And So the (Running) Story Goes...

The morning of the Glory Run our house was abuzz with anticipation. We were all up before dawn ready to go.

Mackenzie and I were the first to leave as our race started a good hour before the others. She was feeling good. We talked about her goal and with a group prayer and a gun shot we were off.

Like many racers, she took off much faster than she normally runs. I let her know this early, but she wasn’t having any of that slowing down stuff…especially in the sights of the big crowd that had gathered to cheer us on. I love this picture because it’s at the beginning when she was excited and feeling good. Somebody caught us right as we caught sight of Max.

Needless to say, we did the first mile in great time. The last 2.2 were an entirely different story. The cramps kicked in and she just couldn’t keep the pace. I knew at the halfway point that there was no way we were going to reach her goal of beating last year’s time.

We didn’t talk about that. She bravely kept moving and never complained. Upon seeing the finish line she even kicked it up to a run and finished strong.

The end result was a second place medal. Mackenzie, I am so proud of you for sticking it out. Five kilometers of hilly terrain is tough and you did it well. Great work girl!


Aiden’s one mile race was next and he was the surprise of the day. I only took him on a few training runs because he complained so much I decided it wasn’t worth it. I totally expected him to pitter out midrace.

When he ran past me in the beginning, he was running his heart out. He was in the front pack of runners and had already left Nelson in the dust. I really thought he might pass out when he hit the first hill.



When I saw him coming towards the finish line and looked up to see a race clock that still read 9 minutes I was shocked! When I asked Aiden how he managed to pull of that magnificent of a race, he informed me that he just didn't want to waste all his Glory Run energy on training. Great job buddy!

Dawson enjoyed his last go at the Tot Trot. He had a great start and finished 4th. I never got to see him after the gun went off, he was so fast. He is probably going to be the best runner of us all. We'll see what happens next year when the brothers race each other in their race. I am proud of you Dawson!

And Maximilian, well, I went against every grain of common sense I have and signed him up for the Tot Trot as well. I just knew the pain of being the only one not participating would be far more damaging than him coming in last. I also hoped that being in there among all those other runners might encourage him to get moving a little faster.

He took off with the pack and, like most two-year-olds, was not aware at all that everyone else had passed him. He moved those little legs as fast as I've ever seen and had a great time doing it. That is until he got about half way through his quarter mile jaunt and realized what a long distance this was. He looked up at me and made a brief whimper so I reached out and grabbed his hand.

That little support alone was all he needed to finish that race. The best part about being last is that the whole crowd focused their cheers on little Max. As he approached the line, the chant began (even over the loud speaker!), "Max! Max! Max!"

It was hard for me to do anything but absolutely beam at this little bundle of perseverance and joy holding my hand. What a wonderful place we live in where people don't see Max for what he can't do, but rather what he is accomplishing every single day. Max, you are amazing!
Never, ever…in a million years, did I picture myself running…in races…with my family. I have my brother Brian to thank for making this happen. I still to this day don’t know why I said yes to giving running a try, but I’m sure glad I did.