Keagan ran his last 5K of the summer this week, and through this race series, he had developed a love and a hate for running. He dreads race day but feels so accomplished when he finishes a race. He hates standing on the starting line knowing what lies ahead but loves getting to run the last lap on the track. I've told him running just might not be his "thing" because there is so much prayer and wishes for extreme weather on race day and so much disappointment when the races are never cancelled. However, he's told me over and over he wants to run track next spring and wants to run the 4x100 or the 200. When I explain that includes conditioning and, believe it, or not, running long distances, he acts like that's no big deal.
I.Dont.Get.Him.
Last night, he had the worst race time. On the starting line, he told me he already felt stomach cramps. After the race, he told me he thought he would throw up at the first mile. He was heaving at the end of the race even though he trotted most of the circuit. He kicked hard the last 200 meters, but the last 25 meters he just couldn't do it any more. To add insult to injury, he got beaten by his middle-aged, middle school principal.
Today he wants to make sure I don't miss the track team parent meeting next spring.
Oh.Lord.Help.Me.
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