This past Sunday morning, Dad and I drove over to Los Gatos to run in my first race. We loaded up the Ironman Bob stroller as well so that Dad could push me in his race. As soon as we arrived I realized I hadn’t eaten enough for breakfast to run a 1K “fun” run, so I proceeded to eat almost all my snacks while Dad registered me for the race. After eating a piece of sourdough break, a cheese stick, 2 packages of Nemo fruit snacks and a granola bar I was ready to race!!!
Dad pinned my race number on my shirt just before the race.
We wandered down to the starting line and I asked Dad to hold my hand for the beginning of the race because there were lots of kids and parents and I wanted to make sure I didn’t lose him in the crowd. They counted down 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…and we took off chasing everyone else. I was doing great for about 200 yards and then all those snacks started bouncing in my stomach. I asked Dad if he would carry me for a while. Dad seemed to be struggling carrying me all that way! Finally I got down and started running again. We had lot’s of people cheering along the way. Finally with 50yds to go I took off towards the finish line. There we lots of people cheering as I crossed the finish line and then someone handed me a ribbon for finishing the race.
After a quick drink of water, I relaxed in my “chariot” admiring my ribbon.
I didn’t have long to bask in my accomplishments before Dad and I took off for his race. I just enjoyed the scenery and snacked some more while Dad pushed me past lots of people. At one point he seemed to be struggling and I said words of encouragement “Don’t slow down Daddy!” Dad did pretty well, we finished 2nd overall in the baby jogger division.
Finally after we were done racing and Dad was done talking to all his friends we went over the the snack table and grabbed a bagel with cream cheese to take with us to the playground. Then we went over to the playground and I used up my remaining energy sliding and swinging and climbing before it was time to head home and take a nap. Dad decided he needed a nap as well after our big morning!
My race number and ribbon are now proudly on display in my bedroom!
Kevin
A Note from Dad: The day after the race, our triathlon club had a meeting and Kevin and I got a “father and son” award. Here is the recap from the club meeting:
“Awards:
Dave won the Peet’s Performance of the Month prize for his "father-son double" at the Jenny’s Light 5K. Dave paced his son Kevin through the Kid’s Race, then pushed him in the stroller division of 5K race. His time was fast enough for 4th in his age group (against guys without strollers) and earned him some free coffee!”
Here is a link to the results
My Dad taught me how to ski when I was 4 of 5. I loved it. I loved to go fast. I loved it when my Dad fell down so that I could faster. I don’t know when this picture was taken, but I’m pretty sure my Dad still wears those sunglasses and still has that crazy Russian hat.
Last weekend was time for the annual Fortunati family snow trip. There were 12 of us, all staying in a cabin near Strawberry, CA. Unfortunately, Dean’s family couldn’t make it this year, so his girls couldn’t join in the snow chaos.
When we arrived on Saturday morning, the roads were dry and the sun was out. Then the storm hit and we got several inches of snow – enough to sled on, ski on, and eat.
Kevin and his 5 year-old cousin Alec had a great time together. They played inside and out, jumped on beds, looked for spiders in the dark with flashlights, and consumed a lot of sugar. Alec must have made a thousand snow angels and Kevin must have eaten a gallon worth of snow (which, as it turns out, acted as a great cold compress for his fat lip he got while jumping on the couch).
Of course, we made a (scary looking) snowman. Does it remind you of Wilson in Cast Away?
Dave headed back to the bay area on Sunday afternoon to be in the courtroom for jury duty Monday morning. Kim, his girls, and I headed up to Dodge Ridge for a day of skiing on Monday. We got a ton of new, fresh powder on Sunday so the slopes were looking just about perfect. It was a warm sunny day and barely a person in sight.
My ski boots broke into about a dozen pieces as I walked from the car to the lodge, leaving a plastic breadcrumb trail behind. They had been stored in hot and cold temperatures for about 20 years. That gave us a good laugh before we headed out.
I enjoyed my day of skiing much more than I thought I would. It had probably been over 5 years since I last skied. While I’ve lost most of my nerve to go screaming fast and do crazy jumps, I loved the freedom of flying down the hill, not waiting for anybody. I felt like the luckiest person alive.
K-I-S-S-I-N-G. Okay, maybe not.
My friend Jennie came out to visit from North Carolina with her 2 year-old daughter Celia. It had been one year since we saw each other last, so the kids had sure changed.
Celia’s love language is touch. Kevin’s is…well, not touch. Celia wanted to hug Kevin and hold his hand. All Kevin could say is, “I don’t need to hold your hand!” How sad. Dave and I hope he becomes more charming with age.
We did lots of different activities. We spent one day at the Children’s Discovery Museum. Kevin and Celia made pretend pizzas, played in the water, and painted with their fingers. We spent several hours at a nearby park where Kevin and Celia competed in the local parcourse.
We had a make-your-own-pizza night and Jennie captured their hearts with books.
We spent a lot of time down at the tracks. Kevin corrupted angelic Celia by teaching her how to throw rocks in puddles. They had a great time and came home dirty, tired, and happy.
Finally, on the last day of Celia’s visit, Kevin asked to hold her hand. He doesn’t look happy about it in this picture, but he was concentrating really hard to do it just right. Can’t wait for the next visit!
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