A Daddy First

On Tuesday night Mo and I went for our first father-son jog together. We put on our shoes, he made sure they were tight. He wore one of my running lights strapped to his arm and I a headlamp to guide our way.

Our course was a simple and straight quarter mile jog in the dark down to a stop sign and then come back. At first Mo charged ahead but my quiet, "Slow down" every few steps got us in perfect sync. His little sneakers slapping flat footed on the asphalt as he sped up and slowed down not sure how far we would go. We walked once each direction, just to catch our breaths. Constant encouragement was his motivation to run farther than he'd ever run before.

As we got within a few houses of our own, our Christmas lights created the perfect finish line. "Alright Mo, run your heart out and beat daddy home." He tucked his chin against his chest and pumped his little arms and slapped his almost boy sized shoes on the ground. It always seems his feet move faster than his body. He say's he beat me to the driveway, I told him a bug flew into my eye and I couldn't see who won. But notice how watery they are?

The red on his cheeks, the twinkle in his eyes, the absolute glee in his smile, proved a powerful spell on me. I have never been able to run with a smile on my face. Running is something I love more than almost anything and yet my energy is drawn to places other than the muscles that make my mouth curve up. I am glad Mo does not have that problem.

I gave him a big hug and another high five. I told him that running like that is what Dr. Jeff and daddy do when they practice triathlon. He reminded me I am still 'sick' so he would have to run with Dr. Jeff for me. Could I please call him and set that up.

There's treasure everywhere. There surely is.