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With my husband being out of town for a few weeks on business, I am left to entertain myself and other inhabitants of the Shoe (as my house is affectionately known) on weeknights and weekends. What is more entertaining than a fun run? Alex, Taylor, Peyton, Carson, Bennett and I rose semi-early and headed over to the Vail Connection (between the rail road tracks in Vail, pretty darn close to home) for our stab at the 1-Miler (a 4-miler was also an option, albeit a much loftier goal!). I should note that last night the kids were ALL ABOUT this race- running clothes were carefully chosen and laid out, a tantrum was thrown regarding running shoes, and there was a frantic search for ponytail holders that ended without incident. After much reading of stories and alarm-setting, it was bed time. Morning came and with it the realization that children are… well, shall we say “fickle”? The same clothes that were chosen were somehow missing or not perfect today, everyone claimed it was cold and I can’t count how many times I heard “I’m hungry” before we even pulled into the parking lot at the venue. I stuffed the youngest boys into the jogging stroller and herded everyone across the street to the registration table (a picture of geese comes to mind), and everyone was given a number and a t-shirt. We decorated the numbers (everyone was number “1”, so we added names) and hit the “historic” restrooms before watching the 4-Milers take off on their dusty trail – Beatriz and Nicole R. made an excellent showing for the Trigirls and before we knew it, the 1-Miler was upon us. My oldest two were still relatively gung-ho about the run, and we made plans for where to meet mommy in case someone got lost. But as were we making those plans my four year old (just turned four, still has some residual three-ness to get through) collapsed in a heap of tears and declared she would not run. Jog? Nononono. Walk? Uh uh. Cry? Sure, and loudly! The race started with me dragging a 4-year old girl in very dirty white sweatpants (“for running!”) down the road, while pushing the jogging stroller filled with the other two who were both alternately crying or hungry. Fun run indeed! Then, just as my mind was dissolving into a tiny pool of frustration, Peyton took off running and laughing hysterically. I ran to keep up with the little bipolar wonder and she happily collected her medal (a pretty cool clay tile) and a t-shirt. She ended up running the ½ mile, and the older two finished the mile (9:30!), both pleased with their accomplishments.
If you don’t have kids, this report is likely more dull than watching paint dry. But if you do, you know that the greatest joy is in watching someone you love find joy in something you love – seeing my kids run makes me happy by extension and reminds me that they won’t remember the nagging and the crying and the mixed up shoes- they’ll remember the running, and it’s worth every minute of getting there.
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