This morning, after taking Brooks to his classroom, I walked back out onto the turf where tables had been set up beside a podium with a microphone. Parents stood around talking while the school prepared for the end-of-year assembly. The principal was going to thank some volunteers before turning things over to the parents who run the before-school Running Club so they could hand out awards to the students.
The kids eventually came out carrying chairs and blankets to sit on while the assembly got underway. I stood around talking with some of the other dads as the speeches dragged on a little longer than expected in the growing morning heat. Eventually though, they got to the Running Club awards.
They started with the 25 Mile ribbons for students who had passed that milestone during the school year. I moved closer, waiting for them to call my son Brooks’ name. When they finally did, his teacher motioned for him to walk up with the other students to collect his ribbon. I immediately started snapping pictures on my phone trying to catch a good one of him admiring his prize.
Brooks actually finished the year with 39 miles in Running Club, most of those laps walked while holding my hand around the track before school.
Earlier this week we had talked about the ribbon ceremony because, like me, he likes knowing ahead of time when things are going to happen. We talked about the laps he walked this year and the prizes he had earned along the way. Then he told me that next year he wants the 50 Mile ribbon. I told him we would have to walk more laps next year and he was completely on board.
The thing is, Brooks didn’t make it to 39 miles because he went out there every morning and ran harder than everyone else. He didn’t get there because he had one huge day where he walked twenty miles all at once.
He got there because he showed up.
Every morning when it was time to leave for school, he was ready to go. Every morning when we got there, he was ready to walk laps around the track. The parents who scan the Running Club cards make him nervous and he barely talks to them, but he still shows up every day anyway.
He was consistent all year long, and eventually that consistency compounded into 39 miles.
Standing there watching him this morning made me think about how much I could accomplish if I simply showed up consistently day after day.
Brooks walked 39 miles without overthinking it while I struggle to show up for myself over the smallest inconveniences. I sabotage myself when things aren’t going perfectly. I treat small setbacks like total failures. Meanwhile, my six-year-old son quietly keeps showing up over and over again without worrying about whether every day is perfect.
Brooks didn’t walk 39 miles in one day. It took time.
And honestly, that’s another lesson I probably needed to learn from him.
Getting where I want to go is going to take time too. But if I never give myself the time, or the grace to fail and get back up again, then I’m just going to stay stuck exactly where I am.
Right now, Brooks is 39 miles ahead of me.
And next year he’s aiming for 50.
The Young Napoleon Project 