Pride in its purest form (by Ben)

There are many special moments as a parent when you simply must marvel at your children. The first set are ubiquitous: joy that the baby came out alive, amazement at the size of the little toes, astonishment at how cute they are even when spitting up, or learning to walk, or doing all the other things that all little kids do.

The second set of moments we marvel at are different. These are the nuances we marvel at in our childrens behavior that distinguishes them from the rest: The cute way they scrunch their faces when they are mad; the hilarious need to plop face-down on the floor for no reason; things they cling to, or reject, hinting at their hidden personalities.

Next come the moments that truly create a deep sense of wonder and pride in your children as they begin to define themselves. They step outside the median life, and achieve something that truly sets them apart.

This week, 5-year-old James became a triathlete.

It's important for the reader to know that I am biased. I have long dreamed that my children would all participate in what I believe to be the purest of sports: Running, Swimming, Cycling. Sure, team sports are great, but the team dynamic over-emphasizes the competition, and dilutes the individual achievement. The pure sports are all about the growth and determination to compete against yourself and strive for personal improvement. Triathlon is just that.

Nicki heard about a family triathlon being held right in our little city of Sherwood at the local YMCA, and signed James and me up. It composed of a 50 yard swim, a 2 mile bike ride, and a half-mile run. James has always been a strong runner. Earlier this year, on the half-mile walk home from a t-ball game, I decided to see how far he could run without stopping. He made it the whole way home, complaining that I wasn't letting him run fast enough, and still had plenty of gas left when we got home. But swimming and biking are weak for him. Last summer we did quite a bit of swimming and he could get around timidly with his mask and snorkel on. But this year, we only went to the pool a few times, and he's regressed a little. We went to the pool a few
more times in preparation for the race, but he's still not a swimmer.

The best of all was that we insisted he learn to ride his little bike without training wheels. He always leaned heavily on the training wheels, but seemed like he had what it took to ride without them. A few weeks before the race, we simply took his training wheels off and told him to ride. It turned out to be a rather simple and painless process. I had to hold him a few times to get his comfort level up, but within a few minutes he was riding all on his own and even making some simple turns. It took a few more days to master starting and stopping, but he learned those quickly, and we even had him ride a quarter mile to the store on errands with the rest of us riding alongside.


James was very excited on race day. We got everything set up on time, and even had some extra time to walk through the transition area to get a better feel for the race. He talked to some other kids, and was very relaxed. There were probably another 70-80 kids of all ages participating. Most of the kids ranged from 5 to 15, with the majority of the kids in the 7-10 range. There was even a 2 year old, but his parents
were pulling him in a bike trailer.

The swim went well. James decided to skip the snorkel and use a kick board. I swam backwards in front of him as he kicked his way across the pool. He made it most of the way across and back by himself with a few tugs from me to keep him on track. The water was warm and we had a blast. We ran out fast to T1 as James screamed about being very cold, and I got him dried off and changed into dry shorts. He hopped onto his bike, and I jogged behind him.




He biked almost entirely by himself with me only guiding or pushing him through steep sections or when there were lots of bikes on the path. He tends to weave a little bit on the bike, and I wanted to keep him safe. But he was very brave and didn't stop at all. At one point, I asked him to pull over so we could have a quick drink and take a break, and he wouldn't, saying that he didn't want to let the other kids catch up. This seemed a far cry from the child who just the night before couldn't go 200 yards on his bike without saying he was thirsty. He was overjoyed to see his mom, siblings and Papa Brady on the course and hear them cheer him on as he biked past. He got a little tired at the end but managed to finish with just a little bit of pushing (I ran with my hand on his back at times to give him that extra needed momentum)




We went out on the run, and he started off pretty pooped. We hadn't practiced the transition at all, and if you haven't ever run right after biking, it is a really weird and tough thing to do. He walked a bit to get his legs under him, until another young boy passed him. Up to that point, I'd told James that as long as another 5-year-old didn't pass him, he could know that he was the fastest boy his age. So when the other boy ran past him, James sped up and sprinted until he passed the boy (who was probably about 10). We mixed a bit of walking and running after that until we came to the finish line. He sprinted his way across, and I was overjoyed. He'd done amazingly well, and he was still bounding with energy. He was happy to have passed several people, and to be the fastest 5 year old.





I grabbed my camera and staged a few more pictures of us crossing the finish line. James was so pumped up from the whole experience, that each time we ran back across the finish line for pictures, he was serpentine weaving back and forth showing off for the camera. He earned his very own medal for participating, and sure managed to make me the proudest father I've been so far.