For the past two years, my boys have raced in occasional 5Ks (that's 3.1 miles). Sam, who is the ripe old age of 11, told me yesterday he wants to race in the St. Anthony Pioneer Days 10K (and that's 6.2 miles) race.
Being the supportive Mom I am, I said no way. Nope. Uh-uh.
Okay, not unless you do some training first. So I suggested he go out on a little run, maybe get two or three miles in to start training. He begged that I let him run around town instead of just around the neighborhood. We looked at a map and set the parameters of where he could run, and I told him he had to be home in an hour (I'm all about letting the kids loose - as long as it's in an enclosed area and time limit :) Hyper-vigilant? Maybe. But I'd rather be too careful than have something bad happen.)
He was so excited to be independent. He used my armband to hold the phone and use the Nike+ app, and I sent a Hammer flask of water with him. He got his playlist going, ear buds in, water in hand, and set off on an adventure. After 45 minutes with him gone, I began to get a little anxious. At 55 minutes I was thinking of grabbing the keys and the other kids to go in search of Sam. But then he appeared, red faced and grinning with the Runner's High. He had just run 6.26 miles in 57 minutes. That's a 9 minute mile on his first run out.
Alright, I guess I can let him run that 10K race now.
We're both still floating on the high of his unexpected successful run yesterday. He's been adamant about signing up for football this fall and I've been trying to talk him out of it (his lean body just isn't built for it!). Now he's seriously considering cross-country instead. Hooray!
And while we're talking about running boys, I need to extol Oliver's (he's 9) running talent, too.
That boy can sprint. Holy cow, he's fast! On a short sprint, I can't keep up with Sam, and Sam can't keep up with Oliver. Right now Sam has speed and stamina, and Oliver has speed and speed. Me, I just have stamina. This is where life's not fair (after all, I'm the one doing all the training) but I could't be happier about it.
I'm tickled that my guys are faster than me and I can see my girls are well on their way to beating their
dear ol' mom, too. Yippee! (Honestly, though, if they don't want to be runners, that's fine. There are plenty of other things to do, too - not sure what, though).
Oliver told me yesterday that he thinks he might be more of a cyclist, like Dad. Bet that's just fine with Pops. :)