my last race...

My dad was the first “running buddy” I ever had. When in elementary school we realized I was gifted, and his “little speed demon” he is the one who would go on my weekend jogs with me. Eventually I left him in the dust and that probably spurred his name he gave me for Indian Princesses “Runs like the Wind”. Daddy was at every race, and if he wasn’t there of course I had to call him right before. He was the one person I looked for during my races and always kept my ears in tune for his yelling, if he told me to go, I WENT. So many early mornings with him driving to my races, or staying in hotels in the middle of nowhere to run at Woodward. So many dishes left in his car as I slept and ate on the way to my races. He could tell exactly how I was feeling during a race; in pain, determined, or angry. Even in college I have to call him right before my race and have a minor panic attack if he is not there. He has definitely been my number one fan and encourager when I have been frustrated or disappointed in my performance or with an injury. He has researched my injuries, found me doctors, massaged my shins, cracked my back, kissed my blisters, tightened my spikes, and carried me when I am too exhausted. The man probably ran twice as much as me during some of my xc races just so he could get to the spots I told him I need him to be. I mean the man ran to the top of the library hill at this fall’s Westmont invite, talk about devotion (and that also shows how fast that dang cancer sprung up). My dad has driven me to every wharf to wharf race for the past probably 9 years or so (except this last one cuz my best friends were visiting so they drove me). I am about to really have my last race while being part of a team. It is SO bizarre, I have been competitively running since 6^th grade, and now that chapter is going to close. My dad is going to be at the race (oh and did I mention I of course had to choose the 10 k, yes, that is 25 laps, yes I am aware I am insane). I have not been running well this track season, probably because my stress level and lack of sleep and other things need my emotional strength more these days compared to racing. I am going to run my best, coach and me do not have any expectations for me, and just finishing is enough of an accomplishment right now for us. But having my dad be at my last race, just like he was at my first race when I was a scrawny 6^th grader at the Campbell middle school race where I went out way too fast and learned my lesson. Having him there is enough, and this personal battle I know the race is going to be is going to be a testament to myself and my dad that we can do anything when we trust in God’s strength to provide even in the scariest and most limited situations. This fall I will be coaching, driving to all the same races I ran in my younger years where my dad was always at the finish line, so it will be fun to reminiscence on all those early morning drives to invitationals, or late afternoon backseat changes from cross-country uniform to soccer cleats as we book it across town.