A SoleKIDs Story

Do you think my kid can do this?

That's the question we hear more than any other. Let us tell you about Casey.

It was May 19. We'd just wrapped up eight weeks of training, and it was about twenty minutes before the spring race would begin. My mind was already exhausted — I was making sure volunteers were in place so all 150-plus runners could get through the course safely. Coach Bunn ran up to me. "Hey, there's a four-year-old who'd like to run with her brother. Is that okay?" With more than a decade of school administration behind me, I knew exactly how loaded that question really was. Despite my reservations, I said, "Yes, of course that's fine." That was it. I didn't know anything else — until later.

In the crowd, there was Casey. She wanted to run the race with her brother. As a parent, I understand the instinct to make sure your kids get every opportunity. But the world is full of "no," and "you're not ready," and "maybe when you're older." Lucky for Casey, her parents agreed — so long as the SoleKIDs people said it was okay. We all did.

So there Casey was, stretching and getting ready to run. Yeah, that was really her. The proof is in the fifteen-hundred-plus pictures we took that night — I'm not sure I'd believe this story myself otherwise.

We finished the pre-race warm-ups, moved over to the starting line, and at 7:00, let the runners go.

The course was two loops. The best part of two loops is that parents, grandparents, and family get to see their runners come by more than once. The downside is that anyone struggling with the distance gets a tempting early off-ramp. And that did happen, here and there.

Our photographers were instructed to focus on runners wearing lime green shirts. Frankly, none of us had any idea what Casey was quietly accomplishing out there.

By halfway, Casey could see the finish line — but she was supposed to run straight past it and start a second lap. If you've ever run a race broken into loops, you know exactly how tempting that finish line looks after the first one. She kept going. She hit the water stop and started her second lap.

The second half of a race is nothing like the first. The excitement is gone, and there's a creeping "what have I gotten myself into?" This is where you learn to push through — it's hard, even for seasoned runners. From here, all that matters is finishing what you started. Casey's goal was to run with her first-grade brother, Colton, and she stayed with him the whole way. Colton crossed the finish line in 33 minutes, 22 seconds.

And then — there was Casey — in 34 minutes and about 50 seconds. If you've never run a 5K, let me put that in perspective: plenty of adults train hard just to break 30 minutes. Here was a four-year-old, with no training at all, running a 35-minute 5K. Casey did have one advantage, though — she lives in a world where nobody's told her she "can't." So she didn't let that stop her.

But that's not where the story ends. Next came the awards ceremony. Remember, we'd told our volunteers to watch for the lime green shirts. Casey crossed the finish line and didn't get a finisher's medal.

It didn't seem to bother her. She was just happy to have run with her brother. She watched everyone else collect their medals — no recognition for her — and she was okay with it, content in knowing what she'd done on her own. Partway through the ceremony, a hiccup in the results paused everything while I went to go check with the timing table.

That's when Coach Jamie and Coach Kalli spotted her. They'd been out on the course. They'd watched her start, watched her run a full lap, watched her finish — and they'd talked with her parents about what she'd just done. During the pause in the ceremony, they realized Casey should have had a medal all along. So they called her up.

I know there are people who'd say we shouldn't have let this happen — that a four-year-old can't do this. Maybe they're right. But nobody told that to Casey. And she did it anyway.

We can only hope the rest of the world looks a little more like that night — a place where nobody tells you "you can't," or "you're not ready," or "maybe when you're older." Until then, remember Casey. She showed us exactly what happens when nobody stands in your way.

Thank you, Casey. You are a Sole KID!!!