Do you remember what it was like to be in high school? What about junior high? The desire to find acceptance, to fit in yet be noticeable. To stand out without sticking too far out. To be your best and be known for your strengths while hoping like hell that your weaknesses are not what define you.
This is the A-Number-1 reason I did not participate in school sports.
I attended ONE practice session for the high school track team and was by far the slowest, least coordinated and most out-of-shape girl that showed up. The rest of the girls were polite enough NOT to laugh at me and some were even encouraging and helpful. But I was humiliated. I woke up so sore the next day that I could barely move and even though the coach did her best to try and persuade me to keep at it, I refused to show up for the second practice. I would not endure that humiliation again. I spent the remainder of my high school years living in envy of the girls who ran, played or cheered. They had this talent and gift that I desperately wanted but would never have. I had placed myself out of the "athlete" category at the age of fifteen. With all the wisdom and insight that fifteen year olds typically possess, I decided it was best to resign myself to a life of inactivity.
Let's fast forward to about fourteen years later when I ran my very first 5k. I started going to the gym about four months prior to this race because I wanted to lose the rest of the weight that I had gained while pregnant with my third child. I remember the THRILL of running two miles in 30 minutes on the treadmill! It was an amazing accomplishment as it was something I never thought to even try before. I was soon able to run a little longer and a little faster and I decided that I would try this road race thing just to give myself some incentive to keep at it. I worried like hell about finishing last but just kept telling myself that it wouldn't hurt to try this. Much to my surprise I finished in the middle of the pack. Not fast (duh, I knew that wouldn't happen) but not incredibly slow either. I ran an entire 3.1 miles without stopping!!! I was so excited! A few months of spending twenty to thirty minutes a day on the treadmill was all I needed to accomplish this?!?! Amazing. I wish I knew sooner that I had this in me!
After the elation waned, I found myself remembering that longing I had in high school. How I watched the girls in their varsity jackets with envy, knowing I would never ever know what it felt like to wear one. How I was afraid to run in front of anyone because I was afraid that I would be too slow or tire too easily or just look ridiculous in front of everyone else. I knew that there was no way I was ever going to be fast so I didn't need to display this fact to the rest of the world.
I'm still not fast.
But it's different now. I still always finish somewhere in the middle of the pack every time I run a race. (Ok, ok... I'll admit that I have placed in my age group a few times, but...) It has been seven years since my first 5k. Since then, I have run thousands of miles. There is a vast collection of medals,prizes and t-shirts from countless races in my home. To date, I've run three marathons and six half marathons and countless shorter-distance races. Every starting line is a blessing and honor. Every finish line builds both my confidence and my humility. Each person who stands there with me at the start- whether they finish far ahead of me or far behind has earned their victory with their own will and strength and might. It isn't all about the competition against others. It isn't about being THE BEST. It's all about giving YOUR BEST and being proud of your accomplishments and efforts.
What if there were truly a way to remove competition from school fitness programs? What if we could teach young people that they don't need to be one of the best in order to enjoy a sport? What if the next generation undoubtedly knew that fitness doesn't require athletic talent? A mile is still a mile even when you run slow. It's still an accomplishment. It's still 1400 strides toward a healthier body. I am grateful for what I have accomplished, but how I wish I knew all of these things when I was fifteen. I wish I knew that serenity, contentment and peace could be found by lacing up my sneakers and stepping outside EVEN if I never outran anyone else. I wish I knew that stress and anxiety could be washed away by going out for a run. I wish I experienced the simplistic joy of willing my body forward. I know all of these things now, and my children are learning them too. They all enjoy and understand the challenge they impose against themselves when they step out to the start of a race. The mother within me beamed when I heard my son answer a simple question while he was still DYING from finishing a five mile race. He was asked by his non-runner friend "Why would you do this to yourself?" and he simply said "It feels good to finish."
So there we have it. Take the competition and pressure to perform for others out of the equation and... it just feels good to finish. Well said, oh fourteen year old boy of few words. Well said. Do you remember feeling that way after phys ed class? Yeah. Me neither.
Showing posts with label whining. Show all posts
Showing posts with label whining. Show all posts
9/25/11
Family 10k "relay" in all-too-familiar territory
Two thirds of my children and I participated in a 10k relay on Saturday. (Teams of two, 5k legs.) 7 friends joined us for the Boardwalk Relay Against Hunger which was also deemed a Pajama Race! Don't my boys look lovely in their muu-muus and shower caps? And the guys with afro wigs and curlers in their short nighties stole the show. Do I even need to mention that we had the "Best PJs" award in the bag? (note: dressing men/boys as women/girls always seems to win a costume category...)
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?
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?
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