Rewind a year….our little 5-almost-6 year old guy had made it to the main event (the finals in BMX) for the first time. His qualifying race was nerve-racking for his mother and I because of his aggression and lack of control; but he made it. He was very excited for his chance to win it all. He got up to the starting gate, put on his game-face, and waited for the starting signal. He launched himself from the gate’s drop with all the force he could muster and ripped down the ramp racing into the first set of jumps. To my surprise he launched himself off the first one higher and farther than ever before. I saw him hit the base of the jump and struggle to land it. He didn’t.

With a shudder of fear I saw him hit face-first into the compacted soil and slide about 10-feet. He wasn’t moving. I, and others, ran to him. By the time I got there he was moving and whimpering. He had lost consciousness but was coming back. The impact was absorbed by his full-face motorcycle helmet, but still cut up his chin. Once he was aware of his surroundings again he started to cry. He wouldn’t finish the race. He wouldn’t finish the season. He was scared. No, he was terrified.

Post Crash

For the next year we repeatedly encouraged our little guy to try again. So did his hero and BMX mentor, Kolin. He refused, adamantly. He wanted us to sell his bike. He wanted, no demanded, that we sell everything relating to BMX. He was defeated. As parents we wanted to see him overcome his fears, but as parents we didn’t have the power to do that. This could only be done by him. We didn’t sell any of his gear, we just put it away hoping and praying that he would face his fears.

Flash back to May of this year. Out of nowhere our little guy announces he wants to go watch Kolin practice at the Rad Canyon track. For various reasons we couldn’t make it work immediately. A week later he told Andrea that he wanted to go practice. She took him to the next practice which was June 2nd (sadly I was working late that night and couldn’t make it). Andrea sent me a text that night from the track “He’s doing it! Cautiously, but doing it, starting gates and all.” I was overcome with emotion. He was facing his fears. He was doing it!

So back to last night…

Our little BMXer raced well considering he hadn’t raced in a year and he was nervous. He took 2nd in his first heat just out of 1st place. He rode cautiously, too cautiously. But he made it to the next heat. By the beginning of the qualifying heat he was starting to get his fire back telling me “I’ll win by a long ways this time.” He came in second again behind the boy who took 3rd in their previous heat.

Enjoying the Moment

When the main event was announced we put his helmet on while he put on his gloves. He was excited and feeling confident. He didn’t need me to go up to the staging area. He could “handle it” by himself. When the starting gate dropped he ripped down the ramp, up and over the jumps, pumped through the rhythm sections and took the big arching corners proficiently, even gaining on first place at each turn. He crossed the finish line right behind the winner. He was exuberant. He placed 2nd overall. His first main event finish.

Main Event - 2nd Place Overall

After celebrating and admiring his trophy, in a moment of reflection our little guy said “Dad, it feels good to face your fears.” Yes son, it certainly does.

Jared didn’t want to finish the race, I don’t blame him. I was still nervous and worried that he was injured. Luckily the only thing really hurt was his pride. He was pretty upset that he didn’t get to finish. The kid that won was beaten by Jared by a sizable distance in the semi’s.

As soon as we got home and I got his bike off the rack, Jared was off riding. The picture shows his trophy, which says “Main Event Qualifier,” and his scuffed-up chin (he was wearing a full-face motocycle helment, which demonstrates how hard he hit).

Way to go Jared. We’re proud of you!

He wanted it bad!