There was a BIG festival in town over the weekend.  Saturday morning at the festival they hold all sorts of races.  5-mile run.  3-mile walk.  2-mile run.  And kids races.  (I had been actually hoping to run the 5-mile race.  However, my absence from training made me think that I need to get back to training before I attempt that!)

Brian ran the 2-mile race kind of on a whim.  He did well.  Faster than he’s ever run it before.

We entered the kids in the Rookie Run — a 1/3-mile race for kids 6 & under running with their parents.  Since Christian LOVES to run, I thought this would be perfect.  (And Liv loves to try and keep up with him. 🙂 )

However, I didn’t take into account the throngs of people that would be there milling around with all of the noise that that number of people make.  Any time I tried to get Christian out of the wagon (his safe-zone), he would “wet noodle” and scream higher and louder than we’ve ever heard him scream before.  Sigh.  So, I picked him up and carried him over to the starting area.  Everyone was turning around looking at me wrestling my screaming, kicking, flailing child as we tried to wait patiently for them to blow the starting horn.

After what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only a couple of minutes), the horn blew.  I picked Christian up off of the cement, grabbed his hand, and said, “Let’s run!”  And run he did.

We had a hard time getting around people at first.  (I had parked us near the back, behind a bunch of little kids, just in case we never got out of the starting gate.)  Finally, the pack broke up and we were able to start pushing ourselves and getting around the other runners.

Christian got distracted a few of times by the rocks and the large lake on the side of the road, but I encouraged him to “keep running!” and he did.  Even though he was running with his croc-like shoes on (‘cuz they’re the ONLY ones that he’ll wear at the moment), he kept going.  (I’ll fight that battle another day!)

And we ran. At his pace.  I started to worry when we neared the finishing chutes and the course started to narrow and there were hundreds of people lining the road just cheering.  I was concerned that Christian would be overwhelmed and drop or run off of the course.  But he didn’t.  We continued to hold hands and just run.  And shoot around people.  My heart soared with pride for my little guy.  He was doing something he loved and he was being cheered by multitudes of people along the way.  I had to fight back a couple of tears.

He crossed the finish line with a grin on his toothless face.  He seemed proud as he shouted, “I did it!”.  And I was SO proud.  I don’t think everyone realized how much he had to overcome to complete this “short” race, but he did it!  And it was beautiful.

And Liv, she did great, too!  I was so proud of her for finishing because just before the race started she was complaining about how tired her legs were (as we had been walking quite a bit that morning).  She finished just 45-seconds behind Christian (and then had Daddy pick her up 😉 ).  Yay, Liv!

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