60 for Dad

As most of you know, I don't write on this blog very often. Please put aside your expectations of Meggan's fine writing, and share my Saturday with me. Friday, May 22 would have been my Dad's  60th birthday. My sister Karen wrote a beautiful blog that day, spent hours donating blood, and always shares lots on her blog. My Mom wrote us a nice note that day, and of course posted on Facebook. I did, too, but have been trying to figure out if I could do a bit more this year to remember Dad's spirit.

Saturday, June 1 was the 39th anniversary of my parents' marriage. That day I planned to run the Dirty Thirty 50km trail race in Golden Gate Canyon State Park near Golden, CO. I tentatively planned to add on an extra 10km sometime during the day, to make an even 60 in honor of Dad's 60th birthday. The race started at 6am (I was picked up by a friend at 3:50 to get there on time), so extra mileage beforehand wasn't an option. And afterwards, I was dropped off at our Hypnobabies birthing class with Meggs, so I couldn't squeeze in the miles during the afternoon. Fortunately, I was able to run the 10k that evening while Meggs helped Rachel get ready for bed. I think Rachel was a bit confused about the fact that Daddy had a race this morning and is now going for a run again!

The race itself was great, and one of my best ever in terms of pacing and fueling. I started nice and slowly, and chatted with a bunch of friends during the race. The race went according to plan; I was excited to feel strong for the final 1200' climb over three miles, and then flew down the last few miles to the finish. I was not passed after the 17-mile mark, and passed a number of runners during the last half-marathon. Afterwards we had a great time hanging out in the sun, catching up with friends, and listening to the live band.

In most of my races since Dad died, I have experienced at least one emotional stretch where I thought about him, got all teary, and couldn't see the trail clearly. Interestingly, this was the first race where that didn't happen. Maybe that's why the evening 10k seemed like an easy 59-minute sunset jog, after being out for 6:48:54 earlier.

Thanks, Dad, for being great. We love you!

(So I was going to end the blog here, but...)

I have to add that Rachel has been having a lot of very emotionally advanced conversations about death recently. This spring Pops' dog Max died, and my Dad's death comes up from time to time in conversation, especially in the last few weeks. If I am sad, one of her questions to me is often, "Do you want a hug from your Daddy?" or "Do you want to give Grandpa Ray a hug?" Despite being an emotionally difficult question, this always elicits a smile from me. My daughter is great.