Running "Throo" The Zoo

Today was the 2012 Throo the Zoo 5K run/walk.  I ran this race last year and had a good time with it.  It is a fast course and travels "throo" the local zoo.  I had planned on my son and older daughter running it with me this year because it is a short, fun run.  My six year old daughter, however, nearly begged to run the course with her older sister and brother, and caving in like some pushover father, I signed up the entire house.

Now keep in mind that my youngest has never participated in any running events outside of school PE class.  This would be her first.  I honestly expected this "race" to last about 300 yards before it turned into a quality father-daughter stroll through the rest of the course.  Wrong!  With her older brother and sister running ahead (this being their third 5K they were of course now veteran runners) this kid turned it on and practically kept it on the entire 3.1 mile course.  And, as is a trait that is uniquely her own, she never stopped talking the entire way.  What follows are the excerpted highlights from my run with her.

Start
Madia:  "Are we going to win?"
Me: "Crossing the finish line is winning."
(About 10 seconds of quiet contemplation follows.  Believe me, for her, that is an eternity.) 

1/2 Mile
Madia:  "Are we almost finished?"
Me:  "No."
Madia:  "This is a long way."

WTH?  Is she running on air?

Mile 1
Her running jacket comes off and it suddenly becomes all business. The kid kicks it into high gear.

1.5 Miles
She spots a race photographer.

Madia:  "Is that the paparazzi?"
Me:  "Yes."
(Full minute of Madia singing Lady Gaga's Paparazzi)

Madia:  "I'm going to have a mansion and servants when I grow up."
Me:  "Good.  I'll live with you."

Mile 2
Madia:  "There are a lot of people running."
Me:  "Yes."
Madia:  "I don't think we're going to win.  Adults run really fast."
Me:  "Winning is making it to the finish line."
Madia:  "Do I get a medal when I finish?"
Me:  "No.  This is a small race.  No one gets a medal."
Madia:  "That's not very fair."

2.75 Miles
She can now hear the cheering of the crowds along the final stretch to the finish line.

Me:  "Do you hear the people cheering?"
Madia:  "Are they cheering for kids too?"
Me:  "Yes."
(The pace suddenly increases exponentially.)

Finish
Madia:  "Daddy, did we win?"
Me:  "Yes."

The race was left immediately in the past and her sole purpose turned toward finding a PowerBar.  She had one after meeting me at the finish line of other races and now she was determined that she had earned the right to have her own.  I couldn't contest that in the least.

Paparrazi!  Hard to believe, but not posed.

People make a big deal out of raising your children.  They write books about it, give seminars and lectures, conduct classes, and put "experts" on talk-shows to spew all the latest tips on rearing your progeny.  And while it certainly is a big deal, none of of that ivory tower crap can substitute for getting down in the trenches with your kids.

You do your best to prepare your children for the "real" world by giving them the basic tools to survive - an education, some street smarts, a little common sense experience, and hopefully a certain moral and ethical standard as a gauge.  You also try to ingrain in them habits that will serve them long after your direct influence is no longer an immediate factor (i.e. "If you don't -insert directive-, then you are going straight to bed!").  One of the ways you do this is by leading the way and serving as an example.  I can't say that when it has come to my family that I've always been very good at this; I've never had a good blueprint for it.  But it suddenly struck me today, as I was running alongside my daughter, that I was being given the rare opportunity to see it as it was happening: a little girl who found being fit and active, running a race with a few thousand other people, to be the most natural thing in the world.  I only hope that I can do as well with the rest of it...