A Daddy's Influence

As I was in bed, trying to fall asleep tonight (pre-PBJ), I heard the dogs barking and felt my stomach growling. I thought to myself: "why am I hungry? I ate dinner, I had lunch and snacked all afternoon." Then I remembered: I ran just before dinner. Running, or any exercise for that matter, always makes me extra hungry.

Why do I run? Who got me into running at an early age? None other than my dad. I always remember him coming home just after dark, all hot and tired from a nice run. When I was about 13, he started asking me to go run with him, or maybe I asked if I could join him. Either way, we started running. It became this "thing" that "Shelly and dad" did. It was our time. No one else, just us. Such sweet moments. To this day, I still run, more regularly now, but I attribute it to my daddy. He encouraged me, taught me good rules of running and showed me the best way to avoid a runners cramp. He would stop and walk with me when I got tired and encourage me: "You can make it, come on, let's go!" Then we would sip on cold water, sitting on the steps of 149 El Dorado, listening to the cars whiz by and enjoying a "runner's high."

Dad's may never realize the influence they can have over daughters. A simple word or act of love can do so much for a little girl. I do understand and know for a fact that this influence can sway to both sides: positive and negative. Some women may have never experienced what I am describing, so I consider myself blessed to have shared some amazing experiences and learned some life lessons with my dad. I have so many awesome memories with my daddy, he's my dad, the one God blessed me with.

As I sit here, eating two pieces of peanut and butter and jelly toast (trying to kill the "post-run" grumble in my stomach), I am reminded the many times in my later teenage years and during the times I visited home during college, dad and I ate a "midnight" snack around 10:30. After a while, it became a habit, and a ritual that I looked forward to. I sit here tonight, eating my toast, wishing that I had my dad here, or that I was there to share this moment with him. No one else shared this moment with us. Something about the both of us, we just got hungry for a snack around this time of night, or maybe it turned into a habit of "quality time" with hunger as an excuse to simply get 10 minutes of each others day. I will always think of him and remember him each time I make PBJ toast (two pieces) for a late night snack.

Now that the dogs have stopped barking and my stomach has stopped growling, maybe I can fall asleep......