I always loved my father’s stories about his glory days as a runner. He was tall and lanky, an ideal build for a distance runner. He ran in high school, and he was later recruited as a runner in college. That scholarship was his path to an engineering degree at a good school. He used to love to tell stories about his races. His favorite races were the ones he nearly lost, when he came from behind and sprinted past the leader for the win. For my Dad it was always the joy of the contest.I was just the worst runner. Just terrible.
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