Worth a Tri Part 2

If you missed part one, click here.

This brings me to the triathlon. After such a successful 5K, our son wanted to push himself to the next level. To him, that meant a triathlon.  He trained with his dad and was ready. I again, was filled with fear. I knew he would be safe physically, but I was so worried about how he would feel if he didn't perform the way he wanted to.

Race day, I put on my bravest face, and needed my husband to talk me out of helping in they ways I could. As he dove into the water for his swim, I worried. He had planned to start in the water, because jumping messes up his goggles. I wanted him to stay safe and stick to the plan. But then, he had his fastest swim to date. As he ran into the transition, I was coaching him to dry his feet, tie his shoes tight, drink water, and not forget his helmet. But what I wanted to do was do it all for him. As he ran out of transition with is bike, I cried. He was doing it. He was ready. He was safe.

The bike portion was a loop completed 3 times. The first part of the loop was a pretty long hill. His bike is heavy, has no gears, and is not made for racing. I was worried. I wanted to make all of these excuses, prepare him to be slower than the rest. I wanted to protect his emotions. Once he rounded the corner after his second loop. I cried. He was flying. He came down that hill with such confidence and strength. His bike was not in his way. I was.

After transitioning from the bike portion of the race, my son set off on his run. We moved so we could see him enter the final portion of the race and finish. He was running with such speed, that he was nearly to the finish. Just in time, we made it to see him complete his final loop and cross the finish line. He was breathing heavy, covered in sweat, thought he might throw up, and safe. I cried. I was so overwhelmed with the realization of what my son is actually capable of. That, and a whole lotta pride!

My son finished his first kid's triathlon strong. He placed 3rd in his age group and is ready to do IronKids next month. He knows that it will be a longer swim, longer ride, and have over 1,000 kids. He also knows that he is ready. So do I.

As a mom, I have learned that I try to prevent my son from feeling disappointment by reducing risk. But, if I want my son to feel confident, I need to allow him to do things that make him proud. If I make things too easy, or prevent him from stretching his abilities in order to make him me feel safe, he won't feel the sense of pride that comes with great accomplishments.

I'm not saying I'm "fixed", or that I won't go to great lengths to protect my son, but I will work to protect him at his fear level, rather than mine. Hey, it's worth a tri!

Worth a Tri

As parents, it's our job to protect our kids, right? We should keep them safe, right?

Over the years, I have taught my son to play it safe. Through my example, my fears, my desire to protect him from feeling disappointment, I have sheltered him. I didn't know I was doing it at the time. I thought I was being, you know, "a good mom". But what I was really doing, was teaching him not to reach his fullest potential. I was protecting him at my fear level, not his. He does things that look like he is stretching, but they are usually pretty easy for him. Others might disagree, and create a list of things he has done that were brave, but they didn't really feel brave to him. I know this well. It too, is my pattern. Yesterday, he was brave, and stretched, and safe!

Here is a little back story. My son's school has a one mile race to celebrate the top ten fastest runners in 3rd-5th grade. At the end of 3rd grade, my son was number 11. He missed the top by seconds, but didn't make the cut. He was also the only student in 3rd grade to get so close. He was really disappointed! I wanted to lesson his pain, make excuses about the length of his legs, his age, his experience....to make him feel better. But the truth is, it only teaches him to make excuses, and being so close taught him to work harder.

A couple of months later, my husband was running a 5K, and my son wanted to do the one mile fun run before the race. Several runners used this as a warm up, allowing  my son to lead the pack in just over 7 minutes. He was hot, and tired, and stinky. But, he was proud. He decided he wanted to run the 5K with his dad. I was terrified. He was tired, just ran a really fast mile, and had never run more than a mile. My husband would be running at his own pace, so my son would be on his own. My mind was racing.

What if he didn't pace himself correctly?

What if he got dehydrated?

What if he got a cramp?

What if he needed help?

I wanted to tell him, "no". I wanted to tell him to train more and prepare for 3 miles. I wanted to protect him at my fear level. I wanted to hold him back. But I didn't.

When my husband finished the race, 7th out of 127 runners, I wanted him to go back and get our son.

Go protect him.

Go keep him safe.

But, as I looked up, there was our son coming down the hill toward the finish. He crossed the finish line in 28:08, and was 17th overall. He was tired, and red faced, and so proud. Maybe I had underestimated him. Maybe I need to stop protecting him from my fears, and let him grow.

Part 2 to come...

Facing My Fears

It's been a while since I have blogged publicly. I write posts in my mind, make notes for "someday", but ultimately leave them to lay dormant and unseen. It's not that I don't want to share, there is something within me that feels compelled to do so. It's that sharing feels vulnerable and unsafe.

I work diligently to let people know much they matter. I work to love more, give more, and share the kind thoughts I have about people. It is my desire to inspire, support, and connect with people in real time. I don't want interactions and relationships to be in passing, but to be deliberate and real. I want to encourage your dreams and connect with your broken pieces. It is my passion and my gift. It is what makes my soul sing. It is who I am at my core. Therefore, exposing my thoughts, perspective, and stories feels unsafe.

I say, over and over, that everything you say, and everything you do matters. All of the good, and all of the bad...matters. The smallest gesture or greatest effort, impact our own lives and the lives of others in ways we may never fully comprehend.

 But, what if we could?

What if each of us could tap into that part of ourselves that truly understand the unique and powerful impact we have in our lives, our families, our community, and our world?

How would things change?

How would we be different?

I am facing my fears, I am putting my heart on the line. I am blogging...again. I am doing so in a way, to publicly claim my own worth, and to recognize that if I want others to know that they matter, I have to claim it for myself. So, here I am, standing in my own fears, publicly. I am claiming my unique and powerful gifts and sharing them with the world. If I want you to know how much you matter, I must also recognize it for myself.