Mental Preparation
“I didn’t think I was prepared for Girls on the Run,” she said.
I looked down at the top of her head bobbing along beside me. Between us bobbed her friend, who I thought at first was her sister. Same round face, round glasses, mouse-colored hair. They waited for each other to finish the activity after each lap so that they could run together. On my other side jogged a girl with a bouncing ponytail. All three, first-timers. Third-graders, maybe fourth.
We were half way through our 40-minute workout, the longest the girls had run. Pace yourself, the coaches said. Listen to your body, do what’s right for you. The not-quite-autumn Texas sun beat down mercilessly on the shadeless field, where cones marked out our homemade track.
“This is a great place to run,” I said earlier as we ran through a patch of dirt and stones, kicking dust up past our shins. The girls looked at me quizzically, looked down at the dirt. “It’s soft,” I explained, trying to keep with the spirit of the lesson: an attitude of gratitude. “Better for your joints than pavement.”
Better for slowing down, I thought. I have learned the skill of slow running, learned to pace myself with the girls. It’s not as simple as it might seem, slowing down. My trick is to bounce rather than run, the first verse of “The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers” playing an endless loop in my head.
What did you think you needed to prepare? I meant to ask the girl.
“My brother didn’t think I could do it,” she said before I could ask. Her friend nodded vigorously. The girl with the ponytail leaned out to look around me sympathetically.
What does he think now? I started to ask, but thought better of it.
“What do you think?” I asked instead.
She grinned. “I ask him to run with me now,” she said, picking up her pace. “But he won’t.”
I nodded. She stooped at the final turn to pick up her water.
“That’s ok,” she said as she took a long drink. “I can do this. And I’ll do it again next time.”
More Than Running... 
Leave a Reply