Dadisms...

Today marks 4 months.  Seriously, how is that possible?  And yet, how has it only been that long?

Dadism:  "Real runners don't match."

He had a point.  Ever look around the gym at who's really working hard?  Or who has a good, toned body?  Or notice a runner whizz past you while you're outside jogging?  I betcha they're not wearing those ridiculous 5-finger shoes.  Or a matching neon-green-Reebok-shorts-tee-jacket-shoe outfit, gabbing at the water fountain.  He was right.  Real runners don't match.  They have a beloved pair of shorts and a ratty t-shirt and are actually doing something.  (In the interest of telling the truth, however, I must admit I do prefer to pick "coordinating" running outfits.  ;)  Sometimes I wear striped shorts with a bold print top, but that goes against my better judgement!)  My father was the one who introduced me to running.  He used to love running.  He'd go every day on his lunch break and run around the DC monuments.  When he got a little older, and he became more of a "brittle" Diabetic, he stopped.  That's when he got me into running by riding his bike next to me while I ran.  I hated it at first but now I really enjoy it.  I love everything about it.... that I'm alone, that I can get lost in my thoughts, that I end up sweaty and tired, that I feel strong and healthy when I'm done, that I'm setting a good example for my sons, that my dad was the one who got me started.  I think a lot about my dad when I run... mostly that I wish he would've been healthy enough to go on a few with me.