These type of kid's races are non-competitive and a lot of fun. There's a mixture of intense focus, lollygagging and fearful tears. My kids fell into the third category (Liz can identify), so we ran alongside them and it was an enjoyable family experience. Both boys were surprised that it went from leisure running to hard work. They embraced their sore legs and pressed on. Welcome to racing.
At the beginning of the race, the marshall announced to all the children that everyone would receive a medal at the end. As many of you know, this immediately made my skin crawl. My five year old jumped up and down and made his own announcement, "Yay! Everyone's a winner!"
I thought, "oh, great, three days of public school and everyone's a winner, everyone's happy because it's all about self-esteem, yada yada yada." I avoided the opportunity to rebuke his claim because it clearly wasn't a teachable moment and he's only five. Not everyone wins, especially in a race. We could assert that "no one here is a loser" and I could live with that, but I digress. More on that later.
And off they went.
As we approached the first turn, Micaiah (4 years old) was struck with panic as he shouted, "I have to go potty really, really, really badly!" No problem. We were in Glen Park and there are an extraordinary number of naturally placed boy's bathrooms. I know because I grew up in that park. We stopped near some trees and he quickly relieved himself and it was back at it.
After going down a short decline near the Swinging Bridge, they hit their first uphill climb. Along with below freezing cold weather, hills were Liz's achilles heel in her cross country career. She was right there with them and her coaching instincts kicked in and she encouraged them, "come on boys, this is the toughest part..."
We both laughed as she caught herself ready to push our kids. There's a tricky line between encouragement and pushing. She was far from approaching the line, however, we want to always be aware of the potential of our words and actions - good and bad. We've had extensive conversations about the path we'd like to take as parents while our kids become involved in activities. Encouraging and supportive is where we want to find ourselves. We've seen parents cross the line with the best of intentions and we want to identify the line and set boundaries far from it. This way, if we fall short of our standards, we don't cross that line. Making that climb was a good example of this and our kids made it uphill unscathed.
As we hit the straight away, both boys complained about their legs being sore. I'm sure they were as it was the longest they had ever run without stopping. They've seen plenty of races finish, so they knew running all the way through the line was par for the course. They both pushed through and crossed the line with about 100 spectators cheering them on. The running culture is genuinely excited for everyone who finishes. They're the most encouraging group of individuals in sports and it was nice to see our boys embrace it. That's one of the "hooks" in these road races.
Now, for the elephant in the room...everyone who participated in the kid's race received a medal. I've written extensively about my thoughts on the trophy generation, so I won't address it much. Carole Mottaz, my fifth grade teacher, had a little bag full of plastic medals and she unceremoniously handed one to each kid after finishing. It was no different than marathon finishers getting their medal. It's not about the result, it's a reward for enduring the entire process. It doesn't matter what place you came in. It's about the effort, which I'm beginning to embrace more and more each day.
If the youth sports culture valued effort, it would evaluate it and reward it. The root of evaluate is value. If you don't evaluate it, you don't value it no matter how much you say that you do. This is when parents get confused with their kids. They say they want them to do their best and be their best, however, when asking the process questions of how things went they're looking for an outcome answer.
"How did you do on that test?" actually means "what grade did you get?"
"How did the game go?" actually means "did you win or lose?"
Our kids learn to answer these questions with the outcome. How did you do? I won. How did the test go? I got a B+. This where the well-intended parents drift off course. Don't assume your kid understands the difference. Be intentional about how you say what you say so they hear what you want them to hear.
At four and five years old, the medals for finishing should be the same for the kid who finished first as for the kid who finished last because it's about the process of enjoying the race and finishing what was started. There's value to this for the long haul. Who cares if they won or lost? No one. Seriously, no one does, so it's important that we don't mistakingly elevate the importance and give value (or evaluate) to something that doesn't have value. This includes a little kid's fun run...and making the traveling team...and youth state...and youth nationals...
Value attitude and effort now and when the outcome does matter, your kids will give their heart and soul in the process of pursuing their outcome goals. That's what we want anyways, right? Leave it all on the court, field, mat, etc. and if the outcome is favorable, it's a bonus. You have to value the process first.
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