Annie's First Race

Life has been a whirlwind lately, but a good, crisp whirlwind filled with football games, tailgate parties, parades, pumpkin-decorating and apple-eating, family photos, and happy afternoons outside marveling at the gorgeousness of it all.

This afternoon found us downtown for Annie's first race, the GR Kids Marathon. We (I) signed her up in early September and she's been running a mile (or so) about three times a week since then, sometimes at the track and sometimes just to the library and back or the grocery store and back or Starbuck's and back or . . . ANYWAY, the idea is that, by today, she's run 25 miles total. And then today she got to run the last 1.2 miles of her "marathon" on a race course downtown with about 1,000 other kids and their parents. She was so excited; for the last four or five days, she's been telling anyone and everyone, "I have a race on Saturday."

We picked up her packet, pinned on her bib number (ha! hilarious!), and lined up at the start to wait while Jason and Jemma went to find a good spot on the course from which to cheer. We stretched. We listened to a small, brave girl sing The Star-Spangled Banner surprisingly well. And then, we were off, running, holding hands, surrounded by other kids and parents under a beautiful blue October sky.

We crossed under the Start banner, still holding hands, and I was suddenly blinking back tears. There was just something so pure about watching her little four-year-old legs churn determinedly down that street that left me feeling incredibly lucky to be doing something I love with her - passing it on, so to speak. I do look forward to the days when she and Jemma are good at all sorts of things I've always sucked at (volleyball? spatial reasoning on standardized tests?); I think it will be a fun surprise to watch them enjoy things I've always hated. But for now, I get the exquisite pleasure of sharing my favorite things with them. And it makes me want to cry, a little.

I pulled it together. She ran the whole way. She got a medal and a T-shirt. After we crossed the finish line, I hugged her hard and she said, "Mom? When can I do another race?"