One race down...a billion more to go.

Dad putting his UESCA coaching to good use.

Hello world. 

My name is Samuel Stewart or Sammy for short, and I am so happy to have been asked by my dad to write the very first article for his blog.  Given my age and that I haven’t even started daycare yet, you will excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes I might have made. 😉

So, what life experiences does a toddler even have to write about.  Well, it just so happens that I achieved a “life long” goal today which was to run in my first race before the age of two. Yes, on the day I turned twenty months old, I started my running journey. One race down…one billion more to go (As a toddler I have no idea what a billion is….it sounds pretty cool though).

So which race did I decide to make my “first”.  Well, much like dad and his sometimes brave, but mostly stubborn, approach of “go big or go home”, I chose to run in the 500 metre kids race during the Fredericton Fall Classic race weekend.  This of course is the same race weekend where last year dad forgot his running shoes during the half marathon and still decided to run in his Sketchers. At least I didn’t make that same mistake and wore my Spiderman runners today. I sure looked cool.  What made the race really special is that while it was my very first race, it also became Dad’s A race for the year and the first one since his running injury. I don’t know if it’s possible for a child as young as me to be proud of his papa, but…well, I was very proud.  Way to go, Dad.

Of course, training leading up to the big event was tiring.  Dad laid out the perfect training plan for me including speed intervals on the treadmill, incline pyramids, weekly long runs (300 metres plus) and of course strength training to compliment everything.  He also made sure I got lots of sleep, and I in-turn made sure that he didn’t. For my nutrition plan it was all apple puffs, strawberry yogurt bites and lots and lots of whole milk. Sounds like some new flavor ideas for running gels, I think.  Who knows, maybe someone from Gu or Naak is reading this Blog, and I might get my very own product line.  Dad always says, “dream big, son”. So, with the training complete after a short 2-day taper, where I was limited to running around the house, it was time for my first race.  Whereas dad might pack an extra set of shoes or socks for his races, for my races, it’s all about packing some extra diapers, and wipes, you can’t forget the baby wipes.

Getting in some pre-race snacks.

I arrived at the race and saw my friends Sophie and Henry, two experienced runners who passed on a few pieces of advice learned over their many years, well one more year of training, than I have.  I know that all three of us will be competing in races for years to come and making our parents proud as we are proud of them.

Once registration was done, it was time to put on my bib, # 371. Remember that number everyone, one day it’s going to become a trivia question. Which bib number did 3 x Olympic champion Samuel Stewart wear during his first race?  I think the hardest thing for dad all day was putting on my bib.  Thank God for safety pins as I was feeling a little squirmy.  Race day jitters, maybe. Once the bib was on it was time for a quick warm up and stretch (well more like sitting on the grass and watching lots of people moving their bodies in strange and uncomfortable positions…I preferred to just sit and eat my race snacks).

Getting in some deep squats.

With all the pre-race activities done, it was now time to move up to the start line.  Dad made sure to keep us near the back so that all the senior runners (4-6 year olds) could occupy the positions at the front. It makes sense given they were very experienced runners compared to me.  With my yellow Choose Strong hat turned around and my good luck hairbrush in my left hand (if you’ve ever seen my hair, you will understand why it’s a critical piece of running gear for me) I was off.  With both of my friends and their parents running beside me, and dad leading the way, we stormed out of the gate running at speeds never before seemed possible by two and three year olds.  Yea, we were still at the back but hey, we were having fun. 

Dressed for success...hairbrush included.

Realizing I had to pace myself and conserve energy for the end, at about the 200 meter mark I had dad pick me up for a bit.  This wasn’t because I didn’t have the energy to run the whole way. It’s just that I knew dad had to work on improving his upper body strength so I thought this would help.  Don’t worry, dad put me down just before the halfway turnaround point and to make up for his carrying, I kept running past the halfway pylon to get the lost distance in.  That was until dad caught me and made me turn around.  I swear I could have run for 500 metres more if he had let me. 

Now we were on our way back. I made one last turn and saw the finish line, about 150 metres away.  I now had my second wind, and I was off.  Even dad couldn’t keep up with me as I was going so fast.  All of dad’s friends were cheering me on.  I felt like the great Usain Bolt, the Flash and Speedy Gonzalez rolled up all into one. Nothing could stop me…until I hit the dreaded wall.  No, it wasn’t a case of my glycogen stores being depleted.  (huh…glycogen stores…I have no idea what that is. Who’s putting words in my head?) Instead it was my nerves as there were so many people at the end, I got a little scared. As dad always does, he picked me up, reassured me everything was ok and set me back down after carrying me 50 metres more. 

The final push to the finish.

As I wasn’t about to be carried across the finish line, I babbled, “Dad, put me back down. I’m going to do this. Let’s Goooo”.  So in the face of adversity, I gave it one last push and crossed the finish line thus joining a long list of toddlers believing that no matter how young you might be, you can still achieve great things. As my dad always says, you run better when you are with friends who push and cheer you on. I saw that today as my friends cheered me on and I hope to return the favor to them if given the chance. 

Dad training his upper body strength.

So, are their any words of advice or lessons I would like to pass on after completing my first race.  Well, in the mold of one of my favourite television shows, Sesame Street, the first lesson is more so based on a number. Let’s call it "the number of the day", and for today it is the number four. Why is four so important. Well, when it comes to races for example if you are number four, you miss out on making the podium. You miss out on getting that prize medal of gold, silver or bronze. Instead, you are just 4th place.  Today I was probably around 30th place but guess what? Dad was still proud of me. Dad’s friends were still proud of me, but most of all, I was proud of myself. Even if I never finished the race, I still would have been proud, because I started the race. I showed up and that is what matters. This lesson isn’t just for us competitors, but it is more so for our parents. We are proud of you when you work to achieve your goals, to show up at the start line and we ask that you be the same way to us. Four really is a great number. One might say, it's Fantastic.

Lesson two. Enjoy the experience. Many kids my age don’t have the opportunity to take part in events like these, so appreciate them. They are put on by hard working volunteers, who should be thanked. They bring together people of all walks of life and backgrounds. Cheer each other on for we are all striving to achieve the same thing. To see just what our limits might be because for most of us, it is far more than we could ever imagine. We are all great. We just need the support and an opportunity to prove it.

Finally the biggest lesson...always have an extra diaper on hand.  You just never know when it might come in handy. 

Ps. If you enjoyed this post, please let my dad know. Maybe he will have me write more in the future. 

Life is an ultra…even at my age.

Tired runner and proud Dad.