This race wasn’t about making it to the finish line. It was one of my slowest times ever, but I didn’t care. This one was about the people running and walking alongside of me and the reason why we were there.
This one was for my Dad.
Most of the time my competitive edge gets me and I nearly kill myself trying to keep up with the AARP Triathlon chick zooming passed me. But this time I was all right hanging back. In fact I actually walked some of it and for the first time walking didn’t seem to be an athletic failure in my jock-minded head. In fact, walking was supposed to be part of the race. It was in the title. But regardless of whether we were walking or running, I was glad to have shared this with my kids. I was glad they knew what we were doing and why. I was glad they took part in raising money for the American Lung Association. I was glad they were doing it for my dad and for other people who were in my father’s shoes.
I wanted to hang back at the end, but The Little Guats decided to move to the front and join the warm-up party.
Then apparently some stretching.
We said a little something about why we were doing it.
And then we were off … after checking out the crowd I was happy that The Little Guats decided to move to the front of the line.
A few participants needed a quick little break.
As the race progressed my son developed a competitive edge. He saw a few boys ahead of us and decided to quicken the pace.
In the end, my kids were happy to see the volunteers’ signs and receive their high-fives on a job well-done.
The Wish Factor 