But my oldest is. He’s not the fastest as he races across the playground or the soccer field, but damn, that boy has endurance. Endurance that has him coasting past almost all of the competition when it comes to longer runs.
It started two years ago in first grade, at our school’s Fun Run fundraiser, where he not only completed the most laps in his grade during the thirty minute time period, but more than any child in first, second, or third.
So when he had the chance to join our school’s running club this year, he was rushing me out the door on the day of sign ups, as there were only 30 first-come-first-serve spots.
At the start of the year, the 30 third, fourth, and fifth graders ran their first timed 5K, a time they’d want to improve upon over the course of the fall. My son was a little bit disappointed because there was one child who beat his time of 28 minutes(and something like 10 seconds).
At the mid-point of the season, the boys ran another timed 5K. Again, my son came in second to a fifth grader. But he’d shaved two minutes off of his time, comin in at just over 26 minutes.
I never meant to be a dream crusher. I was so very proud of my son. I know I couldn’t run a 5K in that time. And yet, all it takes is a flippant comment….
“I don’t think I was running my fastest. Next time, I’m going to take two more minutes off my time. Maybe three. Or even four.”
Enter the dream crusher.
“Well, you might not.”
Ah, hell. I hate the term #momfail, but sometimes it’s appropriate…
What I meant was that his time was already so good that he shouldn’t be worried about it if his next timed run wasn’t faster. That I already thought he was doing a fantastic job.
I even googled average 5K times to justify my thoughts. He’s 8 and running a 5K in 26 minutes, which is about 8-10 minutes faster than the average 5K for the under 16 age group. Not that he can’t strive to improve, but damn. That’s already fast, right?
You know your argument is weak when you start pulling random facts off of Google to justify your mind wondering off into statistical probability instead of looking at the hopeful face in front of you and simply saying “I bet you will! You’re super fast!”
I don’t want to be that kind of mom. The kind that dismisses my child’s aspirations as being impossible and moves on without a second thought as to the impact my words could have.
Since then, I’ve been nothing but encouraging about his running. His team runs in a 5K race in town this weekend- and I’ll be there cheering him on.
Have you ever had a dream-crushing parenting oops?
Last Week’s Pour Your Heart Out Highlights
- Plan B from Embracing the Spectrum: “I walked in tears, thinking about Plan B. He had already tried to bite me before we left the house and bit his little brother instead. It would be foolish for me to try for another child. Honestly, I know my limits. I’m at my limit almost every day.”
- Eternal Optimism from 154 Hidden Court: “…how could an optimist survive in a house full of pessimists?”
- Kid Movies Need Kid Appropriate Music from There’s Just One Mommy: “‘Mommy, why are the girls all getting naked?’ asked my 6 year-old daughter from the backseat.”
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