Every year my hometown hosts a very popular 10k. In 2022 this race marked my return to the running community so it holds a special place in my heart. Unfortunately, I have not been able to run it in the past two years. I was beyond excited that I would be participating this year, and, as an added bonus, my daughter L had agreed to join me.
My 14 year old daughter is not a runner. I have tried to get her into running for a while, hoping that I would craft the perfect little running buddy. She has shown some interest by joining in running club last year. (She hated it.) She even checked out the cross country team. (5 a.m. practices? No, thank you.)
I was pleasantly surprised when she asked to run the 10k with me. I gave her plenty of chances to chicken out. Once I submitted her race fee, I told her she was committed. I told her immediately to start doing some walk-run-interval training.
Fast-forward 3 months from signing up to race week. She has walked maybe three times on the treadmill. I know she isn’t ready, but I figured we could probably still make good time with walk-run intervals. I had made peace with the fact that this wasn’t going to be an actual race for me. No PR’s would be broken. My only focus was making sure L had a good time.
Two days before the race L informs me that two of her friends will also be running it. Did this hurt my mom heart a little bit? Yeah, maybe. I was thinking this would be 6.2 miles of her and me having a great time jamming to Taylor Swift. I also knew that she is fourteen and her friends are her whole world. We would just have a big girl-running group. I was down for it.
Race morning we woke up and sipped some coffee together. It was perfect. We drove into town and picked up each friend from their home. We signed in at the race pavilion and stood around stretching. Looking at the cloudy sky, I was hoping the rain would hold off until after the race. I soon realized that I was a fourth wheel of the group. The girls were huddled together. They laughed over hushed whispers. Meanwhile, I spoke to adults that I have come to recognize from past races. I texted my husband and shared my disappointment with the morning. He said let them be girls and you race on ahead. I didn’t want that though. I was determined to stay as a group and bond with L.
We lined up and were off. We rounded the first corner and the girls were already walking. They were laughing and holding hands. I slowed down and walked. It was awkward though. I was in front or behind them. Off to the side. They were in their own world, and I clearly wasn’t in it with them. They weren’t excluding me on purpose; they were just having a great time being together. It was then that I decided to take my husband’s advice and race on ahead. I told them to stay together and that I would see them at the end.
I felt great. I held a 10:35-11:00 pace comfortably. My legs felt great, and I wasn’t gasping for air. I probably could have pushed myself more because my pace felt so easy. My head, though, was with L. I was hoping she was having fun and that she was not too far behind me.
As I hit mile 5 the sky started to darken. A few drops of rain started to fall. I picked up the pace and finished strong with an end time of 1:08:33. Not a 10k PR, but a PR for the course. Last time I ran this race I finished in 1:16.38. And that took everything I had. This time I definitely knew I could have pushed myself more.
Right as I crossed the finish line the bottom fell out and rain came pouring down. I got under a tent and checked to see where L was. I was surprised to see she was back at mile 3, nowhere near the end. It was raining and thundering. I called my husband. He immediately wanted me to go pick her up in the car. I wanted her to finish. I wasn’t about to wait at the finish line for her though. I started to walk back through the course and through the rain until I found her.
As I walked back, passing runners of all sorts still in it to finish it, the rain was not stopping. This wasn’t a gentle downpour. This was a full on thunderstorm, complete with thunder and lightning. My clothes were soaked. I started getting stressed. I was thinking maybe I should have got the car, but, now, to turn around and get back to the car would just waste time. I kept walking with a fast pace, silently cursing myself for leaving her, for having her do this, when I knew she really wasn’t ready for the distance. I passed small kids, elderly grandparents, fire fighters in full gear. No girls.
I walked almost a mile and a half back. I finally found the three girls. One guy followed them. A police car lights flashing was bringing up the end of the race. The girls were laughing, skipping, practically dancing in the rain, enjoying what I could only describe as pure girlhood.
I pushed them that last mile. I made them power walk, coaching them like a drill sergeant. We rounded that last corner and saw the finish line. L and one of her friends ran ahead. I walked with the third girl. “They call out your name when you cross?” She asked. “Oh yeah, this is a big deal. You just finished 6.2 miles. And in the rain!” She smiled. “I can’t believe I did it.”
I took their picture. Three rain soaked girls with medals around their necks and smiles on their faces. I couldn’t be more proud of L. The day wasn’t what I thought it would be. Maybe in some ways it was better. Could have done without the rain though.
L has declared this will be her last 10k as she is retiring from running. (I haven’t given up yet. I will always quietly hope she falls in love with running like I did.)
Next week I start my training for the Chicago marathon! Stay tuned for updates on how training for my 2nd full marathon goes!
Average_girlrun 