Running and my dad

The only thing I know about my moms labor with me is that she got mad at my Dad because he was watching the summer Olympics at the hospital while she was having contractions. He was probably watching track. Most of my pajamas as a toddler were my dad’s running T-Shirts that he got from various races.  Dad now thinks of training for marathons as a hobby, some people build a new model air plane every few months, my dad runs a marathon every few months.

Whenever I got new shoes as a kid I was sure that they would help me run faster. In third grade we were timed running a mile. I ran it 7 minutes and 47 seconds. Which is pretty decent for an 8 year old. Of course my dad was excited that one of his five kids might like running too. Soon I was on the Baron Park Striders track team. From the very beginning of my running career I gravitated towards long distances. When I was 9 I talked the officials at the Hersey track meet into let me run in the mile even though you technically had to be 10 years old to qualify.

I did track all through middle school and added cross country in high school. I was never one of the fastest runners but I enjoyed myself and always did my best. Dad would take me to the track and time me running splits and talk racing strategy with me. He always picked a few meets each season and left work early so he could come cheer me on. That meant a lot to me.

As I got older and busier it became harder and harder to fit running into my day. Soon after Stephen was born I decided wanted to start running again. Dad said he would come to Utah and run a marathon with me if I wanted. So I began to train. The thing about training for a marathon when you have a little baby at home who doesn’t believe in sleeping for longer than 3 hours at a time is that you are exhausted at the beginning of your run as well as at the end. I somehow managed to run a marathon when Stephen was 8 months old. I hadn’t done nearly enough training but I finished, with my dad at my side.

Two kids later I was feeling flabbier than I ever had before and knew I wanted to get back in shape. After a few weeks of running I decided to run another marathon. I called Dad and he said he was in. So I began to train again. Saturday afternoons I would call dad and see how far he had ran that week and compare our training routines. I trained right this time and felt much more prepared for the race.

The middle of June came around and I was ready. We were running in the Utah Valley Marathon and it had a beautiful course that started way up Provo Canyon and ended about half a mile from my house. We got on the bus to take us to the start at about 4:30 a.m.

And then it started raining, and raining for about the first 13 miles of the race. And not a light trickily rain it was a pouring until your toes are squishing in the water in your shoes rain. My dad told me that out of the nearly 20 marathons he had run that one had the worst conditions. We finished though, and I was in better shape than I had been in years.

I had every intention of continuing to run after the marathon. It didn’t happen though. I blame it on baby number four who I was actually 6 weeks pregnant with when I ran the marathon. I was soon to tired to do anymore than keep up with 3 kids and running got dropped from my schedule.

William (baby number four) has easily taken the award for most needy baby. It seems like his goal for the first year of life was to prevent me from accomplishing anything other than taking care of him. It you want proof of this look at the dishes in my sink. Gratefully he is starting to grow out of this and I don’t feel completely exhausted at the end of every day. Enough so that I have began to exercise again.

I started out with exercise videos in my living room and since the weather outside has been better I have been walking, which can be quite the work out when you are trying to walk fast while pushing three kids in a stroller. Now that it is not dark when Michael gets home from work I might actually have some time to go out running.  And I am excited. I love the tingly exhausted feeling my muscles you get after a good run.

Running plays a different role in my life now than it did when I was a teenager but it is still important to me. It’s not about racing in a track meet or getting a personal best time anymore. It’s about getting out of the house, taking a break and doing something for me. And my Dad has been there with me no matter what my running goal has been.

My parents are visiting next week. I think I will ask my dad if he wants to go for a run.