Eight years ago today my life changed. No more living for myself. On that day I watched my son's eyes open for the first time and I was overcome with the most emotion I'd ever experienced in my life. But, before I delve deeper into that amazing life changing moment I need to go back even further into my past.
This picture was taken the day that I graduated from my catholic grade school, St. Ambrose. In the picture you'll find a much heavier, younger me, my mom and my dad. It was a good day. My mom and dad got a divorce when I was three. But unlike some divorced couples, remained my "parents". What I mean by that is that unfortunately, sometimes children are dragged through the awfulness of marital divorce. My parents never used me as a tool to get back at one another, were always there for me when I need them and remained a united front when it came to all things concerning me. I can't thank them enough for that as I grew up. As I look at this picture it brings back so many good memories. It's one of my most favorite pictures of my family. I can still smell the flowers that were outside the church that night. Looking at it now, who would've thought that two years later my dad would be forever gone from my life.
On September 26, 1990 my dad lost his battle with lung cancer. It was the start of a very dark time in my life. It was bad enough to watch a vibrant man become a mere shell of himself over the course of nine months. But after he died I felt more loneliness than I thought possible. Along with feeling lost I was really angry too. I felt like I'd been cheated. My dad died right when I was starting to get to know him better. A time when I was trying to figure out the man that I was going to become.
Beyond my mother, nobody else knows about the letter that I discovered in my dad's desk when cleaning it out after his death. My dad was a police officer for 23 years. It was a classic "goodbye" letter that some in our profession choose to write to their children, spouses or family. My dad wasn't cut down by a murdering criminal. But at the time I remember not seeing much difference between a criminal and cancer. I read the letter, cried and then proceeded to rip it up into as many small pieces as I could. I was only 16.
Looking back I remember only snippets of the letter. "Take care of your mother. She's a good woman." "I'm sorry this happened son." "I don't know why this happened." "I love you son." My father was one of the smartest men I knew. But the reason his death happened is no big mystery. When you drink every night to erase the horrors you see daily at your job and smoke more than a pack of cigarettes a day, it's amazing he survived to be 45.
Luckily, for a son who followed in his father's footsteps, the field of law enforcement has made great strides in the education and treatment of job related stress. Needless to say, never smoked a day and don't use alcohol as an almighty eraser.
Let's flash forward again, or should I say back...er...I'm getting confused, to eight years ago.
So, like I said those dang cute little eyes opened, looked up at me and WHAM, it was like I was born again! You want to experience joy, fear, terror and love all in a single event? Have a baby! Now I had one hell of a reason to make all the right choices in my life.
After managing to survive the dark depression that followed my dad's death I managed to put a healthy spin on it. I decided to get in shape when I started going to college. Back then I was more into weight lifting than running. But I can still remember my first runner's high after a three miler. Wish I could get that back after three miles! Finished college and with a little prodding from my girlfriend, who'd later become my wife, ran my first 5K road race. I finished in 25:21. Not bad for my first try. More races came, a marathon or two, a wedding and finally my son.
All of the sudden your time is not your own, your future is not your own and things you used to enjoy become history. After working so hard to get my fitness to where I had it when my son was born, I was a little scared of what would happen with him added into the equation. But if there's a will, there's a way!
Hands down, the best thing I ever got as a baby gift was my running stroller! My son was six weeks old when he ran for the first time with me! I can remember bundling him up so much before that run with winter clothing and blankets that you could barely see his little face! We rocked that stroller hard! I took him everywhere! We ran speed workouts, hill workouts, long distance, it didn't matter! If there was a road, we ran it! We even ran some races! Nothing is more satisfying than to pass a much fitter looking runner while pushing a running stroller!
It was a sad day when that stroller was retired. We used it up until he was about four. But, as he got older he liked to lean out and point at things which made the thing sway like a run away elephant. Just too dangerous on a busy road. We put it out on the side of the road next to our house. It was gone in 15 minutes! I'd taken very good care of it over the years. Lots of maintenance, lots of bells and whistles. I'd like to think another parent got some more good memories out of it like I did. I still miss those 20 milers with him. Damn, he will always be the best running partner I had.
Even though I was a full fledged runner now I still made time to cross-train with weights at my local YMCA. If you're interested in maintaining fitness and your sanity I highly recommend the Y. It's expensive but there's so many great family programs. They also have free two hour daycare while you exercise. They bottle feed, diaper change and were amazing with him. We're one of the longest standing families at ours. Every now and then someone will ask about how Ry's doing. So, we went all the time. We had it down to a science. He loved it and began to take an interest in running on the indoor track. Before I knew it we were going out every now and then for little runs together. I'm not sure if he liked the time with me or the running more. Either way, an unintended consequence of me maintaining my fitness was becoming a healthy role model for him.
After a little convincing, he even ran the kids races before some of my races. Little bugger was getting faster by the minute. He even managed to take third in his age group and win a prize at one of those races! He was so embarrassed walking up to get his prize. But when your mom and dad are screaming at the top of their lungs at you, you can't help but cringe. Poor kid.
Eight years old today and the story continues. By coincidence my son was born on the same day as my dad. Weird how things like that happen. But maybe it's no coincidence. I run for a lot of reasons. I run in honor of the father that I wish I could've gotten to know better. I run to have more than five years left in my lifetime. I run to make sure that the next time a bad guy tries to take me out that he's going to have to work at it and pay dearly for it. I run to be there for those I love in my life. I run to show people that a formerly obese child can become more athletic than they thought they ever could. I run because my body was designed to do this. But most of all, I run because Ry deserves to get to know his father and I deserve to get to know him. I want to be there for a lifetime. The ups, the downs, through the good times, through the bad. Hopefully someday he'll remember that old running stroller and all those incredible miles we ran together and maybe, just maybe, someday I'll look over as I toe the line on my whateverith marathon and see him next to me. Now that my friends is a good vision indeed! Happy birthday Ryan Matthew Sands! You inspire me to better than I was the day before, to never forget to have fun and to still enjoy the feeling of the wind whipping through my hair, my heart racing, my legs pumping. Love you...
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