My daddy ran a marathon...in the rain

By Kyle Small -





I woke up last Sunday morning to a missing father. I kept yelling to mommy that "daaaddddyy is gone" but she oddly looked at me as if she didn't understand my speech. Anyway, I came to find out that he was running a marathon (which is a big word that means "a long distance"). We went to watch daddy. At first I wondered if he was running away from home, and I thought mommy, grandma, papa and I were going to bring him back. But then he ran toward us, and when we saw him, mommy cheered him on and let him run right past us (see picture of me pointing as he leaves us). Come to find out, he was not running away from home nor was anyone chasing him, but daddy was running a race. Anyway, from start to finish he took 4.10.42 to run that marathon. Good job daddy. The world thinks you are crazy. (and you missed church).

Petra's daddy, Jeff, ran the marathon really fast - 3.55. Good job Jeff. You are even more crazy.

At the end of the race, the runners were cold and cranky. Everyone had a grimace and looked like the grumpy dwarf. Dad wasn't grumpy but delerious. WHen we found him at the finish, he was wearing aluminum foil and a fleece blanket, and he did not look good. For the next seven days he limped around the house, and he refused to carry me down the stairs - which meant that my pregnant mom had to do the work of carrying me...hmmm???

It was a wonderful day - the rain and cold did not break the spirits of the runners or the spectators. Everyone ended the day with beer, sandwiches and friends. What a day!

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