Runners on your mark, get set . . . and with that, my three children and I were off and running. It was Father’s Day, 2003. Earlier that morning, as I was leaving the house to meet my weekend running buddies, my wife, Merle, felt the need to remind me that it was Father’s Day and suggested I try to think of something special we could all do later that day. The reminder was needed, not because I didn’t know and appreciate the significance of the day, but because she knew I would rather deal with cramping hamstrings than the pressures of coming up with “special” gift ideas.

Driving home after my run, my thoughts returned to Father’s Day and that dreaded question, what to do? Suddenly, inspiration struck, and I called Merle. “Have the kids put on their gym shoes. When I get home, we’re going to the high school track and they’re going to race me in a mile. They don’t have to run hard or even finish, but here’s the deal: Not only are they going to race me in a mile today, but they’re going to race me every year on Father’s Day until one of them beats me.”

When I arrived home, the kids were all scrambling around looking for their shoes. Sara and Annie, then ages 12 and 9, were apparently willing to humor me. Sam, on the other hand, being a typical 6-year old boy, was already envisioning beating his dad and big sisters in a 1-mile race.

Merle selflessly volunteered to be the official race photographer. We lined up, she snapped some photos, and the race began! As Sara and Annie sprinted out ahead, I ran side-by-side with Sam – continually reminding him not to slap his feet so hard on the track – always with an eye on his sisters to make sure they didn’t get too far out ahead. Sam didn’t win, but he and his sisters felt good about their efforts and, amazingly, they were already talking about next year’s Father’s Day Mile!

And we did race again the next year, and the next. Each time it was an even more anticipated event for which we all trained . . . well, ‘trained’ may be a bit of an overstatement, but there was definitely a fair amount of practicing leading up to the big event. And the kids truly seemed to enjoy it, which, of course, left me with no choice but to make sure I continued to win!

Then in its fourth year, our tradition took on a whole new significance. A few months earlier, Annie, just before her 12th birthday, had been diagnosed with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. When Father’s Day arrived, she had already endured two surgeries and three rounds of chemotherapy. She was weak and frail and had lost her hair, but she was determined to run. So we went to the track . . . the same track that I had, early one morning just a few months before, circled alone, seemingly endlessly, occasionally sobbing as I contemplated the terrible news we had just received. I said to Sam, now age 9, “I know you fully expect to win this race, but you’re going to have to believe me when I say I can still beat you in a mile. Because this year I’m running with Annie, and even though you will finish ahead of us, you’re going to have to wait until next year for it to count.” The official photographer took photos . . . lots of photos . . . and we ran. I don’t need to tell you who the real winner was on that inspirational Sunday morning.

Father’s Day 2011 was a big year. We were all healthy. I had yet to be beaten. But, Sam (now 14), in his track meet just a couple months earlier, had run 1600 meters much faster than I could ever hope to run again. But fortunately for me, when 8th grade track season ends, 8th graders tend to stop running. So, while he played video games, I trained. After the first lap of our four-lap race, Sam and I were even. During lap 2, I started to pull away. With about 200 meters to go, I had a 30-meter lead and plenty of kick left, so when I started to hear that familiar foot pounding frantically closing in from behind I wasn’t worried. I just smiled and picked up the pace. As I lapped Sara and then Annie, each encouraged me to “go Dad, beat Sam!” But then, seconds later, their encouraging words changed to “you can catch him, Sam, run faster!!!” I had no doubt their conflicting emotions were totally genuine. But now the footsteps were getting closer . . . in a hurry. By the time I realized he might actually be able to catch me, it was too late for me to react. After years of confidently, if not accurately, predicting he would win our Father’s Day Mile, Sam had finally done just that, beating his dad by just a half step!

Notwithstanding Sam’s gutsy victory in 2011, the Father’s Day Mile continues. And I suspect we’ll be racing a mile on Father’s Day for as long as Dad - or, perhaps, someday Grandpa - is able. But, as nice as our family tradition is, what’s really important to me is that each of the kids truly enjoys running. Although I’ll never know for sure, it may well be that their then-undiscovered capacity to enjoy running was triggered by a single, spur-of-the-moment and, admittedly, crazy idea borne largely out of dread.

Well, Father’s Day will be here again soon. You know where I will be that morning, trying my hardest just to come in second. If you have children, or other family or friends, who you believe could enjoy running, I strongly recommend you start your own tradition - it may be just the thing to facilitate the discovery of that joy. If you would like to borrow mine, feel free - and maybe we’ll see you on the track!

Tim Coyle is an attorney in Cincinnati, Ohio. He and his children run and play together in nearby Mason. You can read more about the joys of running with children (including the unabridged version of Father’s Day Mile) on FathersDayMile.com.

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