I coached a running club over the last 9 weeks. The kids were totally awesome and it REALLY got some of the kids into running. One of the kids ran his first 5k recently and ran it in under 28 minutes. Another one of my kids participates in our middle school's track competition (ok, he did that last year before I ever came along). I love that they love this!
There is one student in particular that I have known for a while. She is smart and sweet and I was excited to see her signed up for our running club. She ran some, walked some, but never gave up. I was pleasantly surprised that she eagerly registered for a 5K trail run with me. *I* hadn't even ran a 5k TRAIL race at this point, but I thought, "This will be great! K and I can do this together!" And we did.
Street runs are easy for me, trail runs... not so much! BUT I wasn't about to let K know that this would be a hard run. I wanted her to experience her first race with the giddiness we all do. I wanted her to have the stomach nerves (a little), experience pinning on her first bib, listening to the announcer, and starting the run. I wanted her to know what it's like to wonder why in the world you're running! I wanted her to remember there is a finish line. I wanted her to proudly wear her first 5K shirt. :)
Race Day: My teacher friend and I show up pretty early. We wait a while in the car and then decide to get out and warm up. As we are walking I hear "Can I join?" It was K. She had been there well before we and I was thrilled to see her. Fast forward to the race. I had told her if she wanted to run, we would run, if she wanted to walk a bit, we would walk. I was staying with her to the end. I could sense the nervousness... maybe it was mine. The race begins. We ran a good while, over mud, through mud, around rocks, uphill. We ran. We ran. We decided to walk a little bit. I kept telling her to walk fast lest her body start cooling off and use more energy to warm back up. I was constantly saying "You can do this!", "Walk fast or trot!", "You've trained for this! You're half-way there!" I thought of every positive thing I could say to motivate K. She AMAZED me.
Let me say that this trail was not easy for experienced runners, let alone beginners or first time 5K'ers. I was and AM so proud of K for her strength; mentally and physically. As we neared the end of mile three and rounded a bend I said "K, your mom can see you now... we are running to the finish line!". As if on cue we hear "My baby!!! My baby!" or something like that, I couldn't hear her mom clearly because I was yelling, too. We had a good pace and about a tenth of a mile from the finish I began to YELL, "SPRINT! SPRINT! SPRINT!" and she did. Her legs being longer than mine, she finished before I did by a second. I was laughing from yelling "Sprint", and I realized, I was tearing up. Her mom was there, at the finish line, throwing her arms around her telling her how proud she was. She had done it. Tears. Finished. Pride. Yes, I can!
I told her all along it didn't matter what anyone thought, it mattered that she was proud of herself. Today as we both sported our race shirts at school I put my arm around her and asked how she was, "Sore!" she responded. "Are you mad that I pushed you?" I asked. "No!" she said. We both smiled. She was proud, but I think I am prouder.
We don't do anything alone. She pushed me in ways she will never know. I spoke to her the words I needed to hear myself. I needed to know that what I was doing mattered to someone. I needed to feel successful; not for myself but in helping someone else.
K is going to middle school next year. I am losing one of my students, but I just might be gaining a running buddy!
Monday, April 15, 2013
Running To or Running From?
Running To or Running From?
Many of you know that I love to run. I am not a big time marathon runner, but I am a distance runner wannabe. I trained last year for a half marathon and blew my knee enough that I knew for me, 5k races and maybe a little more distance would be about perfect for me. Disappointed and distraught, I kept running, trotting... ok, trying to not fall while moving forward. I am classified as a happy runner.
Today something horrific happened to fellow runners, helpers, family members, and all of us, as Americans. Hearing about the bombing at the Boston Marathon my heart sank. Who in the world would want to hurt runners? Runners are pretty harmless, right? My mind was swimming as I remembered my precious neighbor who qualified and was thrilled to go to Boston to run. Pounding my keypad as quickly as I could, I found that he and his family were ok, but not everyone gets that peace today and it hurts my heart.
People fall in love with running for many reasons. Stories of why and how people began their jogging journey are as abundant and unique as the different types of running shoes available (my faves are purple, by the way). One reason I have heard time and time again and one reason I came back to running, is stress. Running is a great way to pound into the pavement the people with whom you are frustrated without really ever having to confront them at all. Running is a great way to have alone time with God. It's a great way to ward off guilt when you want a cupcake, a glass of wine, or simply want to stay in the clothes in your closet because you really can't afford to go on a shopping spree.
Running is great for your heart, your spirit, and your health (maybe not the knees so much). But when I was talking to a friend the other day, I said something that even surprised me. I said, "Sometimes I don't know if I'm running to, or running from." Being a reflective person, she said "That's an interesting statement, what do you mean?" I elaborated that when I run sometimes I feel like I'm escaping, running from the hard things I hear at work, the sadness that I know, the uncertainty that is life. I'm running from "You can't", "You are such", "You will never", "You aren't". I don't know that this is such a bad thing. But I'm also running to. Sometimes, well, a lot of times, I pray when I run. Sometimes I see myself running to God. I run to happy places. I run to memories of laughter, a knowledge of present peace, of "You are", "You can", "You will".
This may or may not make sense for anyone. If so, I'm glad. Seeing the runners on the TV at the Boston Marathon, I couldn't help but wonder how giddy they were at the start of this day. You have to qualify to run the Boston, so I imagine they were proud, excited, nervous, and in a "pinch me, I'm dreaming" state; especially the first timers. What were they running to? It wasn't just the finish line, I assure you.
For the horrific people or person responsible for taking the lives of the two (as of now) victims, one just reported being an 8 yr. old boy, the drive behind those runners, their families, and the helpers is greater than you can destroy. It has also been reported that many of the runners finished the 26.2 miles and ran to the hospital immediately to donate blood. They were running to: help, care, love, save.
My run is a piddly jog really, but there is so much soul searching in that time. I imagine there was soul searching beyond our imaginations today, before and after the bombing, but especially now. I imagine more people will be out running. Running to, and running from. Mostly running to.
Today something horrific happened to fellow runners, helpers, family members, and all of us, as Americans. Hearing about the bombing at the Boston Marathon my heart sank. Who in the world would want to hurt runners? Runners are pretty harmless, right? My mind was swimming as I remembered my precious neighbor who qualified and was thrilled to go to Boston to run. Pounding my keypad as quickly as I could, I found that he and his family were ok, but not everyone gets that peace today and it hurts my heart.
People fall in love with running for many reasons. Stories of why and how people began their jogging journey are as abundant and unique as the different types of running shoes available (my faves are purple, by the way). One reason I have heard time and time again and one reason I came back to running, is stress. Running is a great way to pound into the pavement the people with whom you are frustrated without really ever having to confront them at all. Running is a great way to have alone time with God. It's a great way to ward off guilt when you want a cupcake, a glass of wine, or simply want to stay in the clothes in your closet because you really can't afford to go on a shopping spree.
Running is great for your heart, your spirit, and your health (maybe not the knees so much). But when I was talking to a friend the other day, I said something that even surprised me. I said, "Sometimes I don't know if I'm running to, or running from." Being a reflective person, she said "That's an interesting statement, what do you mean?" I elaborated that when I run sometimes I feel like I'm escaping, running from the hard things I hear at work, the sadness that I know, the uncertainty that is life. I'm running from "You can't", "You are such", "You will never", "You aren't". I don't know that this is such a bad thing. But I'm also running to. Sometimes, well, a lot of times, I pray when I run. Sometimes I see myself running to God. I run to happy places. I run to memories of laughter, a knowledge of present peace, of "You are", "You can", "You will".
This may or may not make sense for anyone. If so, I'm glad. Seeing the runners on the TV at the Boston Marathon, I couldn't help but wonder how giddy they were at the start of this day. You have to qualify to run the Boston, so I imagine they were proud, excited, nervous, and in a "pinch me, I'm dreaming" state; especially the first timers. What were they running to? It wasn't just the finish line, I assure you.
For the horrific people or person responsible for taking the lives of the two (as of now) victims, one just reported being an 8 yr. old boy, the drive behind those runners, their families, and the helpers is greater than you can destroy. It has also been reported that many of the runners finished the 26.2 miles and ran to the hospital immediately to donate blood. They were running to: help, care, love, save.
My run is a piddly jog really, but there is so much soul searching in that time. I imagine there was soul searching beyond our imaginations today, before and after the bombing, but especially now. I imagine more people will be out running. Running to, and running from. Mostly running to.
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