Fathers day, windermere and orange tshirts.

I’ve had some great feedback following my last post which is great, firstly because it means other people are actually reading this blog and secondly, and more importantly, more people are being exposed to our charities. If you were kind enough to read my last blog you will probably have noticed a sense of pride in my dads achievements in the forces. With today being fathers day I figured it would be the ideal time to expand on this.

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I was born in the coastal town of Hartlepool, both parents were 17 years old and the opportunities for a bright future weren’t exactly overflowing. When I was 3 my dad signed on the dotted line and became a soldier, he also bought me an army teddy called Frank (more on that later), from then on I grew up believing my dad was a hero. Everyday he went out in the uniform and did whatever soldiers do (probably ironing and polishing his boots), whatever it was I knew it was a special job.

beck

I remember once when having a “hero” as a dad wasn’t so cool. It was the middle of the Bosnian conflict (ok it probably wasn’t his idea) to help other boys and girls have a good Christmas (I think there was more to his deployment than that). I was devastated and did what any self respecting child would do, I chucked my trusty Frank at my dad telling him he “might as well give Frank to those kids too, and demonstrated exactly what a good sulk was. Not my proudest moment. Looking back though I’m immensely proud that of everything he achieved and grateful to him, and my mam for supporting him and running the family unit, for making the difficult decision to leave the town they grew up knowing and embark on a journey into the unknown.

dad

Well that’s enough of a trip down memory lane , back to this week and training. I spent last weekend supporting my wife and mother inlaw as they took part in the great North Swim. This was my first experience of this event and it was so well organised and supported I’m confident it won’t be my last. After a tough week training I really needed a relaxing weekend, camping was not what the doctor ordered. Being stubborn I ignored my achey, tired body and went on a short but hilly run which just left me frustrated at the slow km averages and heavy legs. This has had a knock on effect for the whole week with my training never really getting back up to where I have been.

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Looking at the positives though I’m going to be having a “recovery/taper” week as I am one week out from my first “the suffering race” experience. Since I’ve done one 5km already this year and I don’t like the colour orange (the colour of the 5km logo) I’ve signed up for the 10km (there goes that chimp again). I actually can’t wait although I’m slightly nervous given the increase in distance and it being my first event without my family running with me. This also marks my first event on our fundraising journey culminating in the Rat Race dirty weekend next year.

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