Running with the boy.

I ran a smooth 5 miles on the boardwalk yesterday in right around 48 minutes. I haven't been running much, and it was great to get out in the evening and be pleasantly surprised with the ease in which 5 miles came and went... Bike? I may do that soon. Frank has a bike that I could ride and maybe I'll ask him to take me through the trail sometime soon. Swim? Well, the water is slowly warming up, so perhaps that will come soon.

In the meantime, I have to write, lest I forget:

A beautiful long awaited day arrived for me just last Saturday. My littlest boy ran 3.1 miles alongside me. And while I've run a few times already with Chris, I've been looking forward to the day that Ethan would trudge along with me. I envisioned this when he was three years old and running lap after lap around the front yard minimally affected. Over the years, I've tested him, bribing him to lap the soccer field while his brother plays. I promised $1 per lap which consequently emptied my wallet. I have challenged him to run up and down steep hills without stopping and he has done so without getting winded. We have run ahead of his brothers from the boardwalk to the house (1/4) mile many times and just last year he became fast enough to match my stride. He does not yet know what a gift he has. We do not yet know how he can best use this gift. What a proud 35 minutes I experienced running beside him. We walked a bit, upon his request, although he really did not need to. We talked the entire time. At no point was his breathing strained so that he could not speak to me. At the end of the race, he sprinted to the finish and told me it was a lot easier than he thought. Of course it was, Ethan. And this is only the beginning.

At various points during the run, I helped him imagine other places, other times when we ran. We imagined the beach and the boardwalk. We imagined the Susquehanna river that runs parallel to his great grandmother's house. We imagined the park. As we approached each mile marker (well really only the first two) we sped up to "conquer" them. Each time, Ethan sprinted to the sign and punched it, declaring his victory over the distance.

What a sweet sight to see my baby red faced, sweaty and determined. I savor that race and play it over and over like a movie in my mind. Someday, he might know how much this means to me.