Home is Where the Heart is

I was talking with my dad recently and I mentioned that he was one of the reasons I finally started running.  

There were really a few things that got me started.  The first was watching my friend Matt at work get involved (nay, immersed) in running.  I casually tossed out my tried and true, "I hate running.  Always have."  and he just nodded and said he understood.  Then he would occasionally mention things he was doing to gradually work in to running.  Run/walk combinations, even when he felt like he could just run.  Going into the run slowly so his body had a chance to get used to it.  Not running to exhaustion and pain so he wouldn't dread the next run . . .  All of these came as 'aha' moments to me.  Every time I had tried running in the past, I had gone out and  . . . ran.  Not sprinted, but a good fast jog until I couldn't do it anymore.  Then I'd stop.  And try it again the next day.  In my slightly too small running shoes that I got off of the clearance rack.  And I'd usually get shin splints, and I wouldn't increase as fast as I wanted (meaning at least a mile a day or some other such random stupid thought) and I'd quit, because 'I hate running.  Always have.  See, I even tried it again and still hate it.'  

So, I continued to listen to him, never preachy, never pushy, just sharing things he was doing . . . . and finally took a trip with him to Big Peach Running Company and got fitted for a pair of running shoes.  

It's a revelation when the saleswoman looks at you and says, 'you were running in THOSE?'  She put me on the pressure pad and showed me how high my arches were, and explained what that could mean with regards to how my foot strikes the ground.  Then she took a video of my stride on the treadmill, and showed me how it compared to a neutral stride.  Then she put me in shoes that made a difference.  So now, I've got the immediate boost of knowing I'm in the right shoes and Matt's given me the tools to start correctly.  Because I don't just like, I require, gadgets, I went out and got the Nike+ so I could track my runs from day to day.  Now I don't have to measure the distance beforehand, calculate my pace while I'm running, record it afterward; it's all done for me.  And all of a sudden, I'm running, and I'm enjoying it.  Life is good.  

So back to my dad.  One of the things that helped push me to actually start is memories of my dad running when I was younger.  I told him that I remembered my sister and I going to the track with him and he nodded fondly.  I remember going out running with him (one time) and it was fun just to watch him set off.  Another fond nod.  And I ultimately wanted to get to the point where I could run the Peachtree like he did, at least once . . . and he got a quizzical look on his face.  

Dad: "I never ran the Peachtree."

Me:  "Yes, you did; I remember at least twice!"

Dad: "Noooo.  I only ran one 5K race and that was it.  Remember that t-shirt with the heart on it?  That was the one."

Me:  "Really?  Huh.  Oh well, thinking you did got me running."