Dad Wouldn't Let Me Quit

And boy did I want to!

On Sunday I ran the Wounded Warrior half marathon with my dad, step sister and her husband.  For starters, I didn't train.  Like, at all.  Then there was all this rain which I was OK with because it would give me a great reason for my slow time.  "Yeah, it was totally crazy out there and that's why my time was terrible." 

The race was delayed for an hour.  Meanwhile, we hung out in a dank, and dirty parking garage.

My favorite part of the whole race.

The race began and immediately my dad took off at his normal pace.  He had been saying he was going to hang back with me and take this one "easy", but I really, really hoped he wouldn't.  I knew I would be slow. I knew I would crash early.  

That was  a part of the park path we were suppose to be running on but they rerouted us back up and across the overpass.

This is at about mile 4 or 5 and I was already feeling shitty.  A conversation with dad around this point went kind of like this...  

"I don't know, I think maybe the humidity is making it difficult to breathe."- Me  

"I think you're just out of shape."- Dad.

It was an out and back course, and I remember it wasn't too far after the turn around when I started getting really angry that dad wouldn't ditch me.  I wanted to walk so bad and his constant accountability was pissing me off.  I was in my own head (and really out of shape) and things were going terribly.  We finally figured out how to keep me going by creating small obtainable goals with the reward of a short walk.  This is why the run/walk works for me.  I always have something to look forward to!  

All that water wasn't there on the way out.  I guess that's how much it rained on us.  It was kind of fun to run through though.  Dad hung back to take my picture and then went sprinting through, splashing everyone.

Even as we were nearing the finishing the chute I was angry.  I wasn't "allowed" to walk anymore and everyone kept saying we were there but I couldn't see it and I wanted to stop and walk soooo bad!

We ended with a time of 2:41.  Not too bad, I guess, for not training.  It definitely would have been closer to  3 hours if I had had it my way.

Here's a shot of me being quite hilarious after the race.

Fast forward to Wednesday and I'm leaving karate class with all the kids in the car.  Braden got to participate in a little kids Kempo Karate class after Alaurie's regular one.  When we were in the car I asked if he liked it and if he wanted to do it again.  He looked like he was having a blast so I was shocked when he said "Nah, I don't want to".  He said it made him tired.  So then I say, "It's OK to be tired.  I get tired all the time when I run.  I got really tired in that race the other day but your Pappy wouldn't let me stop."

And that's when I realized that I'm 30 years old and my dad still won't let me quit something after I've started.  It's not a bad way to be raised.

-Hugh Jass

**Bonus Gross Out**

My dad's toenail