My kids are outside children. They would happily potter about outside all day, especially if they are out at the farm.
Running up and down the lane and bringing the fleet back and forth to the shed (there is an impressive collection of ride on machinery that has been gathered over the years). However if you were to say to either of them, fancy a walk round the lake. You get a whole range of moaning from my tummy is sore to I just don’t wanna.
When we do manage to get them up to the lake, Rónán (who just turned 6) was always the one who runs for like 50m and then stops for a wee rest, where as Aoife, who is a year younger, can happily plod along nice and steady.
So when I saw that there was a 2k Santa Run in Downpatrick, I was chancing my arm asking Rónán did he want to come along. I did have to promise him he could be a team with Oisin who is Caitrionas nephew.
In my head it was going to just be a wee light jog up and down Downpatrick, hand in hand with my son. How wrong was I.
He set off at speed with the other kids. I was pretty certain at this point by the corner he’d have stopped and gathered himself. As he passed the corner and didn’t stop I panicked as there was a road at the end of the industrial estate. So I sprinted to catch up.
Too little too late as he was powering up the road. I shouted to him “Mammy doesn’t do 8 minute miles, slow down” but he turned and looked back at me and smiled. I knew then that I just had to let him run on and hope he burnt out.
I met him on the turn as he was coming back down the street after 1 km. By this stage he was running with his hat in his hand and I was filled with guilt as he was running in a Christmas Jumper and was melted. But how was I know that he as going to actually run. He assured me he was going “at super speed” and he was so proud of himself.
Back down the 2nd half of the race I could see the ginger hair disappear into the industrial park. I notice that there was only 2 people in front of him and couldn’t believe it.
I ran with a child who was ready to give up at the end and kept her going across the line. Where she kindly thanked me for running with her. I was meant to run with my child but I’d take any child going at that point.
As I crossed the line, there was no sign of my ginger ninja. I asked the marshal did they see where the ginger elf went and they said he went into the hall.
In true Rónán fashion he had already helped himself to juice and a piece of cake, sitting on the floor with his medal round his neck, so happy with himself.
He was blotchy red with sweat and overheating but couldn’t wait to ask me was I proud of him and show off his bling to me.
Of course I was proud of him. I did initially want to strangle him for running off but then was all biz for him doing so well and coming in 3rd. Over the 2k he seemed to have worked up an appetite/seen cake and tart and was in heaven.
He kept telling me he was super fast and I was a slow coach. I informed him I just know how to pace myself and queried how many marathons has he ran. Yes I know he’s 6 and someday he’ll understand.
In the car on the way home he kept asking was I proud and would daddy be proud. He also wanted to show everyone his medal and even got a phone call from Auntie Shauna in Scotland to congratulate him.
So seemingly there is potential for a runner in the house however…
The next day I asked him if he wanted to go for a run around the lake. Yeah I got the same answer as always…”no mammy my tummy hurts”
So he hasn’t obviously got the bug but nice to know he has the same ability as his daddy to never run and then to magically pull out a stellar performance on the day. Like Father, like son.