The Deepest Part of My Running Heart--Running For Him

A little background info:  My dad died when I was a little girl.  He was killed in an excavation accident. He was working in a ditch when the dirt walls collapsed in on him. His body was cremated and his ashes were buried beneath our aspen tree by our home on a mountain in Dillon, Colorado. When he died, my brothers were 6 and 1 and I was 4.  I only have a few memories of him but I grew up dreaming of what he was like and I never stopped wishing that I knew him and feeling an emptiness in my heart without him.  I knew he was a dreamer, a risk taker, and a man that set out to make his life what he wanted it to be. He loved the mountains and he worked hard to build a life for us in the Colorado Rockies.  He was most alive in the mountains and being in nature.  I heard many stories about my dad but out of all the stories I heard, I heard of his love for running.  I knew that he loved to run and I knew that he had a gift to run.  My mom would tell me stories of how he dreamed of qualifying for the Olympics someday and how he'd go on his long runs religiously.  They were part of him and he needed them.  She would tell me stories of how my older brother would run after him and try to keep up when he was barely out of diapers.  And she told me stories about his determination to run even when he was told that he'd never walk again.  I wrote about more about this and my dad as a runner in my post Passion, Determination and The Will to Run.  

It was my junior year in college.  I can still remember feeling scared and overwhelmed about everything. I was scared of life.  I was stressed about school, money, running, tests, papers to write, needing to get all A's so I could keep my scholarships, and trying to work and still run and study.  I was scared of the unknown.  Scared that I had no clue where I would be when I was done with school.  I didn't have a clear enough plan to make me feel in control of my life.  Anxiety consumed me daily and I was often stressed and worried.  When I would get like this, my roommates and good friends knew what they needed to tell me.  "Go Run", they'd say.  And Run I would.  I'd run. And run. And Run away from it all.  Every step would wash away the worry.  Clear the air.  Help me to see clearly again.  


Now that I look back on those days, I'd like to believe that when I was the most scared or worried about life that my dad was there running with me and doing what a dad might do for his daughter if he was alive to do so.  It was as if running was my time with him.  


There is one night that I remember more clearly than most.  It must have been October of my junior year in college.  A cold night in Iowa.  It was one of those nights that I felt like life was too much.  One of those nights that my roommates nudged me out the door to run again in hopes that I'd come back to myself.  A few miles into my run and I found myself on an open road with open fields on either side of me.  The sky was dark but the moon was oh so bright and it led the way for me.  It was then that I knew that I wasn't alone.  To this day I know that my dad was running with me that night.  It was as if he was next to me and telling me all the things that I'd always wanted to hear from him but never could.  He told me that he was proud of me.  For my running.  For my hard work in school and life.  He told me that he loved me and had been there all along.  He'd been there to see me run.  To see me graduate high school with honors.  To see that I made it safely when I drove myself to college from Colorado to Iowa for the first time.  He was there all along when I thought that I was the only freshman college kid without my parents there to help me move and when I was so scared and felt so alone.  He told me that he was there and that he loved me and that I didn't need to worry.  I remember this night so clearly.  It is one of the most powerful and clear memories that I have.  And I remember how my worry rolled away that night.  With every step, every stride, my pace quickened, the moon grew bigger and brighter and I smiled through the tears.  I knew he was there and that he loved me.  


So often, I am asked about why I run.  I even ask myself this question.  Why do I run?  Why do I train?  Why do I want this so badly?  To reach my potential and push myself?  There are may reasons for this but one of the biggest reasons is because when I run, I feel connected to my dad.  I feel like in a small way, he is living on through me when I run.  I'm able to do something that he didn't get to finish for himself.  

Awhile ago I wrote a poem in memory of my dad.  I didn't share it with many people but I did send a copy to my Grandparents (my dad's parents), who were very dear to me. It will make more sense if you read the background information that I included at the beginning of this.  


The Earth His Home
The earth he cherished.
The mountains, 
     His nutrients.
The land, 
    His fuel.
Nature enriched his life,
     With it
He filled his soul.
Now he enriches the earth
Under that 
      Quivering aspen tree.


The earth fell down upon him.
      Robbing him of his breath. 
Leaving his soul to dance
      Above Mount Buffalo and 
his body to rest beneath the roots of 
      the tree that he planted for us to climb.
The small brick, painted,
       DAVID
placed at the foot of the white wood.
      That was was where my father lived.


A father I was too young to know
      But am engrained with his spirit.
His breath fills my lungs,
      His power is in my legs,
His strength in my will.


The soft steps of my feet and the 
      rhythm of my breath
      are a call to him.
Running gracefully under the open sky that is
      unusual in beauty
The road that stretches out to touch the end 
     It is a connection
He runs beside me and tells me 
    He is proud.


It is I that continues his vision--
     that holds the earth so dear.
The mountains, my inspiration
     his music fills me up.  
His dream carries me with its passion.


He lives among nature
      The sun cresting on the mountain
His soul dancing, wandering free over
      Lake Dillon.


Just as earth he so loved,
     so too, earth took him.
Now he enriches the earth 
Under that
      Quivering aspen tree.  
               
Amanda