"There's too many people in front of us!" the kid complained, as we waited for the start of the Father's Day 5K. He got to work on the problem as soon as we were underway, dodging through the crowd and soon getting so far ahead I couldn't see him. He's in the white shirt behind #433, I am barely visible in a blue cap far in the back. This was an experiment, his only previous race being a kid's mile event. We did a practice "run" a week earlier, taking over an hour to cover three miles on a hot Sunday morning. I gave up the idea of a 5K after that festival of whining, but kids are moody and he got his mojo back so we decided to go for it. It was warm again on race day but the course was shaded except for a loop on the high school track for the start and finish. I managed to catch up enough to keep him in sight, but my expectation of casually jogging alongside providing water bottle sips and encouragment had changed into a hard slog. I figured he had made the standard mistake of starting out too fast. We did the first mile in 8:06. He was pacing a kid of similar age, the two of them passing adults now and then. I heard them talking, and figured one of them would blow up and they would both start walking. We did the second mile in 8:02. My personal best time was at a 7:07 pace in ideal November weather, and the heat of June was taking a lot out of me. We had talked about meeting at the finish if we got separated, but now I wanted to see which kid would finish first. We did the third mile in 7:56. He dropped the kid and kept going. I managed to catch up, wheezing and remembering all the races in which annoying kids had passed me. He skipped all the water stations and refused the bottle. We got back onto the track and he asked if we should finish together. I had nothing left for a kick, but managed to keep up. We crossed the line under 25 minutes, found a shady spot and sat down to watch the other runners come in.
Only two pre-teens beat us, and the younger of them was two years older than my partner. He would have won an under-10 division, but his age bracket was 1-14. Something about surface area and power-to-weight ratio means there are always some little brats who finish ahead of me in shorter races.
How awesome! I'm glad you had this experience and I appreciate you sharing it. Well done Papa and Mini-Oxygen!