It makes it all better
She is at the front door, in her plaid pleated skirt and sweater, waiting for me.
“Mommy! Did you win?”
“No, Mommy didn’t win. But I finished.”
And then she claps.
A standing ovation, from my little girl waiting for me at the front door.
This is what it’s about. It is.
This is what lessens the sting of a bad race day.
She doesn’t care about PRs. She doesn’t care about how I questioned my mental toughness in the last few miles, pondered if I should even bother running distance, wondered what’s wrong with me.
All Sage knows is her Mommy got up before the sun – as she does a few times every week – and ran in a race and got a very cute medal.
Even though she didn’t win.
When she is older she will remember THAT.
She will not care about my finish time.
She will not care that I cried when I crossed the finish line, not because I was happy but because I was frustrated and angry.
She will remember that Mommy ran.
That Mommy is strong.
No matter what that mommy thinks.