Girls and Dads on the Run

Shortly after school began, Kitty came home with a flyer for a program called Girls on the Run.  At the top of the flyer she had written in capital letters, "I WANT TO DO THIS."  I read through the flyer and was perplexed at her adamancy.  You see, Kitty has long complained about how much she despises running.  Girls on the Run teaches lessons about empowerment and confidence, all the while training for a 5k.

With flyer in hand I asked, "You understand this is a running program, right?" 

"I know," was her casual reply.  "I want to do it."

Well, who am I to disagree with a Kitty asking to train for a 5k?  I promptly registered her.

The big 5k event was scheduled for the day after my birthday.  About 3 weeks before the big race, I received an email that said every girl had to have a running buddy on race day.  Uh-oh.

I would have gladly been her buddy, but I was still on an exercise ban.  Jeffery the cat is skittish in crowds, so that left Big Papa.

Let me tell you about him. Michael is an optimist - he is a man who will always look for the good and rarely complains - the exact opposite of Booney.  However, there is one thing that I know will illicit complaint from that man every single time: the suggestion of running.  Michael hates running more than I hate Indian food.  That's an intense hatred.

Michael apparently has oddly-shaped feet.  This is his story.  His feet are flat and wide and immediately cramp in the arches if they hear the word 'run.'  He also suffers from shin splints and a general bad attitude about running.  You'd think a guy with calves that barely fit into pants would excel at running.  Not so much.

So there was Michael, caught in a conundrum of being his daughter's running partner, or sticking to his life-long contempt for running.  

Let's pretend he had a choice and he made the correct one by excitedly agreeing to be Kitty's running buddy.  Let's pretend that Booney didn't tell him he was doing it and to stop whining.  Let's pretend that he loved every minute of training and he never complained.  Let's pretend that he wasn't too sore to walk up the stairs.

But - despite his low spirits about his abilities, the ol'boy came through for his daughter.  Kitty was able to keep the conversation alive through their run and distracted her dad from his misery.  Thanks to her, Michael powered through the stomachache he had the morning of the race, powered through the arch cramps and shin splints, and he completed the race.  That's a father's love.

The best part was that it was cold the morning of the race with an Arctic wind that nearly froze my ears right off. I volunteered to direct runners to the finish line and it ended up being a crummy task.  I was freezing cold, I had to hold my arm straight out pointing to the finish line for 2 hours, and did I mention that I was freezing cold?  A hot bag of fries from Five Guys on the way home solved all of our woes.

Kitty said she had a good time but has decided she doesn't want to do Girls on the Run again.  

Her father is relieved.