ROAD RACE SERIES 2017 – IT’S A FAMILY AFFAIR

ROAD RACE SERIES 2017 – IT’S A FAMILY AFFAIR

The Sales Pitch

I’ve been a runner since I could walk.  From sprinting to distance running, I always wanted to be fast.  I’ve been somewhat successful in this passion which has also afforded me a healthy body, mental fortitude and sense of well-being.

My son, Christian, on the other hand, is from the video game generation.  He’s got great skills on a game console or computer keyboard.  But running?  Getting him on the road was going to be a daunting. 

I asked him if he wanted to join me and his mother (Grace) for the series.  Expectedly, he balked.  It wasn’t a “no”.  He made a face as if to say, “Uggh”, but I made a sales pitch to him. 

At 22 years old, he is still on my insurance.  Participating in an active healthy lifestyle would reduce my insurance payments for him.  Eventually when he gets his own insurance, healthy lifestyles will reduce his own payments. 

I also told him that many healthy ladies were at the events. That explanation got him moving towards signing up, but what really pushed him over the edge was “Parental Guilt”.  Basically, I told him how much suffering his mother would endure and asked if he could help by running with her.  He finally relented.

Training

I typically train 70-100 miles per week and never miss a day of running.  In contrast, Christian stopped running after high school.  His yearly running mileage is in the single digits.  Getting him in shape was going to be a challenge.

Grace sat with me and explained that he needed his own pace, and needed to train at her level -- not mine. She reminded me that by Christian agreeing to run, we had already achieved the most important step.

With a hands-off approach, our son set off at a slower pace with his mother and our Shitzu.  He was moving, sweating, and getting exercise.  He wasn’t going my speed, but he was going.

The Road Races: A Clash of Styles

My goal for the series was to defend my 2016 First Place for 45-49 age group.  That meant training much harder as competitors were upping their own games. 

I did very well in the first 5K.  However, in my cool-down back down the course to find Grace, I noticed Christian walking and jogging.  He was suffering in the 5K, but I wasn’t helping by being negative.  I’d give sighs and tell him to “not wimp out”. 

I ran the second 5K, not doing so well, and ran back on to the course only to see him again suffering at a walking pace. Still I wasn’t providing positive feedback.  I found myself being disappointed in his running ability.  

In the first 5 miler, I ran very well.  Going back down the course, once more I found Christian walking.  I met up with Grace farther back down the course and shared my displeasure.  My wise wife explained that if I made this more of a torture, he would never run again.  Then she suggested, “Why don’t you run with him rather than with me?”

Changing Tactics

I made it a point to devote each second race to him.  When the second 5 miler came, I went to the race in a different pair of shoes that didn’t have my running chip so I wouldn’t be tempted to race.  Every first race was going to be my time for competition. 

I lined up to the 5 miler with him.  I felt I could coach him through it, maybe make him run faster.  Estimating his ability through his age, I thought we could go 9-10min/mile.  We rolled through the first mile in a blistering 9:30.  However, he started huffing and we were going downhill. “Uh oh,” I thought, “he doesn’t have the lungs or stride for this.  I need to motivate him more.”  Every uphill as he was suffering, I’d give him a cringe, the same kind of cringe my father would give me when I didn’t know the difference between long-nose pliers and a plier wrench.  By the fourth mile, I was being more negative again by telling him to “suck it up”.  However, he didn’t complain. I could see he was really trying, but was frustrated. 

As the first 10K rolled around in September, I ran a fair race while he walked his race.  I wasn’t going to able to attend the second 10K because Grace and I planned to be in Nashville.  That opened the door for our son to quit and not run the second race.  However, as we were about to leave for Nashville the day prior to the 10k, Christian said that he was going to run it.  I was apprehensive that he’d actually wake up early and do it.  But, as I did my morning run around the Nashville city, I took a quick break to see the RRS results and check on rivals.  To my surprise, Christian’s name was listed as a finisher (towards the end), but that he actually did it on his own.  I was beaming with pride.

Taking initiative

When we got home, I told him how proud I was for him taking the initiative.  He started asking me a few questions on how to run and that he made a new goal to get the Road Warrior statue by completing all 10races.  I was heart-warmed.  But not knowing how to run properly took me aback.  I had an answer for that.  We went to my coach’s forms class.  It didn’t make Christian run faster, but it did help him run smoother.

As the October 10 miler came around, I was in a heavy battle for my age group title with a friend.  We were gutting it out to the finish, when I saw Christian strolling along at a jog.  He waved to me in his polite, “Hey Dad” smile as my face was in full grit and angst chasing down my rival.  In that moment, I started to laugh going sub-6 to the line.  Here I was taking this race so seriously while Christian (my Eagle Scout, nature loving son) was on the course enjoying the beauty of the park. 

The second 10 miler was as humid as the first.  I was still 10 seconds down from my rival, but I kept to my promise and ran with Christian.  If this took him an hour or three, I was going to shut up and enjoy the run with my son.  We took off together.  I ran, jogged and walked his pace.  I’d give him pieces of advice on his stride when he needed it.  We rolled to Maroon 5 on my smart phone, a common band we enjoy.  We talked about school and his graphics and art work -- how much he loved it and how well it was going. 

I have an accounting degree and an MBA, so my life is about calculation and numbers -- the end result.  I knew we had differences, but didn’t realize we shared the same determination when it came to our passions.  The “Beast” (nickname for RRS 10 miler), was reminding me of the beauty of my son.  After mile 4, we saw James Maglasang bolting by at 5min/pace.  I got a bit antsy. We took every hill and decline comfortably.  However, I had to take the mile 6 hill on my own to get personal jitters out.  I slowed and we took on the switchbacks together.  I asked if he had enough to finish hard for the final half-mile.  He brought us in at a full sprint.  I was so proud.

Finishing strong

My final competitive race for the RRS year came with the 1^st Half Marathon.  I had practiced the 13.1 course three times during the week leading up to the race.  I knew every bit of the course, which included every little lift and decline.  I devised a strategy to beat my rival who was only 4 seconds ahead.  Being light (130lbs), I had an advantage.  From the gun, I wanted my competitor to see me run past him, and I knew he’d chase.  Every little climb, I’d push the pace.  I didn’t really care if I burned out, I was going for it. 

By the 6.5 mile turnaround, I was fresh.  I set a new goal of catching a 4-pack.  Singleton Parkway can have terrible headwinds because there is no cover in many spots.  However, I had four moving trees ahead of me.  I sat on their heels to the mile 10 bridge.  I had energy reserves by not battling the wind thanks to the 4-pack.  When the incline of the bridge came, I surged my light frame over the bridge.  I kept hearing their footsteps but never looked back.  The last mile was going to be the toughest.  I patted Hotdog Man’s “Hit it Here Booster” sign and hammered Chapel Hill (I call it that because of the chapel across the street).  I was at maximum, ready to die and quit.  I kept thinking, “One More Step!” and get over the crest.  I went over and screamed to the finish, still hearing the footsteps.  But as I turned around, I was in shock there was no one there.  They were phantom steps made up in my mind to go faster.  No one would cross the line again until two minutes after my finish.  I had also put five minutes on my rival.  I finished 5^th overall in the race.  More importantly, I would take the #1 rank for my age group and would garner the 3^rd Place Master’s trophy, a step above the age group winner’s plate. 

My series wasn’t complete.  I headed back on to the course to find Christian.  Grace had already finished her six races to be a Series Finisher, and Christian needed the final two half marathons to earn the Road Warrior statue.  I found him two miles back, going his pace.  I didn’t push him; I just held a conversation with him.

 

Christian’s second half marathon was the same sort of leisurely run.  We’d go his pace and I’d cheer him as well as everyone else in the +15min pace group.  I’d also yelling support to friends running hard across the highway heading towards the finish. When Chapel Hill came, we hit the Hotdog Man’s sign, jogged up the hill and crossed the line together.  Christian would be a Road Warrior, a distinction even I didn’t earn. 

Learning from each other - We are all Winners

I wanted to teach Christian the joy of running and how it’s impacted me -- why it’s so important to have the drive to win.  However, because of our differences, he has reminded me of the joy of living.  The finish line doesn’t move.  It will be there waiting for you.  It just depends on when you want to get there.  I hope that as father and son, we never stop learning from one another.