My youngest is signed up for her very first race next month. It's a half mile, which is a very long way for a six-year-old, and she gets a t-shirt. She assures me her shoes are very fast. Since my knees are still not a hundred percent, I'll do my best to keep up. My son is training for a 5K set for that same morning. This is his third race and he's getting up at 5 a.m. to run with me. I love that. I am so impressed with his willingness and dedication and I can tell a huge difference in his endurance since this spring.
I never ran when I was a kid. Maybe it was because Forrest hadn't made it popular yet, but I suspect it was because my parents didn't run. I had no example, no mentor, no encourager. I took it up in my forties because my husband ran. (Yes, my college roommate did too, but I was something less than interested then.)
As we run our race for Christ, it's important to realize that we have tremendous influence when it comes to leading others to get in the race or simply to keep trying. I don't say this to put extra pressure on you – who needs that- but rather to encourage and assure you. Whether it's with your kids, grandkids, or other family or friends, you CAN and DO make a difference.
Keep running!

I had a great plan for the running season. Last year I wanted to hit 10K and I didn't make it. This year I made that distance in April. April. So I set my sights on a half marathon by fall. I found a series of races – A 10K in August, a 15K in September and a half-marathon in October. Perfect.
Not too long ago, my daughter was flirting with the idea of running some challenging fall races. She likes the idea of running, but the doing… not so much. As she was preparing to head out one afternoon, I overheard her brother coaching her. "It will probably hurt, maybe the whole time, but you have to keep going. That's how you get stronger."
Memorial Day, I ran my fourth ever race. Here's what I learned – I'm terrible at races. I took a month of great training runs, of shaving seconds off my time and translated that into my worst 5K time yet. It's tempting to blame the heat. (It was about 20-25 degrees warmer than training temps.) Or the hill. (The half mile between 1.5 and 2. Ugh.) Or the crowded race field. (I'm used to running alone.)
Last Monday, I ran farther than I had ever run before – nearly 7 miles. I left the house a little after 5 and got home around 6:15. I ran the whole time. 72 minutes. (Yeah, I'm pretty slow.) Not only that, but it was my third straight "longest ever." I'm not doing anything different than what I did last summer when I couldn't break 5.5 miles. Well, maybe there's one thing different – I'm learning the mental side to running. I'm learning my body can do more than I realized if I don't give in to its whining. I'm also learning to listen to my internal "coach" and not the "critic." Who knows, I may be running a half marathon before the season is out.
I run a little, so I was mildly interested in the results for 