When I was a little girl, I ran with my Daddy all the time. When he would put on his running shoes and running shorts, I would jump up, too, and off we would go, down Adrews Chapel Rd. Past the barn, up the hill, over the bridge to the split in the road and home again. Sometimes we would go a lot further but I know he probably just did that short little run with me because that is as far as I could make it. During our run, he would teach me the breathing techniques and how to always keep your hands loose to have a great run. We would also talk about all the simple things. At the end of the run, when we hit the barn, he would push me and yell "SPRINT, SPRINT!" At that point I would run as hard as my little legs would allow and I would sprint up the toughest hill on the run (or I guess it just seemed like it). He would time me to see how fast I ran.

The year I turned 12 years old was one of the most exciting years of my life.

This meant that all that training that Daddy had done with me, would prepare me for this year.

This was the year that I could apply to run in the "Peachtree Road Race" that took place every Fourth of July. You had to apply. Daddy would wait for the application to come out in the Atlanta Constitution. He would get as many newspapers as he needed for the family and clip out all of the applications, and send them in as fast as he could so we would have a spot in the race.

See, my Daddy had been running this race since 1979.....4 years before I was even born. That meant that in 1995 it would not only be his 16th year running this race but his daughter's first race. This year my anticipation would be to get up at 4:30a.m. with my brother and Daddy and head to Atlanta, GA to start the race around 7:30 or 8:00a.m. I would get to ride marta and recieve that sporty "Peachtree Road Race" t-shirt that they give when you finish the race. I would get to walk around the park and stash all of those power bars and Gatorade's that they gave our for FREE that I was always so jealous that my brother brought home.

THIS WAS A HUGE EVENT!!!!!!!

So after that year, I ran the race every year with my Daddy. At age 12, side by side my Daddy and I would start this race and side by side, until I was 20, we would finish this race.

You probably wonder what the point of this story is.... well today, I went running. I have been trying to get back into running for the past couple of weeks and it has been tremendously hard for me. And today while my feet were hitting the concrete, and I was pushing myself beyond words, I began to think about my Daddy. That became my motivation. I thought about how much I used to love running and actually used to be pretty good at it. I thought about how my Daddy loved running with a passion and loved that I loved running.

So here is to you Daddy! I am going to try my best for you to run and love running, again! Thank you for all of your motivation and all of the lessons you taught me while running.... simply about life!

I love you!