I'm the father of two beautiful daughters and an amazing wife. For fun, I enjoy the long hours of seemingly endless suffering that endurance sports (mostly running, cycling and triathlon)provide. During my "down time" I'm an avid beer snob and self-described gourmet chef (in other words I like to burn things on a stove or grill).
Short post tonight. Around 8:15, my daughter Maya and I headed out for a night run. It was a beautiful summer evening (even if it isn't officially summer yet). Perfect night for running. Not too hot, not too cold. The kind of night I remember as a kid, when we'd be running about the neighborhood, not wanting to come inside until the last possible minute. Just before dark, we set out for a 3 mile run , stopping to walk every 4 or 5 minutes or so. Our pace was easy, and our steps were light. By the time we reached the turnaround point, the sky in the east was a deep, navy blue. To the west still, a pale blue that grew darker with every passing moment, like swimming to the bottom of a silent pool. The moon shone down in front of us and streaks of white clouds, high up in the sky, blocked its light at times. We continued running, walking occasionally, and talking the whole time. About running, and dreams, and the future. I told her about how I used to run at night when I was a kid, and the three mile loop I seemed to do throughout the summer. These things I've told her before, but great to be able to share with her again. Tonight as we walked through a dark patch between two streetlights, she reached out and grabbed hold of my hand for comfort. Almost eleven years old now. I know this time is fleeting. Perfect night for running.