"Mummy, Will You Win?".....

Bike – 11miles/ 30.31mins

...So my four-year-old girl E asked when I explained a while ago that I was training for a triathlon. I sensed an opportunity to seize a character-building moment and as those don’t come along too often, I knew I couldn’t screw up. Especially not with this particular child....

This girl who will hit the ground and pitch the mother of all fits if a playground run with friends becomes a ‘race’ and she loses. This girl who will flamboyantly toss a board game, complete with pieces up in the air if someone else wins. Even if the competition is against herself (e.g, Me: – “See how quickly you can put your knickers/shoes/socks on,”) it will all too often end in tortured cries of “I can’t doooooooooo it.”

I’m from the passive aggressive school of competition. I am deeply competitive but hide that drive from people believing (wrongly) that it is somehow a flaw. Yet I’ve always admired those competitive types who just have it all out there and get huffy - even from losing at Scrabble. At least they’re honest about how they feel.

So of course, I want E to grow up with a fire in her belly over the things she’s passionate about. Right now, that sort of begins and ends with building Duplo towers and galloping in the paddling pool while wearing her too-small yellow polka dot bikini. Guessing that will change. Well, the Duplo towers part anyway....

I can’t help but notice that her four-year-old comrades seem to be slowly but steadily learning the ancient art of self-control. I’ve watched them grapple with problems, puzzles and sharing show-downs with growing maturity and skill while my E seems to have missed the Mr Miyagi master class and opts instead to meet challenges while sobbing and lying prostrate on the floor.

So how then does one convey to a child like mine that yes, winning feels great but that it’s okay not to come first (or indeed in the case of this triathlon, even 353^rd...)

Well, here’s how it went. When I told her that no, I wouldn’t win the race, she paused mid-spoonful of macaroni and asked, very seriously, “Will that make you cry?” At least I knew I had her full attention.

I told her that, no I wouldn’t cry and here’s why. Because I’m not training for the triathlon to win it, I’m training for and doing the race because it makes me happy.

Because swimming is a little like flying – like the birds do, not the aeroplanes - and it feels amazing to be underwater and to hear nothing but gurgly bubbles and quiet.

And because running actually allows my brain to empty itself of stinky mental trash – like the stuff we put in the bins that the racoons keep eating -  and all the time my feet are hitting Tarmac, I gain that sublimely rare thing – a clear head.

And finally because, though it scares me a little and I can’t do it very well, I like riding the bike because it’s good to try new stuff that’s hard. How else will we learn whether we like it or not if we don’t give it a try?

By this point she was back to her macaroni. I think I lost her at ‘sublimely; so don’t know whether that final, gilded life lesson got lodged with the Bank of Character Building. Most probably not.

But here’s a thing. At the weekend I ran a 5km road race, this fantastic one here -

http://www.christophersrun.com/raceinfo.htm

-          and for the first time ever she and her sister P were there to see me cross the finish line.

I was 100 or so metres before the finish and spotted her at the roadside wearing yellow wellies, a homemade pink paper crown and waving a stick while cheering, ‘Go mummy, go.’ She was quite the support team and clearly having a whale of a time, especially at the refreshments table after the race.

As it turned out, I did win – of sorts. I was the top female finisher in my 30-39 age group, clocking in at 21m57 (I believe there’s even a medal coming in the mail..!.) Not that I’ve told E this. “I didn’t see you come in first,” she’d probably say. So I’ll keep my victory to myself for now. Unless she tries to steal my medal that is, and then she’ll really know who the winner is....

Instead, I’d like to think, the more she sees me doing this stuff she’ll just learn these life lessons for herself.

That it’s good being around people of all shapes and sizes who like challenging themselves and who cheer and support each other – whether first, last or in between.

And finally, that where there’s a race, there’s more than likely a refreshments table.

Happiness Is...