Saturday, October 9, 2010

Race to the Finish

Wednesday night Jake informed us that he was running the mile in gym the next day and was hoping to kill his time from last year - which happened to be about 10 minutes 30 seconds.  He said he was hoping to get around 8 minutes 30 seconds.

We tried to tell him that was a pretty lofty goal and we all gave him advice:

Maddie told him to not stop running - never walk.

I told him to pick a spot to look at and just run to it when he was getting tired, then pick a new spot and run to it until he reached the finish - but don't stop running.

Jake said he hoped he wouldn't walk.  He thought he was going to get tired but he was hoping not to walk.

Mike popped in with his advice:  "DO NOT WALK.  Just don't do it.  You ran three miles this summer; a mile isn't going to be any problem.  Push yourself.  In fact - if you run so hard that when it's all over you end up throwing up or passing out, I'll be so proud of you, I'll take you to Dairy Queen after dinner tomorrow."

Ummm...we try really hard not to disagree on parenting decisions in front of the kids, but even I looked at him like, "Is that really an incentive?"  Mike just shrugged.

Thursday after lunch we received a phone call, "Hello...this is the school nurse calling about Jacob..."


She proceeded to tell me how Jake had been to the office about his knee after running.  It was hurting him to stand on it and she had put ice on it, didn't expect any problems, but wanted me to know."  I kept looking at Mike, shaking my head, and answering, "Yes...uh-huh...thanks for calling."

He asked what was wrong when I hung up and I told him it was the school nurse and finished with, "Jake threw up after running the mile."

Mike's eyes got huge and he was a little speechless and I fessed up that it wasn't the truth and told him everything.  He followed it up with, "Well, did she happen to tell you what he got on the run?"  Unfortunately she hadn't and the thought had crossed my mind to ask, but I thought that might not come across as stellar parenting.

When Jake got home he ran downstairs to meet us and informed us he ran 9 minutes 22 seconds.  He killed his time from last year and was so excited.  He said he rounded the first lap and heard it had been three minutes and told himself, "I have GOT to MOVE it!" 

Maddie and I went to a volleyball game that night and when we got home Mike said he and Jake had celebrated with a fudgicle from the freezer as a compromise.

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