The Big Picture

Have you ever witnessed a scene, inhaled a scent, or heard a noise that triggers a memory of a time that has long since been forgotten?  There you are minding your own business and out of nowhere a memory comes flooding back as if you were right there, experiencing it again.  I had this experience just this week as I stood in our front yard and took in this scene. . .

I had returned home from my morning run and as Chad was leaving for his, Charlie and Chanelle asked if they could run, too.  Be still my little heart. . . they are actually asking to run.  Could it be?  Might they become runners, too?

Around the block they went as I took in their every step. I watched as Chad ran next to his little girl and I thought back to my own little legs running next to my dad.  I watched with pride, with hope, with excitement.

What was I so excited about?  Somehow, without my conscious awareness, while they pounded the sidewalk my mind began to wander.  I began dreaming about years down the road.  I saw myself in the stands of their track meets, I envisioned watching them pace themselves along the crisp leaves of a hilly cross country course.  I saw all five of us, together, traveling to road races during the summers and talking about the days workout at the dinner table.  In a matter of minutes I had our future laid out. . . we are going to be a running family.

That’s when my memory was triggered. 

It was track season during my senior year of high school.  It was an important time.  It was the end of the season and the time when colleges were watching and handing out scholarships.  The “big” meets were coming up–district and regional–the meets that would qualify the best runners to the state meet.  During my junior year I was part of a record-breaking relay team that placed at the State Meet.  We were hoping for a repeat.  Also, I hoped that after all the hard training I might make it to the State Meet in an event on my own.

I trained hard.  Harder than I ever had before and that’s when it happened. . . I developed a stress fracture in my femur. 

Initially, I was devastated.  However, my coach didn’t see a problem.  He promptly got me on the bike and had me doing modified workouts so I could stay in shape.  Next, he talked to me about shots (cortisone shots) that could allow me to run in the meets despite my fracture.

There was the answer I was looking for!

I remember the hope I felt at the prospect of being able to run.  I remember rushing home from practice and telling my parents that I had a plan and my coach had it all worked out.  I remember explaining that all we need to do is get to the doctor to get this miracle shot and all will be fine again.  I remember feeling that all was going to work out fine.  

You know what else I remember?  I remember my Dad’s response:  Absolutely not.

While I sobbed my Dad explained that taking such a shot only masks the pain.  He informed me that  running on my injured leg put me at risk of doing long term damage.  He explained that while he knew how important this was to me, he was thinking long term.  Oh my. . . I didn’t care about that.  I wanted what I wanted and I wanted it now.  I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.  I begged and pleaded. . . but to no avail.  I would not be running.  I’m not sure but I suspect my parents said something like, someday you will understand.

In a day when parents are banned from games for fighting with little league refs, and arrests are made when spectating parents bloody each other at children’s hockey games, and training begins at age 2 for a spot on a high school basket ball team, I look back at the decision my parents made and I see how wise they were.  Looking back I see clearly that they had what so many people lack today. . .it wasn’t about them.  They didn’t need a daughter with accolades to be okay. . . they were quite okay on their own ,thank-you-very-much. 

As I watched Charlie and Chanelle take long strides around our neighborhood, I somehow found myself in a la-la land that I created.  In ten short minutes I created a fictitious scenario in my mind that I was certain would bring happiness.  They would run, I would run, we would all run together. . . and we will be happy.  What I neglected to consider, however, is what will be best for them?  What do they want? 

Perhaps Charlie, Chanelle, and Meadow will never want to lace up a pair of running shoes.  Maybe they will take a path that is all their own. . . a path that I don’t fully understand.

That will be okay.  Actually, that will be great.

As I’ve thought back to my senior year track season I see now what my parents saw then.  They knew that who I was becoming was so much more important that what I was doing.  They understood that there is a big picture that I couldn’t see at the time.  They had the ability of long term thinking, when all I could see was the here and now. 

And I think that is the joy/challenge of parenting.  Knowing that they are “mine” for a time and striking that balance of letting them fly and harnessing them when needed.  Listening to their passions, yet knowing when and how to temper them.  And ultimately, being confident enough in myself to know when to step in and when to step back so that maybe one day they, too, will look back and in retrospect understand, that’s why you did that. . . 

You did it, because you loved me.