Patrick has been running for more than 40 years. He started when he was 9, and it's been part of his life ever since.
So it probably won't surprise you that running found its way into our kids' lives too. What might surprise you is how low-key it's been. Nobody has been dragged out the door. Nobody has been timed. The only goal has ever been to finish.
This post comes out of a podcast episode about one particular Saturday, when Patrick took all four of our kids to a 5K. They were teenagers by then, roughly 12 to 15, so it wasn't like taking toddlers out. He just wanted them up and doing something. It was semi mandatory, if we're being honest, and the only real complaint was the 8 a.m. start on a cool morning.
It Started in the Stroller
Two of our four kids have been doing races for years, and it started before they could walk.
Patrick ran dozens of races pushing one of them in the jogging stroller. Morning races, night races, it didn't matter. The kids rode along, watched the crowds, and got used to the idea that crossing a finish line was just something our family did.
So when it was their turn to run, it wasn't a big leap. Our son's first 5K was when he was about 6 (he's 18 now). It took him about an hour, and you can see the clock in the photo. He wasn't fast. He didn't care. Look at that smile. He finished, and that's the whole point.
"Just Finish" Really Means Just Finish
We want to be clear about what we're asking for, because it's not much.
We're not talking about breaking 30 minutes. We're not talking about training plans or race strategy. Patrick said it best on the podcast:
I don't expect them to like it. And I don't expect them to try to push themselves during it.
What we do hope is that by the time our kids are adults, walking or jogging three miles feels like no big deal. Run it, walk it, mix it up. Just get there.
And if one of them was truly against it? We'd figure that out. That hasn't happened, but we're not about to force anybody to love something.
Speed Came Later, on Their Own
Here's the fun part. Our kids never ran hard or tried to run fast when they were little. That came later, in high school, when they got interested on their own.
They were already in pretty good shape from other sports, so when they decided to actually push, they were naturally pretty good at it. We didn't have to make that happen. We just kept the door open.
Other sports have come and gone, and that's fine too. One of our kids played club soccer for a while, then decided it wasn't their thing. We let it go. Tamekia does have one rule we both stand behind: if you sign up for a season, you finish the season. Your team is counting on you. After that, you're free to try something new.
About Those Trophies
Here's where we get a little old school. A trophy just for showing up? That's a hard no from both of us.
Medals are a little different. Patrick likes to point out that medals for 5Ks are pretty new. For most of his running life, you didn't get a medal for a 5K. Medals were for half marathons and marathons, the races where you really earned it. Somewhere in the last 10 to 15 years, that changed, and now just about every race hands one out.
Honestly, we're in the middle on this one. We're not against celebrating kids, and we cheer loud. A medal can be a big deal for some people, and if one helps get you to sign up for another race, we think that's a good thing. The goal is to get people doing it and keep doing it so they stay healthy. We just want the good feeling to come from crossing the line, not only from what someone hands you afterward. The finish is still the prize.
If You Want to Try This With Your Kids
- Bring them along early. A jogging stroller, a family fun run, or just cheering at the finish line. Let them see it's normal.
- Keep the goal tiny. Finish. That's it. Walking counts.
- Let speed be their idea. If they want to get faster someday, they'll tell you.
- Celebrate the finish, specifically. "You kept going the whole way" means as much as any medal.
We don't know which of our kids will still be running at 50. Maybe none of them, and that's okay. But if three miles never scares them, we'll call that a win, no trophy needed.