Way way back in October, I decided to join my school's Marathon Kids program. For someone like me, running 26.2 miles over the course of four months is a breeze. I could knock that out in a week, if I had to.
Today I completed my run. I was handed the shiniest of gold medals as I dashed across the finish line.
Being in my program meant that we met with other runners on Tuesday and Thursday mornings before school. How lucky we all are that my school is sitting right at the edge of the Town Lake trail (which really has a different name because 1) it isn't even Town Lake anymore and 2) the trail itself is named after some people who donated a lot of money to make it as lovely as it is).
There were too many mornings that I struggled with some issues stemming from being hyper-competitive. Even though I am the youngest runner in my school, I am the fastest; that is not disputed by anyone. The purpose of the program was not to race. ("forget the rest and do your best," our leader would tell us at the start of each run.) But I can't not race. I would run and run and run and get way ahead of everyone . . . always looking back to see who was catching up . . . allowing runners to catch up . . . and then I'd cry. fiercely. We resolved this by practicing our running on other days of the week too, just me and my mom.
We've also made some trips to a nearby track. This allows me the opportunity to practice my sprints though I am probably best suited to being a middle distance runner. My latest goal: to run 100m in less than 9.58 seconds before my next birthday. Wish me luck. I'm close.
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