the unusual attire that he kept shifting and shrugging in to the fact that we were running and out-and-back in way too familiar territory (so he knew exactly how far everything was and my "we're almost there" claims were never ever taken seriously) to the fact that I did not take him out for training runs (aka confidence boosters) at all, and we have something as close to catastrophic as an entitled American child can suffer. The boy actually started whining about 1.2 miles into the race. I struggle with finding a balance between being whining-intolerant while attempting to allow for emotional and verbal release. My child should be allowed to express himself. He should also man up (yeah in his house dress) and embrace the suffering that running requires. He agreed to this run and understands that he must keep a commitment once it is made. We ran with very short walk breaks and lots and lots of whining for a good half of the race, possibly more. Finally with only .3 miles to go, I was DONE with the whining.
I'm sure I startled the runners that surrounded us when I barked at him something to the effect of "We will finish this walking, jogging, running, or crawling. Whatever you want. If you are in actual pain, you need to stop running and walk. You have to keep your commitment and finish the race. Whining is not going to make any of this feel easier or go faster so suck it up and finish. We ARE almost there. ENOUGH with the whining and complaining." And just like that, my boy sucked it up, and finished his struggle in silence. He finished in just over 34 minutes, which is less than 2 minutes slower than his PR. If we didn't stop to tie his shoelace 3 TIMES he would've undoubtedly finished even faster. As a mom who wants her kids to know that life ain't all about stopping to smell the roses, I'm glad that my son experienced such doubt, struggle, strain, accomplishment and triumph. Welcome to the real world, kid. This is a piece of cake compared to what life may throw at you in the future.
I looped around without him to begin my leg of the relay. I took this as a short training/recovery run and neither pushed myself too hard nor made it too easy. I think I did somewhere around 28 minutes. (This does not include the time it took to stop and have a freakin' discussion with the race director as to why I was running a 2nd loop and whether or not my child was finishing the 5k as an individual or if he was part of a team.) The course is lovely to those who don't run it several times a week, but on this particular day for me, it was boring, draining, and uneventful. Knowing every tenth of a mile of a race did not help it go any faster on this day.
My middle child stole the show in this event with his classic sprint-to-the-finish style. He finished with a slower than usual time (he is de-conditioned as he is not on the cross country team this year) but in the last stretch of the race, he found himself competing against a woman who seemed determined to pass him. We all found this peculiar, as most of the time, people seem to give children courtesy and not strain too hard to pull ahead of them:
And while I don't know what this woman's motivation was, I am remarkably grateful that she gave my child an enormous challenge that his twelve year old ego felt compelled to conquer. Who on earth wants to be beaten by a woman in a pink night gown? I suspect he did not take the race too seriously for most of the course. After all, he was running in his own back yard and he and his teammate (who is fourteen and not a fan of running at all) were both indifferent about their time. But what a way to finish a race, kid.
We had a great time at this event and I look forward to a lifetime of family centered running with my boys. May they always remember the struggle and victory on their day of running in old lady muu-muus.
After this race I registered for The Jersey Shore Half Marathon with hopes to gain a new PR in this distance. With such a low price and such a scenic (yet slightly unfamiliar) flat local course, how could I not?
I usually don't try hard to pass kids at the end of a race -- depending on my time, though. If I think I can sprint to the finish and have a PR or be under 24 minutes, then I'm going run as fast as I can pass who I need to pass. It's nothing personal.
ReplyDeleteAt the same time, I don't really like being passed right at the end of the race. I was running a 5K this summer and I had a decent time going but it was a really humid day and I knew I was falling short of PR. The coursed ended with a lap around a track, and as I came to the last straightaway I could hear the guy behind me sprinting to pass me at the end. "I don't think so, buddy", I thought and sprinted to keep my hold on 55th place. I turned around out of curiosity and it was a kid who was probably about 12! I kind of felt like a jerk.
(I'm always impressed with these 7th or 8th graders who'll fly by me on the way to a 20-minute 5K, too.)
It very well may have been that my son passed her first before we could see the two of them and thereby prompted this challenge on his own.
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