The Exhausted Dad: Cross country running: The great debate
My 9-year-old daughter earned the nickname Wild Card in her first year of life.
She’s the kind of unpredictable who would cut the brakes of her own getaway car.
As a baby, she rarely followed a set routine. Some nights she’d want to sleep in your arms. On other nights, she’d scream until you laid her alone in her crib. Most nights, however, she’d want to roll around on the floor and kick her feet until she finally decided to sleep. It could happen at 8:15, 11:45, 3 a.m., but the fall asleep time would never repeat. Just like the velociraptors in “Jurassic Park" … they never attack the same part of the fence twice.
She immediately took offense to the nickname Wild Card once she learned what it meant.
Her (if anyone dared to say those two words): “I AM NOT A WILD CARD!”
Spoken like a true Wild Card.
At age 9, my daughter still dislikes the nickname and continues her unpredictable decision-making. With that background information in place, you will better understand the maddening Cross Country Saga of 2024.
Last fall, my three elementary school-age kids participated in cross country. The commitment included three, one-hour practices a week for about six to seven weeks, plus two cross country meets with multiple participating schools.
All three of them were among the slowest participants across the district. Not because of athletic ability. Rather, they valued the art of “pacing oneself.” No need to hurry, they apparently thought. The tortoise, slow and steady and what have you.
My boys enjoyed the experience throughout the season. They prided themselves on going just a little bit faster each time.
My daughter, the Wild Card, did not like cross country one bit, or so she told us every single day of the season.
“I hate running. There’s no point to just running!”
After a couple weeks, my wife and I told her she didn’t need to continue if she truly didn’t like it. As parents, we believe in the value of kids making their own choices, which can include walking away from things that bring about little value or satisfaction.
“You mean quit?” she asked. “I’m not going to quit.”
So she stuck with it! At her own pace … while complaining constantly. In one of the meets, I’m pretty sure she walked 98% of the track. She jogged out the last little stretch, I think, just to make it look like she put in a fair effort.
Flash forward to this fall. The boys brought home their permission slips to join cross country again.
When my daughter saw their forms, she said, “Ugh. Cross country!”
The next day, she brought home her own form and asked us to sign it.
I asked, “I thought you hated cross country?”
Her: “What? Hate!? I mean, I don’t like it, but I still want to do it.”
The form didn’t need to be returned to school for a few days, so I gave her a cooling off period to give the commitment some thought. She flip-flopped at least six times over the next couple days:
“I don’t like running. I never want to run again for no reason.”
“Running is fine! It’s not my favorite, but I’m pretty good at it.”
“I don’t think I want to get up for practice on Wednesdays. I don’t want to run in the morning!”
“I should probably do cross country because I’m faster than the boys.”
(She said this in front of her brothers, obviously. They did not appreciate the trolling).
“I’m already doing gymnastics. That’s way more fun than stupid cross country.”
When the deadline for the form arrived, I asked her if she wanted me to sign it.
“I’ve been telling you this whole time I wanted to do it!”
Wild Card.
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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
