The Exhausted Dad: More running commentary from a reluctant runner
Cross country running makes its third appearance of the fall season in this column. Did someone recruit Bill Buley to write “The Exhausted Dad” or what?
Three of my four kids finished their cross country season last week with their second meet. My oldest son, 11, missed the first meet with a stomach bug, a fact he repeated at least three times a day in the week leading up to the second meet. He wanted a proper excuse when either one of his younger siblings ran the mile faster.
My 7-year-old son did indeed run the mile faster than his older brother, though he never gloated to his brother or anyone else in the house because, as he puts it, “Everyone knows I’m the fasted person in our family.”
Then there’s my 9-year-old daughter. She’s never gone to a cross-country practice or meet without vehemently complaining about how much she hates running. Yet, she refuses to quit. She will never NOT do something that her brothers do. Anything they can do, she can do … well, better isn’t the right word. But she certainly demands more credit.
For this second meet, I decided to spectate the event along the final stretch of the course (instead of cheering them on as they crossed the finish line). I wanted a better view, and I wanted to see them push themselves to the brink during the final few seconds of the race.
Let me be clear: None of these children came remotely close to qualifying for the third meet. These are MY children, after all. They do not have elite genetics for athletic performance.
As I expected, however, my youngest son transitioned into a full sprint as he made the final turn. He was racing neck-and-neck with his friend, who he managed to beat by “.0001” seconds at the last meet. This time, he claims he beat him by “.0002 seconds.” Anyway, I tried to record him as he passed me, but I’ll be honest, all these 7-year-old boys have the same haircut and wear the same running shirt. Kids look the same from a distance! Yes, I finally identified him early enough to cheer his name, but I definitely didn’t push the record button in time.
My oldest son finished near the end of his grade level, as he expected. He limped past me looking exhausted. However, the half-bottle of hair gel he applied that morning kept his side comb hairdo in perfect, crispy place. He’s a stylish kid, if only I could convince him to not wear the same hoodie to school every single day.
My daughter, bless her sweet little heart, honestly looked like how I would look like after running a mile. She was drenched with sweat, her face beat red, glasses fogged with an expression of misery. I waved at her (and recorded her easily, due to the speed of racer), and she glared at me as if it was my fault her body felt such pain.
She also finished near the back of her grade class. After the race she told me about her chest pain, her leg pain, her finger pain … all the pains. “I really hate running,” she said about 50 times in an hour.
Later that night we went online to check their race times. Turns out, my daughter beat her race time by a full minute, and she beat her last year’s best by two minutes. If you heard her talk about the race, you’d think she set a world record.
“I can’t believe I ran so fast.”
“I improved. I significantly improved.”
“Two whole minutes faster is pretty incredible.”
“I am so proud of myself!”
Then she finished the evening with words I simply couldn’t believe:
“I wish cross country went for the entire year. I can’t wait for next year!”
Then she clenched her shoulder, which also suffered a mystery injury on the course.
“But I want to be clear, I still hate running!”
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Tyler Wilson is a freelance writer, full-time student and parent to four kids, ages 7-13. He is tired. He can be reached at twilson@cdapress.com.
The Exhausted Dad