Apple of My Eye

On genetics and sportsmanship...

I swear there is a genetic trait for competitiveness. I've not been able to confirm this, and only if my twins had been separated at birth and raised by monkeys would I actually be able to prove this on my own. So, I'm going on instinct. Hear me out.

Case in Point

APPLE:

Beck competes with his twin brother Max (and 100+ other 3d grade boys) at their first cross country track meet. M places 7th, B places 10th. B cries his little eyeballs out after making it through the chute. Why? Not because his brother beat him, but because he placed LAST in the top 10. Really? Yes, really. It took about an hour to convince him that it was indeed a stellar performance and yes, there is always room for improvement. Next year he can strive to do better.  Where did such high expectations come from? We were just thrilled that he finished.

TREE:

Running has been a sporadic exercise outlet in my adult life, and I've run an array of races over the past 20 years. That said, I've probably never run the same one twice, and I couldn't tell you what time I finished a 10k in at age 25. NOW, I seem to be obsessed by my data, stats and figures, totally nerding out on the details of my workouts. Last weekend I ran a half marathon for the second year in a row. And I had a GOAL. I wanted to beat my time from last year (2:09). I ran my ass off, and tracked it via Runkeeper on my iPhone. The whole time I was averaging a 9:30ish pace, so upon reading the results that I came in at 2:07 (instead of 2:06) I had a FIT. Like a tantrum fit. My dad and hubs were like, "it's only a 1% difference! what's the big deal?" and then--uh oh, "what is your problem? you're acting like Beck".

Unfortunately, my little apple does not fall far from this tree. As much as we try to model an ideal set of behaviors, and communicate realistic expectations we simply cannot expect our children to do as we say and not as we do. I recognize that these patterns lie deep within us, carried from one generation to the next. Can they be changed? As gentle as we treated Beck that day, expressing our great love and support, perhaps I need to do the same for myself. Oh, and for the record...I read the results wrong. I DID finish in 2:06.