Just Me and My Dad

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

My local running club holds a father's day 10k every year.  I really like this idea, because running reminds me of my dad.  When my dad was my age, he ran, too, until his doctor told him he had to stop.  When I was 14 and trying out for the WLHS soccer team, and I was required to run 2 miles as part of the try out, he helped me run 2 miles in 16 minutes as part of my training.  (That's still the fastest 2 miles I've ever run, I believe.)  When I was 21, my dad flew to Chicago to see me run in the Chicago Marathon.  Last year, I decided that running a half marathon to raise money for the Lance Armstrong Foundation was the best way I could honor my dad's fight with cancer, and I've been running ever since.  In last year's Father's Day 10k, I ran my best 10k time with the best race pace I've run in any race, ever.  I was extra excited for this year's race because Billy's parents, Patti and Chuck, were planning to come cheer me on.

This morning, I ran my worst race ever-- no exaggeration.  It was around 80 degrees with high humidity at race time.  I was doing well through mile 4 (of 6.2) and then I bonked.  During mile 5, I thought I was going to throw up.  During mile 6, I thought I was going to have to stop to walk.  But the signs they had placed up along the course kept reminding me it was father's day, so I thought about what my dad would have said: just keep going until you can't go anymore.  And I found that I could keep going until I crossed the finish line, even though my time was about 6 or 7 minutes slower than last year's PR, even though I lost my most recent cup of water after I stopped.  Oops.  

I know what my dad would have said then, too.  "Are you okay?" followed by "at least you finished hard."  That's what my dad has taught me my whole life, and continues to teach me in his own battle with cancer: accept the challenge, remain determined, and finish as hard as you can.  That way, even if the  results you achieve are not necessarily what you had hoped for, you know you've given it your best shot.

Thanks, Dad.

(Just Me and My Dad is a children's book from the Little Critter books by Mercer Mayer.  I loved these books when I was a kid, and I couldn't choose any title from "classic literature," because for a multitude of reasons, "father" seems to be a bad word among writers.)