Time with my son has become a rarity. He’s hardly home, and his priorities, as they should, have switched from family time to his life outside of this house. When the opportunity for Nat to have a weekend sleepover with her bestie, on the same weekend Noah wasn’t overbooked, AND the Finn McCool Obstacle race was running, I could not pass up the true gift of an opportunity.
When we’ve done these types of races before, Noah and I generally keep pace with each other. It was made crystal clear to me, on the first obstacle, that today was going to be very different. The race took place at Kissing Bridge Ski Resort, The first obstacle was a mega slip and slide down the central ski slope. Just as I approached it, Noah purposely clipped my ankle, taking me out, then dove over me. “See ya’ Mom” was all I heard as he took off down the mountain. This was going to be HIS race. Go boy, go!
That’s the last I saw of Noah until I tumbled through the mud pit and saw his smiling face. “Mom, I took first place in the wave. I’ve NEVER taken first place in a race before!” He told me people were coming up to him and patting him on the back and praising him. The look of pride was contagious.
Just last year, his leg was broken. He went from moving 100 mph to a dead stop. Two surgeries and six months on crutches later, he was still looking to regain strength. I signed him up for a marathon. He was leery.
If you know Noah, you know he took on the training with vigor. He has completed four half marathons, but it’s on his bucket list to hit the full 26.2. He does every training run I recommend, and I sometimes have to tell him to stand back and to recover.
Although he climbed walls, ropes, navigated mud, balanced on lily pads, traversed monkey bars (I friggin’ hated those) and ascended TWO ski slopes, when I asked him what he was most proud of, he said “his stamina”. “Mom,” he continued, “the marathon...I got this”.
Yes, Noah. I know you do. Make room on that trophy shelf.