A Runner, A Race, A Revelation

I watched my Boy run a mile or two this weekend.

Actually, I didn't see him run even one complete mile but rather I saw him pass by from various locations on the course as he was in the process of running those miles.

It was one of my favorite days...

...but it caused something deep in me to begin to wiggle a bit loose.

My Boy is highly motivated by a goal. I was on the edge of the conversation when he decided to train for the half marathon. I might even have suggested that he look at a few training plans...or that might have been his father. Other than making sure there was enough food around to fuel his training, I had very little to do with this event in his life.

Every now and again I'd tell him he was doing a great job sticking to the training schedule but never did I have to tell him to get out there and go.

{Pinning on race bib.}

 His dad made sure he had a good pair of running shoes in time to get them worn in before race day but never did the Boy have to be reminded to go and wear them in.

He's a normal teenage boy...if the case can be made that teenaged boys are normal. He has to be told to do plenty of things...normal why-am-I-having-to-tell-you-this-again things. He picks on his sisters, gets sick of doing school work, and I suspect that his teacher frequently gets on his last nerve.

He's good with a goal though and it was so fun to watch him see it through to the end.

{Cole, on far left in tennis ball yellow shoes. Photo Credit: Wheeling Intelligencer} 

My Man and I were waiting for Cole to appear at the top of a big hill and I was talking to my Mom on the phone. She, in typical grandmother form asked, "Can you see him the whole way?"

"Well, no," I answered, "I'm only able to see him here and there as we follow him around the course and then only when he passes by."

It struck me shortly after— and here's where that something inside me began to get a little shaky— it was going to be that way more and more with my Boy. He's going to be running his own race very soon. Less and less of the time will I be in constant view of him.

I'll be somewhere on the course cheering him on, knowing where he is but not being able to be with him as he takes each step as I has been thus far in our partnership. Sooner than not, I'm going to have to rely on the training that has already taken place to carry him from one point to another, from one goal to the next, across the finish line.

It was encouraging to watch him set a goal and chase after it. It was exhilarating to watch him succeed. It would have been so great if I'd gotten a picture of him crossing the finish line...but I missed him. I didn't see him coming down the block until it was too late to aim the camera…I was looking for my Boy and missed snapping a picture of the Young Man running the last block of the race.

Happily there were other camera's than mine at the finish.

One half marathon down…the rest of his life to go!