When I was a kid, I remember my Dad going for a run down the country dirt road near our home every day after work. He'd run regardless of the weather or how tired he was. My brother and I would sit in our sandbox and wait for the first sight of him as he ran up the hill near the back of our house.
As we got older, Bubba and I were finally allowed to go running with him. Dad sometimes changed stuff up on us and would take us for a run at the local high school track which was something I was NEVER able to get into. Running endless circles around the same track wasn't fun to me and, to this day, it's something I avoid at all costs.
He always made sure that Bubba and I paced ourselves. He never pushed me to run faster than I was comfortable doing (my brother always managed to lap me). He knew that running slow was frustrating for me and explained that I should enjoy each run and feel at ease. That's something that I still believe when it comes to running - do it, enjoy it and have fun.
Nowadays, he doesn't do much running. He can usually be seen walking his dog, Jake, around the neighborhood. But in my mind, he's still that athletic, muscular guy that ran 4 miles every day.
Happy Father's Day, Dad!
Love,
Valeka
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