Why I Run (Or How My Daughter Got Her New Kindle)

Back in the day when I could still outrace the nineteen-year-old.

As I turned the first corner on my afternoon jog I wondered why I was doing this. Pacing me, my thirteen-year-old daughter was exuberantly holding forth on some topic while my nineteen-year-old son loped a few steps ahead slowly pulling further and further away. I was having a hard time understanding what my daughter was talking about because trying to not fall down seemed more important at the time.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked myself silently.

“So I don’t get fat…fatter,” I replied.

“Right Dad?” my daughter touched my arm and looked at me.

“Sure honey, that sounds good.”

She smiled and easily kept pace with me. My son pulled another step ahead.

The truth is I run because it's better than doing sit-ups. I loathe sit-ups. Here is my list of exercises ranked from best to worst:

(3) walking with my wife at my pace

(7) running

(8) walking with my wife at her pace

(11) push-ups

(12) the gym

(13) playing basketball

(16) sit-ups

(Yes I am aware my list does not start at 1 and that there there are gaps in the numbering. When you make your own list you can do it “properly.” Mine reflects how I feel about exercise.)

“Five minutes.” said my run tracking app.

“Liar,” I swore under my breath.

My family thinks I run because have this fear of being fat. It is true that being introduced at various junior high social gatherings with “We call him Chunky” is not the best way to make a first impression on people. And by people I mean girls. A few years later I developed achalasia, an esophagus disorder that leads to rapid weight loss, so that point became moot.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked myself again, while the lizard part of my brain in charge of breathing began to motion for my attention.

In truth, the reason I run is that I love food. The raccoon from Over the Hedge has nothing on me. But I am not a foodie, I am an eater. Presentation and novelty are not as important as quantity and satisfaction in my opinion. Four sloppy carne asada tacos with a side of rice and beans beats a curried crayfish standing upright on a bed of quinoa with brussel sprout foam and slivers of something found in the wilds of Chile.

“Hey! You’re making me look bad” someone shouted from across the street.

I waved to the other old guy carrying two hand-weights running in the opposite direction.

“Do you know him?” asked my daughter who still was not even breathing heavily.

“Nope, he’s my running buddy. Never talked to him in my life.”

“That’s creepy.”

By now my son was four to five yards ahead and my daughter had fallen off her pace to deal with a stitch in her side. I was running in silence, my breathing under control. This was the runner’s high, where you feel like you can run all day. Nothing hurt, nothing strained. It never lasts.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m having ribs with grilled corn and onion rings for supper. Because I might make brownies. Because I like running! Because my wife still exercises. Because I like root beer and Pepsi and sugar in my coffee. Because…”

“15 minutes.” announced my phone.

“Shut the ……” I muttered back.

“Bye Dad!” yelled my daughter as she blew past me. I watched her as she effortlessly increased the space between us and gained on my son, now a small distant figure breaking into his final sprint. Stumbling to a halt a few minutes later, I turned off my stopwatch and put my hands on top of my head to help my breathing. My son yawned and needled his little sister about leaving dad behind. She gave back as good as she got.

“Tomorrow we go longer right?” I asked.

“Sure Dad, I’ll tell mom you said I could get a new Kindle.”

“Wait…what?”

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First published May 9, 2020 at https://medium.com/muddyum/why-i-run-or-how-my-daughter-got-her-new-kindle-ef59caa12c7b

Thanks to the Medium publication Muddyum for publishing this.