My Father’s Genes Running On

Genes will tell….

I have run off and on –mainly off– since high school. I ran track and cross-country because my dad and brother did. I never threw my heart and soul in it, although I enjoyed it greatly. College -and the freedom that came with it- put a stop to my running. (I’d like to say it was the classes, but really it was the fun.)

A few years ago I discovered that running is one of the few things that actually convinces my body to lose weight. But, again, not enough to take it seriously.  I had been trying the “little as possible for the greatest results” exercise plan. I like exercise and I get cranky without my yoga, but I hadn’t found my niche.  And I like to eat, so as little as possible was still quite a bit.

Then my brother picked up running again, and I thought, why not? (There’s that competitive streak–and perhaps a bit of sibling rivalry.)  He has the same genes–in 2014 he did a Spartan run in August with his son. I am pretty sure I would still be trying to climb that rope….I am incredibly impressed that he did it: one day before his 46th birthday! This time,for me, the running is sticking. I guess I’m a late bloomer. I didn’t pick up football until my late thirties, but don’t bother me on a sunday in the fall! That was my husband’s doing, but my genes then kicked in. I watch more football now than my husband.

My dad loved sports, as his dad loved sports. He played sports in college, ran until being a farmer took the time, and watched all sports on tv. I have fond memories of watching the World Series with Dad (and I don’t like baseball), and  the Olympics were always watched in my parents’ house. And now mine. Dad would watch several games at once, when a commercial came on he would switch to the other game until a commercial came on and he would then check out the first. He watched college, professional, whatever was on.  Occasionally, being such a great fan,  he even watched through his eyelids. I myself have tried that technique, but somehow I always fall asleep and miss the good stuff.

When I told my mother that I had my first 5k coming, she thought that was great. Then pointed out that Dad did 10ks so I had a bit further to go. So, a goal for this year.

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