There is one thing that never fails to get me moving on a run - the mental image of my dad, secluded and serious, alongside the course during my highschool cross country races. Most specifically, he stood about 100 yards from any other spectator and roughly 500 yards from the finish line at Pioneers. We'd crest Choo Choo hill and take a sharp left running across a flat where the crowd flanked the course. My dad was further down, just after we crossed the dirt road and before we turned to the final "u", tucked neatly in the trees. He quietly encouraged me, never failing to mention how close my nearest competition was....and the urgency in his voice never failed me when I was about to be overtaken. He was as much a part of the race as I was. I can't help but envision him there when I run, and it makes me smile...and inevetiable ends up with me sprinting to my driveway and clinging to life as I finish my workout.
My dad also made pancakes for breakfast every day I had a competition in high school. And although he doesn't remember it (he was stressed), I looked forward to it every time, and I hope someday my kids will hold such memories of Chris and I.
Kudos Frosty....Love you much.
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