How bad do you want it?

My goal is not merely to finish my first marathon. I already know that I will- even if I have to hobble to the end. I have already decided that I want to finish so I know that I'm going to do whatever it takes. Pride will not stop me if my pace is too slow. Pain will not stop me and if needed, I will walk instead of run. I am going to finish. I have no logical reason not to. (insert rare/obscure happenstance disclaimer here)

I ran a 5k race (3.1 miles)this weekend and now have a new personal record. My older boys ran too. I am glad that I left with a new personal record(beating my previous best in a race I ran 6 years ago by 21 seconds)but the pride in this accomplishment does not compare to what my child blessed me to witness during this race.

Charles and I discussed how on the eve of his twelfth birthday on March twelfth, he will run a 5k and try and beat his personal record. I thought it would be a great way to spend his last day of being eleven years old and he agreed. As you can imagine, I feel exponentially blessed because I have children that run. (all three of them!) I had hoped to teach them that running is a great form of exercise that is both challenging and easy and does not require much of a monetary investment. I want them to take this knowledge with them into adulthood. There is nothing like being one with your body and willing yourself to move forward one step at a time and learning to alternate leading with the strength of your body, then the strength of your breathing. There is nothing like finishing a run that seemed daunting and impossible. There is nothing better than the challenge you face between you and yourself when you step out there propelled by nothing but the desire to remind yourself that you can indeed do it even when you think you can't. I want them to apply all of this to daily life as well and to know without doubt that there is great reward in a sense of accomplishment even when you do not receive a tangible prize. I want them to learn that if you push through and accept that there are parts of life that will be grueling and difficult, you can survive and achieve anything.

I'll back up a bit and mention that I gently reminded both of my boys that I planned to achieve a new personal record. Traditionally, I never finish ahead of them. I always make sure they are ahead of me for both safety and pride reasons, as silly as that sounds. This time, I wanted a little competition. I knew that we would propel each other if all bets were off. I teased Chris about the pending humiliation of being passed by his mother. I told Charlie that I would not run behind him, but that he better not get "smoked" by his mommy. Chris laughed at the mere thought of me finishing ahead of him, but honestly, I knew I had a good chance. He is slightly de-conditioned (wrestling ended and track season has not yet begun) and I am on a schedule that has me running an average of 20 miles a week.

When the race begins, we separate immediately and Chris is ahead but within my sight line and Charlie does just as I implored- he does not haul ass to keep up with us and he centers his mind on the race being against he and himself so he does not worry about the people (old men, overweight women, girls his age, etc.) around him. As we approach a hill my maternal instincts regret that I did not go over down-hill running with either of my boys and I start wondering if one of them will lose their bearing while running downhill. I consider turning around to meet up with Charlie but I decide that I need to trust him and keep running in spite of my concern.

I manage to finish one second behind Christopher. In the end, I couldn't have passed him if I tried, but during the final stretch, I doubt either of us had much steam left to pass the other and so we paced together. And I am stoked that my kid gave it 100% and I know that without the challenge of him just ahead, I might not have achieved my goal.

After I go through the finish chute, I run back to see Charlie to the end. I do not have to run far. I see him turn the corner at full steam smiling and striding wide. His arms are pumping ferociously. He is bright red and his eyes widen when he sees me. After a quick glance and nod in my direction, he looks toward the finish and keeps going with everything he's got so that he can achieve his new personal record. There is no way I can keep up and so I watch from about 100 feet away as he raises his arms at the finish line. He is elated and exhausted. His gladness for the end and for his new record are equally portioned.

You cannot truly capture determination in a photo or a description. You cannot learn determination by your parent telling you what it is or how to go about it. It comes from within. It cannot be queued or summoned in attempt to impress or satisfy others. It's straight from the heart. On the eve of Charles' twelfth birthday, I was blessed to watch him and his heart. So on this day, it wasn't about the run.