Last Saturday, my 8-year-old ran his first 5K.
He’s always been my cheerleader for all my races, enthusiastically waving homemade signs when he sees me approaching, stretching his hand out for a quick high-five as I rush past. He’s the first to run up and congratulate me after a race, giving me a fierce hug, no matter how sweaty or gross I may be.
Buddy enjoys running, too. Well, kinda. Remember when he won those kids races at the PawSox 5K over the summer? Quick sprints, that’s his thing. Like mother, like son. But endurance? Ehhh. Not so much.
But I thought this might be something he and I could do together, so we talked around the holidays about training for the Shamrock Shuffle 5K, which benefits his elementary school.
And then we experienced Snowmageddon 2015 and we got out to train all of twice. Although those two times we headed out to the track were so much fun. He’d look over at me and grin. And then I remembered why we were doing this.
But I could tell he was nervous in the weeks leading up to the race. “How many miles again?” he’d ask, warily. I could see him doing the math and coming to the conclusion that, nope, he’s never run 3 miles in his whole life.
On race morning — which was cold and damp, with light rain — the complaining began in earnest. “Why are we running this?” “I don’t want to run.” “I hate running.”
And I knew it was going to be a long morning.
I admit, the whole thing was a strange experience for me. I felt this bizarre mix of utter pride at what my son was accomplishing, and utter frustration when he said he HAD to stop. Was he really tired? Was he throwing in the towel? Was he nervous that he was pushing his physical limits (something we’ve seen before)?
So I did my best cheerleader impersonation. I tried to stay positive the whole time, encouraging him, telling him I believed in him, that he needed to believe in himself. thinking of all those inspirational running mantras I’ve pinned on Pinterest.
The miles creeped by. He made slow and steady progress, and we took small walking breaks when we had to. Eventually we saw Dr. G. and Mimi (who, bless her heart, had remembered the cow bell I brought home from the Runner’s World event last summer and insisted we bring to the race) around the 3 mile mark, and I could tell Buddy was running out of gas.
“You’ve got this, you can do this, you’re almost there!” I pointed out the finish line just up ahead, and after a brief 10 second walk break, we took off, sprinting as fast as his tired legs could and crossing the finish line in about 38 minutes.
He toughed it out. He wanted to quit. But he didn’t. I’m so proud of him.
And even though he declared immediately afterward that he was “never doing this again,” the next day he said he’d “consider” running it again next year.
Like I said, like mother, like son.
Thinking about running a race with your child? Here are some lessons learned from my 5K experience with my son:
1. Kids need practice/training. Yeah, I know this seems pretty obvious, but many people think of kids as little balls of energy who can just keep going and going and going. Yep, that’s absolutely true, but dive bombing off your couch for three hours does not mean he or she can just go out and run a 5K. Because while there’s the physical part, there’s also the mental piece, which I think parents tend to forget about. While more training would have certainly helped him physically, I now know that it would have given him the confidence, and shown him that he could really do this. He was definitely plagued by some self-doubt during the race. Something I know about quite well.
2. Prepare to be a teacher. I’m certainly not a running coach, but I’d constantly remind him to “breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth” and do what we call “posture checks” to check our form and make sure he wasn’t leaning forward too much or waving his arms around like a crazy person (and wasting precious energy in the meantime). He found this comforting and reassuring. It almost made me wish I had done some more research on pieces of running advice that resonates well with kids. Maybe next time.
3. Embrace your inner cheerleader. It’s tough keeping that smile on your face for 35+ minutes. And after the first mile, I ran out of new material. I had used up all my “C’mon, you got this!” and “I know you can do it!” and “I believe in you!” Eventually, I lapsed into a random stream of conversation — just to distract him from how uncomfortable he felt — yet every few minutes I’d try to come up with something to keep him motivated.
4. Respect the 5K distance. Many runners, myself included, take the 5K distance for granted. You know, that whole cocky,”Oh, it’s just a 5K” mentality. But it’s still three. freaking. miles. That’s no joke, whether you’re 8 or 38 or 58. Running in the back of the pack, and watching my son struggle and push himself through this distance, gave me a new sense of perspective I didn’t realize I needed.
5. Walking breaks are fine. This was a tough one for me because I couldn’t tell if Buddy was really pooped or if he was “giving up,” but whenever he needed to stop and walk, I tried to put a time limit on it, so he knew this wasn’t an extended stroll. I would say, “Ok, let’s walk for 30 seconds,” and then count out loud. I think this also helped him mentally prepare to start running again.
6. Make it a game. For some reason, this didn’t work with Buddy, which I was kind of surprised by, but I tried to get him to do things like count the runners we passed, or focus on the next telephone up ahead and run there without stopping. When he caught sight of a friend up ahead, I suggested we sprint to catch up. While he wasn’t having any of it this particular day, I suspect had he felt more comfortable in himself as a runner, he would have totally been into these sorts of games.
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Lucie Palka says
This post comes at a great time. My twin sister just announced that she’ll be running with her son on Mother’s Day! I’ll pass along these tips, they might come in handy for her!