The Fun Run that wasn't

My dear Anabelle, who is capable of anything in the world and who has capacity beyond measure, does NOT like to try new things. She has freak-outs if I suggest she play a sport because anything she percieves as "hard" gives her panick attacks. If you would have told me a few years back that she would have this problem I never would have believed it. I myself feel that I have lived most of my life this way, for lack of confidence and self esteem. So I am bound and determined to help her get over it so she doesn't have a list of regrets. In this cause, I signed her up for a military kid fun run, knowing she would hate it. And hate it she did. She complained about it endlessly for the week prior to it. The day before it got annoying. The morning of it was downright maddening. Minutes before it was to begin, she was crying and throwing a fit. She refused to meet any of the other kids. She insisted she wouldn't know where to go. Seconds before I saw some kids that I recognized from our street and asked them if she could run along side them. They happily agreed. As you can see from the picture she was very mad at me. And then when the gun went off a little smile crept across her face as she started to run. Unbeknownst to her, I started to follow her after she was aways off, just to make sure that she turned around at the right spot. Once she figured this out she wasn't happy about it. It was frustrating to watch because she is fast and she could have lit up every other kid around her. But she kept stopping, for no reason at all. Each time this happened I would tell her to run. Finally she got close to the finish line and I thought this was going to be a good thing after all. And then, 10 feet short of the finish line, she stopped. And refused to cross it. Absolutely refused. She was making such a scene that those cheering at the ribbon came over and offered to stay with the other girls so I could run across it with her. She wouldn't. And when she couldn't be reasoned with, I hit my wall of frustration and told her to go to the car. We walked to the car, across parking lots and roads, with her crying and carrying on and not being able to explain to me what was going on. I don't recall our exact conversation but I conveyed to her that she had quit and nothing is worse than quitting. This made her more upset and I asked her if she wanted to go back and finish. By this time we had reached the van and I had already unloaded the stroller. She said that she did so we walked back, and she went back to the place where she had stopped. She ran the few feet to the finish line and I took her picture. And I have to say, exhausting as it was for me, I felt just as proud of her in that moment as I would have if she'd won the race I think. A lesson learned. Quitting is bad. Finishing what you start is good. It's fun to try new things. Don't get a key and open a door that I have purposefully locked (can a girl shave her legs alone JUST ONCE A WEEK?) Oh wait, we're still working on that one. I can't expect too many teaching lessons from a one mile fun run. She wore her t-shirt all day and told everyone how great the race was (as I rolled my eyes behind her). Will I be signing her up for another race? Um, maybe when Braden gets home so we can tag-team those emotions. Whew.