Bitter Win
My husband was pissed, yesterday when he crossed the finish line of a local Jingle Bell Run. I saw him approaching the chute and doubled back with Sophia in the stroller to cheer him on. "Go Mark!" I said. He shot a death-stare at me as he stepped over the duck tape line. And to be honest I totally deserved the death-stare. We were supposed to run this race as a family. That was the original plan.
We got up early Saturday, drove an hour away to meet my brother, mom and sister
. The plan: I push Sophia in the BOB, Mark runs with me and we all finish together and start our Saturday out with a fun family event. The fact that Mark even decided to run was a miracle in and of itself. You see, Mark doesn't run. The last time he ran a 5K with me was almost 10 years ago. When he came down yesterday morning in running clothing I was shocked, actually. I thought he'd bow out and want to watch instead. When I saw him in shorts and a long-sleeve T, I got excited. This is one of my running fantasies fulfilled! I've always seen families running 5K's together; they are trott along Mom and Dad and the baby in the BOB and it looks so wonderful. When I saw Mark, I thought: finally!
But when the air horn went off, starting the race I basically shattered my own fantasy. I weaved the BOB past the walkers and broke out in to a run with Mark next to me. Just before mile one another BOB pusher passed me and once she did the competitive animal inside growled and I started the hunt. I passed her on the hill at 1.5 miles, and never looked back. Which meant that I also didn't see Mark as he drifted off behind me. I sped up through mile two and three, worrying that the other BOB girl was on my tail. When we rounded the corner towards the finish line I shot a look backward, looking for another stroller: I didn't see one. I wasn't even thinking of Mark or where he was, I was blinded by competition. I had to beat that other girl. I surged towards the finish line, Sophia crossing first, me pushing behind.
And when Mark shot that death-stare at me I realized: my competitive spirit is not an impulse, I can control it and I chose not to. I chose to go for the win, I let my pride and ego get in the way of doing something fun as a family. So my time was great for pushing a stroller, but when you win at the price or a relationship, it's really not very enjoyable.
So if there's one thing I learned on Saturday, it's that the competitive drive that pushes me to finish lines in Marathons has a place: in Marathons, not in fun, family 5Ks.
-Sarah
