“Wow that’s a lot of kids!” my wife said as I showed her
photos of the 5-K race that Brady and I had participated in earlier that
morning. A friend of mine from a local
hiking group was an avid supporter of bringing sexually exploited women and
children to justice and had signed up for a 5-K to support the cause,
recruiting others within the group to join.
Not only was it a great cause, but I viewed it as a great opportunity to
run with some old friends and meet some new people.
The race was held in Glendora, about forty minutes east of
our apartment in the Palms neighborhood of Los Angeles. I leashed up Brady, grabbed my Vibrams, and a
cup of coffee and hit the road. Janet
would have joined us but she wanted to focus on her CPA studies so we could
kick back together later that day. Upon
arriving, we rendezvoused with our friends, took some pictures, and caught
up. One of our runners, Denis, had
brought along his son, Michael. This was
going to be Michael’s second 5-K. “How
old are you, buddy?” I asked as Denis introduced him to us. “Ten” he answered quietly, smiling. He had an athletic build, was tall for his
age, and bore a strong resemblance to his Dad.
“And you’re running your second 5-K?
That’s awesome!” I liked this kid already. The average ten-year-old would dread waking
up early on a weekend morning and running a 5-K race but here he was doing it
for a second time. One of the race
directors held up a megaphone. “Two
minutes until race start!” he announced from the stage. We made our way to the start line and began
when the gun went off at 8:00 AM. Our
group disbursed, the faster runners charging ahead, the slower ones staying
behind. Brady and I hung in the back and
jogged along the street up a gradual incline facing the San Gabriel
Mountains. Confused by the presence of
the large crowd and commotion, Brady didn’t know what to make of the situation
at first, but he soon began to hop along with his tongue out, basking in the
experience. At the one mile mark we came
up behind Denis and Michael. They were
moving at a modest pace and Michael looked determined and focused. “You go, guys!” I shouted as we jogged
by. Denis was an avid outdoorsman and
had participated in numerous running events, climbed several mountains, and
hiked several trails in and around California.
It was clear that his passion and drive was having an impact on Michael.
My Dad never ran with me as a kid. He appreciated the strength, grit, and
determination that one must possess to run long distance but it wasn’t something
he was into himself. Neither one of my
parents were runners but they both had a zest for life and living. They weren’t the kind of parents who would
sit my sister and I down in front of the TV on the weekends or shower us with unnecessary
gifts so that we would leave them alone.
My Dad taught me how to ride a bike, played catch with me, played tennis
with me, and got the two of us involved in Indian Guides, a YMCA program that
consisted of year-round weekend group outdoor activities and camping trips with
other fathers and sons around my age. My
parents also owned a small sail boat, taking my sister and I sailing almost
every weekend during the summer. My mom
would also take us on camping trips and would often accompany my friends and I
on overnight snowboarding trips. I had
learned to ski from a family friend of ours in my early teens and crossed over
to snowboarding a couple of years after.
When I encountered setbacks and challenges as young kid, my parents
constantly encouraged me to not dwell on the problem, but solve it. “Shake it off” my Dad would always say and “Think
positive, not negative” my Mom would tell me. I Live by these life lessons, and
to this day, it is the best advice I have ever gotten from anyone in my life. Every summer my Dad would go on an overnight
sailing trip with his friends from Lake St. Clair near Detroit up through the
St. Clair River, continuing into Lake Huron all the way up to the town of
Presque Isle, Michigan for a boat delivery.
That weekend every summer, my dad would pack his bags and sailing
equipment leaving me intrigued and curious.
When I was thirteen, he invited me to join. I was thrilled and had an absolute
blast! I loved exploring areas of the lake
I hadn’t seen before and sailing up the river through Lake Huron. This was uncharted territory for me and it
forever changed my attitude towards sailing.
We were on the water together all day and all night enjoying the
peaceful surroundings. I relished the experience
so much that I joined my Dad and his friends on these trips every summer after
that until I moved to California in my mid-twenties. My favorite part of the trip was sailing at
night. We were in the middle of the lake
and the sky was often filled with shining stars. My dad and I would sit outside and have
meaningful conversations, tell dirty jokes, and talk about “guy stuff” while
enjoying the starlit sky, the lake calm and still except for the occasional
passing freighter. We would often catch
the sun rise together in the morning.
Seeing the sun firing vivid light across the lake was a gorgeous sight
and reminded me how awesome life was.
Before long, the sun would make its way into the sky, the other guys
would wake up and we would enjoy the rest of the day out on the lake.
Whenever I have a big race, event, hike, or snowboarding
trip coming up, I find my mind consumed with excitement during the days leading
up to such events, looking forward to nights under stars and days under the sun.
This is the same feeling of excitement
I had as a kid during the days leading up to the summer sailing trips with my
Dad, the weekend camping trips with the Indian Guides, and the snowboard trips
we took in Northern Michigan. My parents
planted a seed in my mind as a kid, watered that seed, and steadily it grew
into a strong appetite for excitement and adventure that lives with me today.
We crested the hill, running past some volunteers handing
out water and made our way down a gradual decline back towards the park where
the race started. Along the course I saw
several more kids that were out running with their parents and family members. This inspired me, knowing that a seed was
being planted in these kids minds by their parents just like my parents had
done for me. I had encountered similar
situations during hikes and other races.
One time when I was hiking in Yosemite, we were at the end of the trail
about to begin the climb up Half Dome when a father and his two sons came up behind
us. Chatting with them, we found out
that his sons were fourteen and eleven and it was their second time doing this
monster hike! In the six years that I’ve
ran the L.A. Marathon, I’ve seen thousands of students of all ages running the
race, some for the first time, others for the second or third time, all of them
displaying tremendous physical and mental strength to reach the finish line. It’s evident that someone in these kid’s lives,
whether it was their parents, mentors, family members, or whoever had planted
the adventure and excitement seed in their minds and it was taking root.
Brady and I soon crossed the finish line and met up with our
friends, high fiving and congratulating each other on finishing. We stood on the side of the street waiting
for the last runners in our group when a girl who looked to be about eight
appeared before us panting, drenched in sweat, bottle of water in hand. “Congratulations! You look awesome” we said to her. “Thanks!
I’m going to go wait for my mom now”.
“You beat your mom to the finish line?!” Taking a drink of water and
catching her breath, she smiled and said “yep!” and ran off. Denis and Michael had just crossed the finish
line moments earlier and Michael was now collecting his second 5-K finisher
medal. We all asked him how he felt and
he stood there smiling, medal around his neck, looking like 100% pure energy. “You’re going to be running marathons before
you know it!” I said.
It was a great race and very inspiring to see so many kids
out there running with their families and getting involved. These kids, from my perspective, are much
more vibrant and full of life than kids who stay inside all day and watch TV or
play video games. As they get older,
those qualities will only strengthen with age.
When I become a father, I will simply set the best example I can, hoping
that the seed of adventure and excitement will take root in my kids’ minds. Because once that seed takes root, there’s no
limit to how much it can grow if it is watered properly!
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