Day 3,955 —More Snow and Early Memories—

I wore my weighted vest. I am going to try to keep running with it from this point on. I don’t know if I will need to carry much for the 200-mile run, but part of me thinks I might want to after a while, just always to have access to things like Vaseline, snacks, and water. I don’t love carrying stuff, so I probably will run with my vest for a lot of the run.

         I was thinking of more stories from my past today, but they’re sad, and I don’t want anyone to think I am looking for anyone’s sympathy, or trying to blame my parents for anything. My childhood was complicated, like a lot of people, but I never went to bed hungry, and I always had a roof over my head. I also had parents who were invested in my life. I know so many people who had parents who weren’t there at all, but that wasn’t the case with my parents. Okay, okay, now onto an early memory that I have been reflecting on recently.

I was probably 8 or 9, and I was standing between both my parents as my father was shouting, “WHY CAN’T I FIND A BLACK SHARPIE!? HOW IS IT POSSIBLE THAT THERE ARE NO BLACK PERMANENT MARKERS IN THIS HOUSE! I KNOW I BOUGHT SOME RECENTLY. WHERE DID THEY GO?!”

My dad continued like this for a while as he aggressively opened drawers to find the marker he was looking for. My mom was on the floor crying. I don’t know if I said anything, but I think I did try to help my dad look for the marker. I don’t know where Mary and Ben were.

The next weekend, it was Father's Day, and I thought that I finally knew what to get my dad for Father's Day. I rode my bike to the store and bought him a two-pack of permanent markers.

I don’t remember what he said when he opened it, but I was disappointed he didn’t seem that happy. I remember saying, “Dad, look, I got you the markers you wanted.”

When you’re a kid, you think everything that happens to you is normal because you don’t have anything to compare it to, so I was 100 percent genuine when I gave him those markers. I was seriously concerned about the lack of permanent markers in my house.

My dad also took me to Judo every Saturday and routinely ran as I rode my bike next to him. I can recount numerous times when he has been there for me when no one else has. One time in particular, when I lost a 10-point lead in a wrestling match that ended my Junior season. He took me to White Castle and didn’t say a word. I will always be grateful for that.

People are complicated, and I love my family, but I also want to give myself permission to tell my story, and when I think about why, I have always felt compelled to help people get along. There is no one that I spent more time listening to and trying to help get along than my parents.