Sunday morning, I got up early and went for a run, finishing at Bongo Java. The plan was for Jude, J.P. and Joe to meet me there for breakfast. I also knew they needed a few minutes with me out of the house, so they could make a Hershey Bar Pie for me.
Anyway, I finished my 3 mile run and ordered a "Mood Elevator" at Bongo Java. After talking to a few of my friends that work there, I had a few minutes to relax, lost in my thoughts, as I waited for my family to join me. It was quiet and it was nice.
When Jude, J.P. and Joe walked in, it wasn't quiet at all, but it was still nice. At one point, as we were eating in the newly renovated front part of Bongo Java, I noticed E.J., my friend and the manager, staring at us. Smiling, he said, "I'm wondering how you and Jude managed to make two boys who look exactly alike." I laughed at the wonder of it all.
As we were finishing breakfast, J.P. leaned over and asked to whisper something in my ear. "Can we run home?" he asked. "Sure," I said. He was ecstatic. It's .6 of a mile from Bongo Java to our house and since J.P. has run around the block a few times with me before at the end of one my runs, I figured he would be fine. He kept asking me, over and over, "is it time to leave for our run, yet?" He was so excited to go for a "real run" with me that he couldn't stand it.
Finally, we walked outside, said goodbye to Jude and Joe, and started our run home. I activated the "Runkeeper" app on my iPhone so I could keep up with how far we had gone and how fast we were running. We ran at a nice 10 minute/mile pace, talking as we ran through Belmont's campus, down Caldwell Avenue, across 12th Avenue, by the fire station and Engine #8 and down Acklen Avenue to our house.
As we turned on to Elliott Avenue and approached our house, I noticed he wasn't very winded. "You want to run a mile?" I asked. J.P. looked at me, grinned, and said, simply, "yes!" "All right, let's do it," I replied. And we kept running around the block, down to Douglas Street, up Benton Avenue, down the alley behind our house and back up Elliott Avenue to the front of our house, where we stopped, tired but exhilarated.
The 1st mile!
It's difficult for me to put into words how much it meant to me to run a mile with J.P. No, to run J.P.'s 1st mile with him. Running is such an important part of my life. It's the essence of who I am, really. I can't describe why, really, but running is just what I do. It defines me, which is why it's so hard when I'm hurt or busy and can't or don't run as much as I used to or want to. What I am is a runner, first and foremost.
So, to share that part of me with my firstborn son, J.P., was a dream come true. I'm not exaggerating when I say that it was one of the highlights of my life. To be able to share a run with J.P., to share his 1st mile with him - well, it's a memory I'll cherish for the rest of my life. A snapshot moment, to be sure. Amazing.
What's really cool, though, is that when J.P. and I run, he talks my ear off. Often times, he's a little on the quite side. But not when we run. As we ran home from Bongo Java, he asked question after question. "When did you start running? How old were you when you ran for the first time? Who was the first person you ran with?" And on and on and on. Beautiful, really.
Part of being a parent, I think, is trying on a daily basis to find common ground with your child, things your can share. If J.P. loves running half as much as I do, we're going to have a lot to share.
Now, if I can just get Joe running . . . .
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