Thanks, Dad

I ran my first ever road race with my grandfather when I was probably in fourth grade.  I don't remember much about it other than it was in Alplaus, New York and it was only one mile long.  At the time, my paternal grandfather was a runner.  In fact, my grandfather hit the pavement almost daily until his doctor told him his body couldn't take it anymore-- that's when he switched to long walks instead.  I used to think that was really cool: my grandpa was a runner.  I didn't know oother grandpas who did anything besides play bridge and visit the cardiologist.  (Actually, that's a lie: my mom's dad was- and still is- an avid tennis player.  My grandpas rock.)  Grandpa was an OG before I even knew what that was.

My dad was a runner, too.  I don't think we ever watched him do a road race, but I remember him going out for long runs on the weekend.  He used to have a collection of t-shirts from races he completed.  I have a vivid memory of a white, long-sleeved shirt with black lettering and a big, red heart on it.  Pretty sure that was from the Ellis Hospital Cardiac Classic 5k.  Also pretty sure my brother still wears it.

Since I wasn't a runner, I never talked about it with my dad or with my grandpa.  That one mile fun run I did with Grandpa was the only race I did until I completed my first 5k about two and a half years ago.  Looking back, I wish I stuck with running-- it would have been a really fun thing to do with Dad and Grandpa.

Even though my dad stopped running many years ago, I finally got the chance this weekend to share running with him.  The annual Stockade-a-thon was held on Sunday and, through a series of good luck and kind race organizers, I was able to score a last minute bib number for the event.  The Stockade-a-thon is a 15k run that tours my hometown of Schenectady, New York.  The race starts in Central Park, winds through the GE Plot, the historical Stockade and the formerly gang-occupied (but now really pretty!) Vale Cemetery before ending back at the park.  It also meanders through the streets where some of The Place Beyond the Pines was filmed.  (That's my only connection to the hotness that is Ryan Gosling.  I had to mention it.)

My dad is the real reason why I was able to get into this year's race.  Not only did he look up who I needed to call, but he also paid for my bib number... and took me out to brunch after I finished.  (Thanks, Dad!)  My dad ran the Stockade-a-thon twice before and his experience in the race was invaluable.  When it comes to most of my life, I am very Type A: I like a plan and an order.  With running?  Not so much.  I tend to just wing it.  I figure I will just run until I get to the finish line: no need to over think anything.  Fortunately, my dad convinced me that was a stupid approach.  The Stockade-a-thon is a total pain in the ass kind of race.  It's essentially all downhill for the first half.  Since it's a loop course, that means it's all uphill the second half.  Dad drove me around the course the night before the race and pointed out to me all the flats that would be deceiving and all the hills that would suck.  He also printed out the course map for me and put an X on the spots where he would would be to cheer me on.

The Stockade-a-thon was awesome.  Except for the total hot mess that was the start (and the first mile, really), the race was great.  The course was just as dad told me it would be: easy at first and then up, up, up.  I didn't want to expend too much energy on the flats, so I ran about nine minute splits for the first 5k.  My dad was at approximately the three mile mark, ready to give me a high five and a hug.  Seeing my dad at that point in the race totally energized me and reminded me why I run: to have fun!  At that point, I was running next to some guy who was literally hacking up his lung and shooting off snot rockets like he was a booger-filled NASA or something.  This dude was not enjoying himself.  In fact, it didn't look like many of the runners around me were having any fun at all.  I don't know how you should look one third of the way through a nine-mile run, but like death is not it.  Once I left my dad, I cranked the music on my headphones and rocked out.  Hard.  I tend to do a lot of air drumming if I am having a good run.  I can confidently say I air drummed most of the final six miles of the Stockade-a-thon.  I was having a full on dance party... with myself.  I was lip synching and throwing up diva hands while Beyonce, Britney and Katy Perry motivated me through the hills.  Go ahead and make fun of me, but my splits were lower than they were the first 5k.  I ran about 8:30 to 8:40 splits the final two thirds of the race.  My fastest mile was even the one with the biggest hill!  D-d-d-diva is a female version of a hustla.

I saw my dad again at the top of the Bradley Street hill and again at the finish line.  At the hill, he joked that I had too much energy to have just run up an incline like that.  Maybe I didn't push myself hard enough, but I think I was so amped because my dad was there.  Seeing my dad along the way and sharing this race with him was the best part of the Stockade-a-thon.  I know my dad is really proud of me, but I don't always get to see that because I live so far from him.  Running the Stockade-a-thon was one of the first times my dad was there to see me achieve something big-ish.  Not to be sappy or anything, but it was pretty special... and a whole lot of fun, too.

The next big thing I hope to accomplish is running the Boston Marathon.  When I called my dad to tell him I got into the race, his response was something like this: "That's great!  I will be there."  I know I will give a lot of high fives when I run the Marathon (I am kind of a high five junkie), but none will be as awesome as the one I will give my dad.

Dad and I after the Stockade-a-thon

Distance Sunday (11/10): 9.3 miles (Stockade-a-thon)
Time Sunday: 1 hour, 25 minutes
Cumulative Distance Since Blog Started: 35.02 miles
Cumulative Time Since Blog Started: 5 hours, 33 minutes