irony

I rocked the trail run, yes I did - 5k through woods and field and all-too-brief paved bike path. On my 55th birthday, 28:02, first in my age group.

And that was the start to my day. Breathlessly saying to the volunteers along the path, "I didn't know that this was a trail run! It's my 55th birthday!" Getting a "Good job!" from them as I continued on my way.

Determination. Telling myself that I ran a half-marathon two weeks ago (dammit) and if I could do that I could handle a nasty little 3.1 mile trail. At the finish line, asking the volunteer to open my water bottle. (I was spent.)

Later that day, I took a walk with my dad, his volition. A loop around the Health Center where he is regaining strength after hospitalization. On with the gait belt, "Becky" hand-written in marker. Clinging to his walker with 125-pound me hanging onto the gait belt, he began. Down the first (shortest) hallway and around the corner. Stop to rest. Continue.

Here came my husband toward us. I began to wonder why I was the one holding the gait belt. Let's face it, what could I do if my dad fell?

Around the next corner. Stop to rest.

With determination, he continued. Navigating around hall hazards, abandoned wheelchairs and such. I joked that it was preparing him for Nascar. Stop to rest.

Onto the home stretch and safe arrival at his room. He sank into his chair. He was spent.

Determination got me through the trail run. Determination got him through the hall circuit.

Dad rocked the hallway. Yes he did.

Irony.