People are always saying to me that Hazel is going to be a great runner. They see her running around the neighborhood with me, or trying to tag along on my warm-up jogs before races. And while I have no idea if she is going to be any good at running, she certainly seems enthusiastic about it now. A lot can change over 10 or 20 years, and the truth is, while I think it would be great if one day our running abilities crossed paths and we could do runs together, I just want her to be passionate about something when she grows up.
She could be crazy about banjos or fall in love with ice hockey. Maybe she finds ping pong is the perfect outlet for her frenetic energy. Whatever it is, I want her to find something that drives her, that pushes her to find those uncomfortable limits just beyond the edges of our abilities. I don’t want her to ever settle for good enough.
Of course the runner in me hopes she one day finds herself lacing up her spikes on a freezing cold, snow cover slope, preparing to battle the terrain, the weather, other runners and her own doubting inner-voice. I want her to be one of the mad ones, who for no explainable reason, loves to run.