I've always enjoyed sharing my passions with my kids. Deep down I secretly hope that they also will gain an interest in them so that perhaps we could spend a lifetime doing them together.
The most prevalent example is hiking. All my kids have spent quality time with me on high mountain peaks, in rugged canyons, or just out poking around looking for petroglyphs. And yes, they've all been on runs with me.
With that in mind, I convinced Brittany to run a 5k race with me when she was eleven years old.
With her lanky legs and pent-up energy, I always felt Brittany had the potential to be a great runner. I did well at half-marathons and her mother came from a family of successful cross-country runners. It made sense in my mind that Brittany had all the genes to succeed.
She was a little hesitant, but I knew she could do it. I envisioned us training several times a week, gradually improving our speed each time. It would be a piece of cake!
But reality hit on our first run.
We started from our house for a jog around the neighborhood. Like any inexperienced runner, she didn't know how to pace herself. I struggled to keep up with her as she sprinted ahead, but after one block she couldn't go any further. Not only was she tired, but she was wheezing and gasping for air.
We walked for the next five minutes while I explained that she needed to pace herself. I let her catch her breath and we tried it again.
This time she didn't sprint, but once again she ran out of steam after one block. I remember being genuinely concerned because of her labored breathing, wondering if she had asthma. Perhaps my daughter didn't have the lung capacity I thought she had.
That first day we ran only one mile.
From that point forward she steadily improved, albeit rather slowly. She frequently complained of side-aches, nausea, not being able to breath, sore ankles etc. Little by little we increased the distance. It wasn't until the week before the race that she was able to run the full three miles without stopping, which she repeated one more time. We had come a long way from that first run!
I was stoked when race day came. It was the 5k for the Enoch City Fourth of July celebration. We woke up early and drove to the city park where we would gather at the starting line. I remember Brittany with that nervous look on her face. (Who isn't a little tense before beginning a race?)
The last time Brittany did a race was a kid's run at Blanding's Fourth of July. Within seconds after starting she somehow tripped and got trampled. She finished the 1-mile sprint, but with a scraped knee and lots of tears.
But I wouldn't let that happen here. I told her to watch her step and give herself plenty of room. And beside that, I would be at her side the entire race.
The starting gun fired and we were off!
It was pure adrenaline. She didn't look back and didn't stop. For three miles she kept a steady pace, passing several adults in the process. I was surprised at how well she was doing.
Although the super fast runners had left us in the dust, we kept up with the crowd and Brittany seemed to be ahead of most kids her age. “You're doing great, Brittany,” I would encourage her. “Keep it up!”
The final stretch turned slightly uphill toward the park along Jones Lane. “You're almost there, Britt. Pick it up! Push it!”
The crowd was there to cheer her on. They were yelling and clapping. The fighter in her clicked on and a determined demeanor fell over her face. She sprinted to the end with all the strength she could muster. Together we crossed the finish line. Jenelle was there to greet us. Brittany had done it!
She was so tired and tuckered out, but excited to be done. And I was one proud Daddy!
That race is one of the most cherished memories I have of Brittany. Now that she is gone, I am so grateful that I decided to run with her.
Brittany passed away two and a half years later in 2012. The following summer we decided to make some shirts to honor her for the Cedar City Half Marathon. Some of my family came over and they, with several of our friends, wore the shirt during the race. Jenelle designed the back of the shirt, a drawing of an angel with wings, which said: “Running in Memory of Brittany Lacy.”
Although it is difficult to think about anything during a half-marathon, I was mindful of her during much of the race, and it gave me an extra boost.
Over the years I have worn that same shirt to several races. During a marathon in Moab, a shirtless man passed me and said, “You're running with wings!” As he flew by I noticed his own angel tattooed on his back.
I've thought about Brittany a lot in the last six months. Due to a new health condition, I have been unable to run. Fatigue has plagued me and there is no doubt that if I were to run, I wouldn't make it a block before I would have to stop and gasp for air. Of course, every time I envision that scenario, I can't help but to fondly recall that first run with Brittany. ♥
