Tasting the Landscape: Running Buddies.

While, I am a bit late for Father's Day, I'd like to take a minute to talk about how my dad introduced me to one of the most constant, comforting, and self-defining aspects of my life: running. Back when I was in junior high--close to two decades ago--my dad put on a pair of black sneakers and decided to run a few laps around the track. In no time, he was burning through running shoes, spending many an early morning, evening, or Saturday logging double digits with his two feet, and collecting lots of race number bibs. He got faster and ran farther. He ran marathons. He got hooked. Somewhere along the way, he invited me to run with him (or maybe I tagged along)--which, I now understand, is a big deal...to compromise your perfect pace or to give up some some solo zen time. Our first race together was the May Day 5-K and he stayed with me and pushed me the entire, excruciating distance of 3.1 miles.

Somewhere along the way, we became running buddies. We motivated each other to get out and go when one or neither wanted to lace up. We pushed each other--okay, he pushed me...speeding up and making me keep up while I muttered under my breath. We ran races together; my favorite was the Double Bridge Run in Pensacola Beach, FL. More than anything, we bonded in a way that a teenage daughter and her dad might not have otherwise.

Since moving many miles from home and my parents, I have continued to wake up, lace up, and run. I've run a few marathons in that time and, each time--as I dig deep--I hear my dad's voice in my head and feel him as the wind at my back. I think we both hear and feel each other on race days and challenging runs. This weekend, my dad ran a great race and placed 1st in his age group; from miles away, I felt so excited and proud. Happy Father's Day, dad, and thanks for continuing to inspire me to put one foot in front of the other!