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| A Family Event |
I
got up early to run. Simple slow little jaunt to the Boston
Commons. In the mid-morning the BAA 5K would begin. I signed my
family up for the race in January. It would be a nice little run for all of
them. When each of them finished they’d receive
a finisher’s medal. My Mom still runs well for her senior age and did a Personal Record (PR)
46min in August at the Elvis 5K. My wife took a running forms class and was getting
much more comfortable with running, skirting 50min in the 5K. My Dad was
a bit of a worry. He just finished a kidney stone procedure and his
advanced age was concerning. However, Dad wanted to give it a go.
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| Happy Couple before the Race |
I
finished my short run and retrieved my wife to meet up with my parents at
Boston Commons for the start. I told Mom that we really couldn’t start in
front and had to make our way to the slowest corral possible. It
took forever for our run to start. In fact the race was already won by
Ben True with an American Record Road Race 5K effort before we even got to
starting line.
I had told my family we should run
together to make sure we all made it together. However, once we crossed
the starting line, the Delasalas women had other plans.
Immediately, Grace took off on her
pace. I didn’t bother to catch her because my parents weren’t up to speed
yet. Heading out rounding Boylston & Arlington Street, my Mom revved up
her engine and took off leaving me alone with Dad. Dad, not to be out
done, picked up his pace and started to run.
He was rolling pretty well, and I
was very impressed. I’d ask him every other minute if he felt okay, and he
responded with a thumbs-up. Well, that is, until his wheels fell off at
mile .5. At ½ a mile into the race, pain started hitting his right
knee. We stopped for a moment for him to adjust his elastic knee
brace. He said it was alright and continued on. But it kept
bothering him and he readjusted at the ¾ mile mark. When we reached the
one mile marker, he stopped completely to rest.
I asked if he could make it. He said, “One step at a time.”
“Sure Dad,” I said, and had him put his arm over my shoulder.
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| Together |
Going down Commonwealth Avenue,
there’s a point where you see the other runners coming back and making their
turn to Hereford Street. It would be a perfect time to cut the course and
head back. It would be two more blocks for us to get to the CITGO sign
for our turnaround. I offered my Dad the opportunity to cut the course.
Without hesitation he emphatically proclaimed, “NO!” I’ve always been proud of my Dad.
But when he wanted to continue and not take the easy short cut, it galvanized
even more my sheer love for him as a man.
Inching closer to the CITGO sign and
the Kenmore Street turnaround, we had to go under the Massachusetts
underpass. I looked over my shoulder and saw a police car. I asked
Dad if he could continue and went to talk to the officer. I asked the
officer if there was a time limit. He said not really and asked if my Dad
wanted help back. I told him Dad wanted to keep going.
We rounded Kenmore and headed back
to the Commons. At this point, there were almost no other runners on the
course - just a blind man with a guide and what appeared to be a person on
crutches. We took our right on Hereford and left onto Boylston. On
Monday, I would be going down this path for my marathon finish.
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| Struggling but Always Fighting |
As we got to the 5K finish, people
gave us thumbs-ups, yells of encouragement, even a few applauses. There I
was: a man with his Dad, lifting him through a 5K.
We didn’t really talk much during
the race. I kept monitoring his status. He was holding up.
However, in the back of my mind, I was recalling a time in high school when he
lifted me up, when he never gave up on me even though I wanted to give up on
life. We went through that tough time together and he never wavered from
seeing me graduate. In fact, the moment my graduation ceremony was over,
I went against the stream of people to find him, cry on his shoulder, and say,
“We Did This!”
Today with this little 5K, in the
sport I love most, was the same kind of opportunity to show “We’re going to do
this!”
We passed under the Marathon Finish
structure, past the old church, back to the entrance of Boston Common. A
policeman gave us a little pathway separating the tourist blocking the
street. The stretch to the finish was empty. No one was there except
my Mom and Grace. I took Dad’s arm off my shoulder and told him to muster
enough to run ahead of me. I watched him cross at 1h04m32s then took my
few steps crossing at 1h04m34s. Twenty minutes earlier, my Mom finished
at blazing 42m05sec and Grace finished at respectable 46m37sec (both of them PR'd). I was officially beat by my
entire family.
It was the most rewarding last place in my life.
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| Dad Crosses First |
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| Crossing the Line |
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| Best Time Ever |
