I eventually became a runner. I experienced the runners high, I ran for fun and I even entered a few races. My dad had continued to run off and on. In 1997 we decided to run a half marathon together. He had never run that distance and I had done a few marathons. Dad trained hard, I did not. I figured I would be able to match his pace and do just fine. I was wrong. I got my butt kicked in the last half mile. My dad beat me to the line of the Vancouver Half Marathon. He likes to kick hard at the end and has good sprint speed, plus I had supplied him with some jet fuel (aka GU). He hasn't let me forget it, he also hasn't done another race with me. I have not had the opportunity to even the score.
My mom took up running five years ago. Mom was always fit and could walk forever but had not done any running as an adult. She is a natural runner and loves doing it. This weekend, my parents did a 10km run. Mom trained for it and dad did not (you think he would have learned from my mistakes). He hasn't been running much the last few years as he has had a few injuries. Sunday mom chicked dad and beat him to the line. Dad turned on his afterburners and sprinted at the finish but he tripped and fell and is now sporting a couple of black eyes and a torn hamstring. I guess when mom tells people she beat him on Sunday, she should clarify that statement. I know it wasn't me, but at least one female in the family has beaten the lifelong runner. Now, just make sure you never enter the same race as dad again mom. Oh, and when dad is mended and back to running, remember to pick up the pace over the last few miles to take something out of that kick he has!
Mom, Dad and me on a run