Following up to last post, Jack and I were set to run a race as individuals. A right of passage where we ran at our own pace for the first time.

But things didn’t exactly unfold as planned.

The morning of the race we somehow slept through our alarm and in our rush. I tried to have Jack follow our usual nutrition protocols, but he refused to eat. He told me that he drank a Red Bull and he’d be fine. He said he knows his body. I told him he needs carbohydrates, protein and hydration. We got to the race. I asked him to go to warm-up. He told me his warm-up was running from the car to get our bib. After getting a quick warm-up, I came back and said “Alright, how are you feeling?”, “Where’s your phone?”
He told me how he didn’t wanna be bothered with carrying his phone during the race so he left it in the car and refused to go get it. We started to form up with the field of runners to start the race. He said to me “I’m scared bro. I’m not that fast.”

As the countdown began, I could feel his fear creeping up. I knew there were a lot of safety crew and volunteers in this sanctioned race and we’ve ran this same course many times. but I wasn’t sure how he was gonna be able to handle it without proper preparations. As we took off, I could immediately feel myself restraining. Those words he said haunted me.

As much as I wanted to challenge myself, and let him push his limits, I didn’t feel he was quite ready. And I wasn’t sure I was either.
But I still wanted him to have the feeling of facing this challenge on his own. So I took off at an easy pace and let myself feel the rush of running along side people pushing their limits.

I decided quickly that I was gonna wait at the next aid station for him and watch him from a distance. When he got there, I popped out and surprised him.

From there, we had the most enjoyable race of all. His favorite. My favorite.

We were not the hare; we were the tortoise.

We took in grand views. Talked to other runners. I stopped for an unofficial hydration station and had a few sips of beer. He had some energy chews.

We sat and talked. We hiked. And eventually made our way down to the bottom. I wanted to at least get there for the awards ceremony and raffle, so I pushed him towards the end to make it in time for the festivities, and we slid in with a few minutes to spare, separately. Cause I wasn’t gonna miss it, and I knew he was fine at that point.

As they announced through the various awards, they got to the part where the race founder talked about the Lexie award—the unofficial MVP of the race. I was surprised and humbled when he started to talk about a father and son duo.

Somehow, we found ourselves on the podium, together, afterall.