The end of a short era

Today Joey and I ran our last 5k together today.

It's his third race, and all three have been run in bad weather... cold, windy, rainy, snowy, or some combination of all the four. He woke up this morning and said, "I changed my mind. I'm going back to bed." It was 6am, thirty eight degrees, and a gale warning for the lakeshore, which means it was seriously windy, even inland. I told him that the money we paid for the race would go to kids in need, and it was the least we could do to show up and actually run the race. And there would be snacks at the end. And maybe a ribbon or medal. Agreeing, he got dressed, and we left for the race at 6:30 with a light drizzle.

For those of you new to this blog, I've written about running in the rain before. I hate it. I hate cold feet. I hate wet feet. For some reason, many of my races turn out rainy.... Turns out Joe feels pretty much the same way (Does anyone love running in the rain?). I try to be cheerful because I do like running, especially with others, particularly Joe. He has really changed me.

I used to be so competitive, concerned about a personal record (PR), running well, and feeling good; now, I really enjoy running with Joey, getting excited about what we'll see, who we'll talk to, and how we'll do. I don't give a crap about beating anybody anymore. I'm almost ready to say I don't care about my time, either, but I'm not quite there. I'm driven in other areas and more comfortable in this one. I'm surprised.

But anyway, he grumped a little on the way to the starting line but seemed to be ready to go and anxious for the start. Lots of people around us in the chute were encouraging him and impressed this was his third race, but he didn't say much. We listened to some group sing a capella the National Anthem, the mayor led a prayer over the loudspeaker (Where else do people pray before a race??), and the horn went off.

'Round about mile .5, someone had to use the bathroom. ! I knew the race officials had stocked a series of Port-a-Potty rows at the half point, but we weren't even to mile one. Geez. Just after mile one, I spotted four portable toilets being used at the National Guard stage, I think, but they were quite a way off the course, maybe 75 yards or so into a parking lot. There would be no waiting. We ran over there, got the business done, and ran back on course, losing three minutes, maybe a little more.

So I was hoping we'd run the whole race, but that didn't happen. Joey wanted to walk much more than I thought he needed to, but hey, I'm not seven years old. Heh. He kept sprinting and then walking. It's how he wanted to run the race, so I said that it was fine. It wore me out, though. By the last half mile, I had to tell him that we weren't walking anymore, so he began to sprint again. The little bugger had more left than I did and ended up beating me by a few seconds. I was so proud to see him charge ahead and give it all he had left.

During the first mile, though, he again told me he was NEVER signing up for another race. I kind of blew him off, because it's something I think frequently when I'm tired and with burning legs trying to make it to the finish. But I never mean it. He did. In the car on the way home, I told him all our races wouldn't have miserable weather; some are so beautiful and enjoyable. He said, "No way. SORRY, Mom."

I am so disappointed.

There are so few things that he wants to do with me that *I* choose. In fact, I can't think of anything. The things we do together are things he loves (kites, frisbee, spelling, math, etc.), and that's all right with me. But I had hoped he would share my hobby with me. I can't figure it out if it's the physical discomfort that comes from running, the boredom he might feel (but doesn't seem to express), or something else. When I asked, he just said, "Uh-uh. I'm not signing up to do this any more."

I wish I could talk him into it, but being the person I am, I know I couldn't feel good about pressuring him to run. And knowing him like I do, he would do it, too, if I asked enough and was convincing, just to make me happy. That would suck, though. I want HIM to want to run with me. But he doesn't.

My next race is in two weeks, and I'm running it alone. I am not prepared.