In which Kym teaches us about sport. And life.

You know how we all talk of competing being more important than winning, that camaraderie and sportspersonship in sports is worth the price of a bad day at the tracks, that empathy and humanity trumps all podiums finishes, and that without being a good human, all medals and trophies are just scrap metal? Of course, this is good in theory, but how many of us actually practice this? How many of us would actually do what we preach? Not many. How do I know? Because stories of competitors being nice to each other, even sacrificing their wins to help each other out are held up as exemplary and rare in our culture so much so that books and articles are written about them and they are taught to entrepreneurs and athletes as something out of the ordinary. So, even though each one of you readers would claim that you'd behave differently in a scenario where you must choose between yourself and your fellow human competitor, I know it would not be as easy or as commonplace for anyone to actually get themselves to do so, including me.

So, it is no surprise that we expected all our lessons of sportspersonship and empathy to be taken with a pinch of salt, and the shouted out exhortations to RUN and WIN be actually implemented in the arena where it mattered.

Well, guess what? We just got schooled. By our own kid.

Today was Race #3 and while she took off like a hare, as she usually does, she was nowhere to be seen at the finish line as the minutes ticked away and her mum (I could not make it today, but her ever-enthusiastic Mamma bear was there to encourage her) started to worry. Eventually, she was well past her time and Mamma bear started to wonder if she should run the other way to find the little one, only to find Kym coming along the line over the horizon. She was chatting with an elder-looking girl as she jogged without effort, making no break towards the finish or even bothering about it. Once she finished, she introduced her new friend but Mamma bear was only interested in finding out why she was slow.

Her answer: "It is XXXX's (her new 10yo friend) first race and I saw her slowing down and stopping on the route. I thought I should cheer and encourage her to finish; so, I ran with her. Sorry Mamma, my timing got spoilt. I'll make it up the next time."

We couldn't be prouder parents.

And yes, I am not crying. You are.