Cross-country and a 7:25 mile

Milo and Ella had their final cross-country meet this afternoon. This was a timed affair. Each kid had their own number and there were actual prizes at the end.

Both Milo and Ella did well. They paced themselves, made it through the course safely, and did an overall fine job. Again, Ella had to do it on her own -- no other first grade girls from Spruce Street. And they had the kids in lanes, so she couldn't even stand next to an acquaintance who goes to UCDS.

It's so fun to watch the enthusiasm of the kids. Especially the younger ones, who are truely doing it for the joy. They're not worried about the competition in any real sense. They probably want to win the race, but more for fun than for dominance.

But in the final stretch, we yelled to her "go fast, pass people!" She perked up a bit and zipped by a couple of girls ahead of her. It's fun to remind your kids that they don't have to be polite!

Milo too did a great job. He stayed with a comfortable pace for him and didn't worry about where he was in the standings. But at the end, even his competitiveness came through. He put on a remarkable kick in the final stretch and also passed a couple of kids at the end of his mile run. Nice work for the boy!

Then came the moment of truth (for me, anyway). As a fun thing, they held a race, on the one mile course for the coaches and parents. Inner conflict time for me. I grew up racing. I was a competitive swimmer for 9 years. Lots of practices and lots of meets. All three Hansen children were well-conditioned athletes for most of our childhoods.

For Milo and Ella, I could see that meets and races were foreign. Sure, they play baseball and T-ball, but it's not the same feeling as a cross country meet with over a thousands kids participating.

But the thing is that I don't run. I hate running. My sister was a national-class cross country runner in her day. I ran one season of track and that was it. I was a good enough miler at age 14 to win the dubious honor of going to the district championship. This meant that I'd have to run four MORE times around a track. I tied another fellow in the qualifying race.

At Husky Stadium, on a high-tech rubberized track, I stood at the start line with 12 other boys -- each more developed than the last, all more developed than I -- ready to run. I don't remember much about the race, other than that it was painful, gruelling, and that by putting on a burst of speed at the end I was able to pass the next-to-last runner with about 50 yards to go, only to run out of steam and have him blow past me.

12 kids qualify for the district race. I placed 13th. And it hurt. Physically. You don't get anything for free when you run. The air doesn't hold you up like water does. You can't push off the wall and glide for a few seconds. You just have to keep your legs churning.

I wanted to race.

I'm a walker, though. I haven't run a mile since that last race. Literally. I've walked, hiked, skated, scooted, and swam. But I haven't run. Not a whole mile anyway.

There I stood at the line. Sondra was doing it too. She was planning on walking and thus taking the rear. She said that I didn't have to stick with her. I had already switched mental gears. I was going to race. I was going to run. No walking for me. I looked at her with surprise, "No, of course not," I replied.

My goal was 10 minutes to complete the course. I can walk a mile in 15, so I figured that 10 would push me, but allow me to succeed, even if I had to walk part of the way.

Then we were off. And it all came back to me. I was a racer. I didn't worry about my competitors, for the most part. I decided to run steadily and smoothly and within my limits. I wouldn't put on any major kick at the end. I would just smoothly, carefully, calmly and happily put one foot in front of the other until I'd eaten up all 5280 feet of the course.

Down the hill, around a hairpin turn, down through a picnic area, another turn, another, duck under a low branch. Pass a couple of people, and let a few pass me. Pace myself with this person or that one. Around another turn then back up the hill, one foot in front of the other. Three or four times I wondered how far I'd gone and checked in with my body -- how are you doing. Going up the hill, I felt like I wanted to channel the spirit of Lance Armstrong. My legs felt strong -- all that walking must have paid off -- and I really wanted to zoom past a bunch of folks. I did succeed in getting Lance to back off and inhabit the body of someone with a stronger cardiovascular system. I did pass a few folks, though.

In sight of the finish line now. Unfortunately, there's a long run past it, then a U-turn into the finish chute. My mother and my kids are watching, cheering me on. I think they're surprised and impressed. I know that I am! Turning the corner into the chute. I could have passed a bunch of folks with a burst of speed, but no, I stayed within myself. Stride, stride, stride. And there was the finish line, and here I'd passed it. "Seven Twenty Five," called out the timer as I crossed.

Wow.

Funny thing is: I don't think that I would have made it just running by myself. All hail competition. Races are important. Not for how you finish -- I barely made it in the top 1/2 of the throng -- but for how you push your own limits.

And I'll tell you tomorrow how far I really did push my limits! Time for some ibuprofen.   

McDermott vs. Cassady

Came home yesterday afternoon to the following on the front step:

Yes, Jim "The Quisling" McDermott is my representative in the House. He's an old-style, unreconstructed liberal. I don't consider that a bad thing, especially when I think about the mischief that Bush et al. will fall into if they control both houses of Congress and the White House.

But his recent trip to Iraq burns me. I fully believe that he thinks that he's right. Too bad he's not. And the quotes from the other side of this flier...

...are clearly embarassing. But Carol -- bless her heart -- is clearly not an 'A' candidate. She's a sacrificial, token R in a safe D district. Her issues page does not impress me. I agree with one of her positions, but the rest is knee-jerk Republican politics. Yes, there's waste in government. If there were a line-item in the budget entitled "Waste, Fraud, and Abuse", I would be very much for cutting it.

Statements like this one in her section on healthcare...

There are plenty of experts – objective experts, not “hired guns”—who know what needs to be done. I will seek their wise counsel. I may not be the leading light. – I won’t offer a Fourteen-Point Plan. We have to be courageous! We can’t afford a government take-over of this industry.

...do not indicate much thought or preparation. She wants to find "objective experts" and "seek their wise counsel." Gimme a break!

She was a Kindergarten teacher for 20+ years. I've dealt with Kindergarten teachers before, and it seems to me that teachers of young children teach young children for a reason. I don't know if their brains are wired to connect well with five and six year olds, or if dealing with five and six years olds rewires their brains, but they're not usually the deepest thinkers on the block.

So, should I "Do the right thing" (what a slogan!) and vote for her as a protest? It wouldn't matter in this district.

This is a tough one!