A Very Successful Little Run...With My Daughter

What constitutes a successful fun? There was a time when I looked forward to spring, not for the pollen-filled air that constantly tried to kill me with a thousand sneezes, but because it became a good time to go running. 

You'd not know it by looking at me now, but there was a time when I ran and ran a lot. I loved running and I was pretty good at it--not great, but good. And I had friends who enjoyed the sport as well. And back then, a successful run meant hitting it as hard as I could, pushing my body to run faster than I ever had before. I think if I did that now, in my current condition, I might not ever run again.

It's been a while since I ran. The last time was last Thanksgiving when I joined a couple of neighbors and we jogged around the town. Me and another guy more jogged/walked, while the women (who ran several times a week...) ran circles around us.

That's the thing about running. Even if you go out one day, you mentally think you can and should do it more, like the next day. The the next day comes and you don't. At least, that's been my story. But sometime last week I thought about going out and getting some exercise and I thought about inviting my daughter to go with me. 

Growing up I was skinny, and I mean skinny. I struggled to add weight, even in college. Apparently I no longer suffer from this condition. My kids are pretty thin, too, and I've always wondered if they'd be good, natural runners. I think my daughter might be. She did well in gymnastics back in the day, so I asked her if she wanted to go. I was happy she said, "yes."

Last night we set out. We ended up jogging for 3/4 of a mile and walking another 3/4 of a mile along a trail the city built years ago. It's a good trail; it's shared with bikers and, in some area, horses are allowed. Few were out last night--few humans, that is. The bugs, however, enjoyed much of the trail (maybe that's why there weren't more humans...). 

And, as you often do when you run with a partner, while we jogged and walked, we chatted about this and that, nothing heavy--kind of like the effort we put in. No, neither of us pushed it. We took it slow. Naturally, I want to go again and we will if we make it a priority. The best part of the whole thing is when my daughter said she wants to go again, too.

That, my friends, is a successful run.