Every year over 50,000 people converge in downtown Spokane to run, jog, walk and meander through 12 kilometers of our city streets for an event unlike any other in the world. Bloomsday.
Every year I run this race. Every year I cross the finish line alone.
Until this year. This year I wanted to make it memorable. Running it was fun. But it's kind of anti-climactic to come around that last turn and see the balloons and families and know that you have nobody to celebrate with. Which is why I signed my Dad up for Christmas. This year would be different.
And if I was going to get him hooked on Bloomsday like I was, I was going to have to make it fun.
So I bought us matching rompers. Matching socks. Red bandanas. Gatorade. Energy gummies. Snickers bars. Protein shakes.
And he jumped into the silliness head first! Like daughter, like father right?
And he killed it.
We took our time, enjoyed the sights. High-fived the vulture at the top of Doomsday Hill. Took photos with the new Sheriff's helicopter. Made friends along the way. And we picked up our pace and ran across that finish line together. Fists in the air full of victory.
I held back tears as my heart burst with joy. My Dad taught me to be an independent woman. He taught me to be fearless in life which is why I've never allowed myself to miss out on an opportunity or event because I'm alone. But yesterday, my Dad taught me how amazing it feels to have somebody to celebrate those special moments with. And to never forget the importance of companionship.
I'm so proud to be able to share the memory of Bloomsday 2018 with my Dad.