Dad.

It wasn't a date.

I had thought it would be,

But there was another girl there.

"He" didn't know,

Just stuck in an awkward place.

"No worries," I told myself

"Just have fun."

The Sweetheart 5k,

My first official race.

After a little bit of awkwardness,

And reassuring kindness

We were ready to go,

All three of us,

Ready to run 3.2 miles.

I turned my iPod to Kelly

And we were off at a steady pace.

"I'm doing it," I thought

And I pushed on, determinedly.

Almost a mile

"He" and "She" passed,

Left me in the dust,

Leaving me to run the Sweetheart

By myself.

"I'll catch up," I told myself,

But my side ached and I got slower.

Off they ran together.

"You belong with me-ee-ee,"

Taylor Swift taunted from my iPod.

I changed the song,

Kept running.

Past mile 2,

I needed a break.

Physically and emotionally drained,

I walked.

Quickly. But pathetically.

The rain washed over my face

As if daring me to cry.

I almost did,

But someone honked,

Dad.

He beamed encouragingly

And gave me a thumbs up.

I ran again,

Filled with a renewed strength,

Love.

Almost done,

I could feel the end getting close,

But how close?

Again, my legs turned to jello

And my breathing got tighter in my chest.

I wanted to turn down the street and run home,

Kind of.

I looked up ahead and smiled

Dad.

Waiting for me,

I ran faster.

He high-fived me as I passed,

"You're doing great! Keep going!"

I smiled and breathed in real deep.

Turning my head as I ran, I called back,

"Thanks. I love you."

He jumped back in the truck

And rode beside me,

Keeping my pace.

As I rounded the corner

He rolled down the window,

"You're almost there.

The end is close,

...Sprint!"

And with childlike trust

I sprinted.

I pushed to the finish.

I was done!

Did it feel good?

Honestly? I wanted to throw up,

But I was proud of myself!

I found "He" and "She"

Eating oranges

Holding there numbers:

80-somethings.

I took an orange

And began to munch on it.

Someone came up behind me

Hugged me,

Twirled me,

Dad.

"You did it!" he exclaimed proudly.

I showed him my number disappointedly

151.

He laughed. And I laughed.

He knew I could do better,

But he didn't care.

He loved me no matter what.

I keep running.

I still get exhausted.

I want to give-up,

And then there's a voice,

Heavenly Father.

"You can do it!"

"Keep going!"

You're almost there!"

"I love you!"

My strength is renewed

And I run again.

He doesn't care what number I come in

Or that I slowed down a couple of times,

He loves me no matter what.

I'll keep running.

I'll make it to the end,

Because of Him.

For Him.

Dad.