Running is one of the cementing elements of our marriage. Together we have traversed tens of thousands of kilometers together – all over the world. Before children, during the working week we would rise early, Mike giving me a head-start with the aim of trying to catch me during our sessions of fartlek, hills or intervals. On the easy days, flexing with the seasons’ changing light of dawn, we would run together - talking, hoping, dreaming and reflecting on our lives.
On our arrival in Canada when the children were 1 and 3 years old, the Vancouver Sun Run quickly became one of the annual features on the Moore outdoors and running calendar with Mike joining the 40 000 people running the 10km. The first couple of years in Vancouver, I was quite happy just in accompaniment. I enjoyed infusing the excitement with the children on the sidelines and cheering the intrepid runners at the start - Erin in her pushchair and Cameron clutching my hand . As soon as Cameron could negotiate the 2 ½ kms, he enthusiastically joined the start line and I trotted alongside him pushing Erin in the pushchair; 3 years ago she, Cameron and I ran the distance all together. Last year there was a change - a symbol of developing independence. Cameron, having gained confidence and speed felt assured enough to charge ahead and run his 9-year-old fastest - just within my sight-line - while I jogged and walked along with the slower Erin. We met up at the finish line where they proudly held up their finishing ribbons.
And so the Vancouver Sun Run dawned this year – but this year the Moore family was two family members down. Mike was in Columbia, Ohio delivering a workshop, and wasn't there to join the throng of 10km runners and of course there was no Erin to cajole and encourage to catch her brother. I cannot pretend that it was easy. Although it was a glorious nigh-summer day and a friend rode down with me and accompanied me to the start line for moral support, it did not help to allay the vice-like grip of emptiness inside.
I remembered Erin’s fear and recoil 4 years ago at seeing a man dressed in a huge Canuck suit and how tightly she clutched me. I imagined this year her chubby hand in mine, still garnering my moral support, as the crowd thronged forward towards the start line. Cameron, however, oblivious to the change in routine, was focused on reserving his energy and ensuring a swift race. I braced myself to pace myself running alongside Cameron rather than pacing behind with the slower Erin. As the crowd surged forward he bolted off with the starter whistle. I, past-competitive long-distance runner, was left in his dust - alone. My son was surprisingly fast and it took me almost two kilometers to catch up to him and when I did, he had an astonishing burst of speed which took him to the finish line 30 meters ahead of me. He finished a proud 7th of the whole field, the youngest of those first runners to cross the finish line.
So beckons another year of burgeoning independence and autonomy. Two days before Erin’s accident we had a happy three generational girls outing together to Squamish – Grandmother (Mamgu), mother, and daughter. While Mamgu did her final Christmas shopping, Erin and I went swimming. I remember thinking that another milestone was met as children under 7 needed to be within arms distance of an adult. While I pounded my 50 lengths, Erin swirled and swished by herself in the pool. She fobbed off my help in shampooing and showering afterwards, asserting her fierce independence with one of her catch-phrases from her earliest days: 'I can do it by myself'. 'Go away!'. And the day before her accident, her fashion flair and autonomy was asserted as she dressed herself in her favourite shorts and t-shirt and red Dorothy high-heeled shoes to brace the zero degree Sunday. She was so secure within herself and knew her mind! I so miss seeing the daily personal zany and eclectic combinations of bright clothing and shoes with which she would broach the day. In our agonising first outing skiing in Whistler without Erin, I ruefully reflected that at 8 years old she would have been able to ride the chairlift on her own. Children’s unique emerging personalities and ability to embrace the world on their own terms is one the immense privileges of parenting.
Each day, each week, each month, each year for our children is a gradual growing up, letting go, moving on and striding ahead. We need to make space for them to be themselves, to express themselves and to forge in to the world on their own to be themselves. Too, too soon these precious moments of needing us as parents and being alongside us will have flown. These moments are so precious. Each and every one - celebrate them and hold on to them tightly - for soon our children will have charged in to the distance and we'll be left behind.
On our arrival in Canada when the children were 1 and 3 years old, the Vancouver Sun Run quickly became one of the annual features on the Moore outdoors and running calendar with Mike joining the 40 000 people running the 10km. The first couple of years in Vancouver, I was quite happy just in accompaniment. I enjoyed infusing the excitement with the children on the sidelines and cheering the intrepid runners at the start - Erin in her pushchair and Cameron clutching my hand . As soon as Cameron could negotiate the 2 ½ kms, he enthusiastically joined the start line and I trotted alongside him pushing Erin in the pushchair; 3 years ago she, Cameron and I ran the distance all together. Last year there was a change - a symbol of developing independence. Cameron, having gained confidence and speed felt assured enough to charge ahead and run his 9-year-old fastest - just within my sight-line - while I jogged and walked along with the slower Erin. We met up at the finish line where they proudly held up their finishing ribbons.
And so the Vancouver Sun Run dawned this year – but this year the Moore family was two family members down. Mike was in Columbia, Ohio delivering a workshop, and wasn't there to join the throng of 10km runners and of course there was no Erin to cajole and encourage to catch her brother. I cannot pretend that it was easy. Although it was a glorious nigh-summer day and a friend rode down with me and accompanied me to the start line for moral support, it did not help to allay the vice-like grip of emptiness inside.
I remembered Erin’s fear and recoil 4 years ago at seeing a man dressed in a huge Canuck suit and how tightly she clutched me. I imagined this year her chubby hand in mine, still garnering my moral support, as the crowd thronged forward towards the start line. Cameron, however, oblivious to the change in routine, was focused on reserving his energy and ensuring a swift race. I braced myself to pace myself running alongside Cameron rather than pacing behind with the slower Erin. As the crowd surged forward he bolted off with the starter whistle. I, past-competitive long-distance runner, was left in his dust - alone. My son was surprisingly fast and it took me almost two kilometers to catch up to him and when I did, he had an astonishing burst of speed which took him to the finish line 30 meters ahead of me. He finished a proud 7th of the whole field, the youngest of those first runners to cross the finish line.
So beckons another year of burgeoning independence and autonomy. Two days before Erin’s accident we had a happy three generational girls outing together to Squamish – Grandmother (Mamgu), mother, and daughter. While Mamgu did her final Christmas shopping, Erin and I went swimming. I remember thinking that another milestone was met as children under 7 needed to be within arms distance of an adult. While I pounded my 50 lengths, Erin swirled and swished by herself in the pool. She fobbed off my help in shampooing and showering afterwards, asserting her fierce independence with one of her catch-phrases from her earliest days: 'I can do it by myself'. 'Go away!'. And the day before her accident, her fashion flair and autonomy was asserted as she dressed herself in her favourite shorts and t-shirt and red Dorothy high-heeled shoes to brace the zero degree Sunday. She was so secure within herself and knew her mind! I so miss seeing the daily personal zany and eclectic combinations of bright clothing and shoes with which she would broach the day. In our agonising first outing skiing in Whistler without Erin, I ruefully reflected that at 8 years old she would have been able to ride the chairlift on her own. Children’s unique emerging personalities and ability to embrace the world on their own terms is one the immense privileges of parenting.
Each day, each week, each month, each year for our children is a gradual growing up, letting go, moving on and striding ahead. We need to make space for them to be themselves, to express themselves and to forge in to the world on their own to be themselves. Too, too soon these precious moments of needing us as parents and being alongside us will have flown. These moments are so precious. Each and every one - celebrate them and hold on to them tightly - for soon our children will have charged in to the distance and we'll be left behind.