Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Emotional Little Dani

I guess I realized this last weekend that some things just don't really change.  When I was five my dad decided to take me up and teach me how to ski.  We rode up the Majestic lift there at Brighton and we took a couple runs going down with me skiing between his legs while he skiied backwards to help me.  While he was right there with me I felt like I could do it and I wouldn't go out of control.  After some times of doing this he told me that he was going to ski down a little bit, and then wait for me to come.  He said he would watch me the whole time and wouldn't go off without me.  Well it came time for me to try this on my own, and me being the emotional little five or six year old that I was (remember I said some things don't change) had a fit and dropped in the snow crying that I could never possibly ski down that hill, and that him leaving me there must be some form of child abuse! My dad must have been mortified listening to his crazy daughter throwing a fit while other skiiers passed by me.  Of course he was just trying to challenge me a little but because he knew I could do it.  I was just too silly to recognize the loving act he was showing me by taking me up to learn how to ski.
Unfortunately, there have been reruns of this episode all throughout growing up, when my dad has tried to teach me or challenge me with something he knew I could do. I can think of hikes that we have done, or in races he would cheer for me in high school where I have said some comment or thrown some sort of tantrum when things are hard. 
This last weekend I ran the Salt Lake Marathon.  I had trained really well, and without putting too much pressure on myself, wanted to get a PR, or at least a better time than my last marathon.  The first 18 miles I was on target to make this goal, but it was starting to get hard.  I had seen mom, Nate, grams and gramps, and they had all cheered me up, but I was starting to get tired.  Luckily, as I rounded the corner at 45th south and 500 east I saw dad there on his bike. I knew he was going to ride back and find me along the course and I was relieved to see him.  I thought he would just ride along side me for a little bit, but as his companionship seemed to help me I hoped he could stay the rest of the race.  I couldn't speak much to him, but it was good to listen.  I was tired and starting to slow down in my pace so I started to get a little testy inside.  After I passed mile 20 I started to feel this painful pulsing in my quad.  I told dad that I thought maybe it was a cramp. He told me to stop and he would rub it a little for me.  Well needless to say he then became my little first aid stopping every mile or two till the finish to encourage me, rub my quad, and help me keep going.  At one point he was telling me my pace from his GPS on his bike, and I knew I was going much slower.  I sort of snapped at him that I didn't care what my pace was and he didn't need to tell me.  Just like that little girl on the ski slope, I didn't realize that he was just trying to encourage me to do something I didn't think I could.  
I am grateful for such a loving supportive dad who helps me and cares even when I am still just his emotional little Dani. 

1 comment:

  1. What a great post, made me cry. You two have always been a great pair! How lucky I am to have you both!
    Love you
    Mom
    xxoo

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