Today’s post was submitted by AdobeJuan; runner, dad, and design ninja.
It’s surprising to me that I now like Running so much. Growing up, Running and I knew each other, but we weren’t really close. Running was my older brother’s friend. I was just tagging along while my brother and Running did their thing. He was a cross-country star and Running gave him lots of medals and trophies. Running once gave me a “youngest finisher” trophy. I think Running kind of felt sorry for me.
Back then, my dad was also tight with Running. There were 4 plaques from various JFK marathons on the wall in the TV room. Dad kept a big jar of safety pins from all of his race bibs. On race days, I remember the sight of gaunt people stretching in gymnasiums and the overwhelming minty smell of Ben Gay. I recall how, for longer races, my dad used to put Vaseline on his chest so that his nipples wouldn’t bleed from the chafing. They would chafe anyway—it looked like he had been shot twice in the chest. I started to wonder if Running was a good influence on him.

