The family that runs together...

Yesterday after dinner, Zdenek and I settled in to watch (and fast forward) through the previously broadcast Boston Marathon. Boston is always one of the year's highlights, and yesterday's race proved to be an especially exciting one. (I was, however, a bit perturbed to see that the conditions were conducive to a blistering fast, record-setting pace, and thus couldn't have been more different from the day I ran Beantown. Maybe someday I'll have a return showing to try my luck again; given the new qualifying standards and procedures, though, I doubt it.)

Watching Ryan Hall give his post-race interview, I was, as always, awestruck by his positive attitude and accomplishments in the sport. And then I began daydreaming about how happy it would make me if Ryder becomes a serious runner (let alone a world-class one). When compared with other sports (e.g. swimming, hockey, baseball, cycling), running is convenient, cheap, and will likely keep you in good shape for the rest of your life. Indeed, I can point to a lot of fat ex-swimmers and ex-hockey players, but very few fat ex-competitive runners. This is due, I think, to the simple fact that running can be maintained without teams, coaches, and fancy facilities: once a runner, always a runner. And while I never want to be that parent, and Ryder will certainly have to find his own passions in life, I hope that I can nudge him in the running direction just a little. He might, after all, stand a chance at being semi-competitive: great endurance runners tend to be short (check), and have strong hearts (hopefully, check).

Happily, we're on our way to setting him on that course. Zdenek was cleared for running last week, and we enjoyed two "family runs" in Central Park over the weekend. It's great to have my husband back at my side, and also nice to have someone share the load when pushing Ryder in the Chariot. I look forward to the day when Ryder can cycle his little bike beside me on my morning run, and then, someday, run beside me (until he leaves me in the dust altogether). And even if he's never world-class, I hope that he, like his mom and dad, is able to find joy and good health in the simple ritual of putting one foot in front of the other.