Run Sophie Run

I was swelling with pride today as six year old Sophie ran an 800 meter race. It was classic tortoise and the hare. Most of the kids in this age range take off like bats out of hell the moment the gun goes off. Sophie, ever the more cautious one starts off at a leisurely trot, a little too slow for her dad's liking and she finishes the first lap in nearly last place. However, on lap number two, she slowly started to pick up the pace and began passing all of the kids who were now either walking or running, and barely hanging on for dear life. I think she passed twenty or so kids from the 500 to 600 meter mark. (Once she did so, I started counting how many tikes were in the race, I know pathetic, had she stayed in last, I would not have counted a one). She wound up finishing 6th out of thirty plus runners and ran a respectable 5:10. (I don't tell her any of this, but as a coach, I can't help but look at the clock). Next week, she will race in the trophy mile hoping to run at 10 minutes or under. I will be there, the obnoxious dad screaming and cheering, that dad that I have rolled my eyes at and muttered at under my breath hundreds of times over the years. Now, I am him and I don't hate him quite as much.