My children make me proud everyday, there is always something that either one of them has done that makes me take a deep breath and well up inside. I am proud of all 3 of my boys. But yesterday was a very special day where the whole family was proud of the eldest boy. We watched him compete in the London Mini Marathon.
It was the second time that he has had this amazing experience. He first ran it last year when he was 11 years old, read about the post here . He is not the best runner but he tries really hard to achieve his best. This year was a struggle for him as he had lost his running mojo and as much as I get telling him to go out training he just kept saying ‘yeah, tomorrow’. It wasn’t until the last three weeks that he actually began to put the time in to his training and then he started to get a little worried. On Saturday he got bit by a gnat/horsefly and straight away he had a bad reaction to it. Unlucky for Jak, the bite was on his ankle. It wasn’t long before it was swollen, inflamed and blistered. I gave him piriton and rubbed cream on the bite but it was too late to stop it from swelling, the poison had already got into the blood stream. By Sunday morning the swelling had gone down a little but it was still blistered.
Sunday morning had arrived, Jak had to be at the coach for 6:45. He was going to be travelling with the rest of the boroughs team. As I waved him goodbye amongst his friends, a tear welled up in my eye. My baby wasn’t a baby anymore but instead a young lad. I am proud of him everyday for who he is and who he has turned out to be. Running in races, achieving goals in school and his acting are just those little extra moments that make me more proud of him (if it’s even possible).
The coach pulled away, the next time I will see him will be running down Birdcage Walk, on towards The Mall to the finish line.
Jak’s race was starting at 9:09. We left at 8 to catch the train into to London, dressed up in layers to keep us warm and armed with umbrellas incase it rained we was ready to get a spot along route.
We found (what we thought to be a perfect place) along Birdcage walk, propped against the railings we waited for the under 13’s to arrive. We watched and cheered on the other boys that was passing, recognising the odd boy from our boroughs team and shouting their name to cheer them on.
The first past us was the under 17 boys in black t-shirts, then it was the under 15 boys in blue t-shirts. Up ahead we spotted the first red t short to come along, it was the under 13 boys. We wasn’t expecting to see Jak within the first lot of boys, so we cheered the boys on and waited a couple of minutes. It is so hard to spot your child as they are all in the same colour t-shirts and about the same height. It wasn’t long before we spotted him. We shouted out his name, but he just kept on running. He looked good. He had a good stride.
I never got to see him pass over the finish line as we had a little trouble trying to cross the road. We had positioned ourselves on the wrong side of the road to the finishing line, and had to wait for a gap in the runners to get across. When we eventually crossed over, Jak was already waiting at the borough’s coach for us to pick him up. Once I had signed to say that I had collected him, we was ready to take him off for a well-earned breakfast.
One other thing that made so proud that day was how his little siblings cheered him on and the look on their little cherub faces as they saw him pass by. My two youngest boys look up to their older brother. As soon as they saw him after the race had finished, they ran up to him and gave him a huge hug.
Jak is a little upset with his time and was hoping that he would have done better, but to me he was the winner as all I saw out on that big wide road was him. Jak. My big boy. The boy that makes me proud every day.
Well Done Jak!