Hubby and I are cut from the same cloth. We like to be up and out early. When I was a child, living in Ohio, I wanted to be the first one out the door after a snowfall to see my prints where I ran around the front yard. As my playing “snow tag” with my sisters, eventually grew into a love for running, I wanted to be first at putting my prints in the snow and mud down the dirt road where we lived. I became more competitive and then wanted to be first woman back at the gym as our “jogging class” made our route around campus. In races I was only first overall in a couple of small 10ks and mountain runs longer than a marathon, where virtually a handful of women were showing up. But those firsts felt good never-the-less.
Little did I know, that there was a boy, and then a man, who shared these same passions. Being first to break snow on the trail as he ran in Germany. Being first as he ran “All Army” races so that he was able to bring home a turkey for Thanksgiving. Racing cross-country in Europe with some of the world’s best runners, didn’t guarantee any “firsts”, but those opportunities made him a good runner.
We have both had our share of awards that say “first”-I have given most of mine away and so has he. We don’t like to display our trophies and medals in our house. I still get firsts as I choose my running races and triathlons carefully, but the firsts we continue to relish are those with each other.
Saturday we woke to overcast and chill but we decided to brave the weather and walk our six miles that we usually do. We end up in a wash where all the animal and people tracks had been covered over by the moving sand and debris with the rain the night before. I made the comment that it was nice that the ATV tracks had been covered up, and that we had been the first to walk in the wet sand, and jump over the flowing waters, that morning.
Sunday we rode “our” mountain bike route. It had snowed the day before and the mud we usually encounter had frozen over, making for a nice “crunch” as we rode. We both noticed the dainty deer tracks, thin ice on shallow puddles and the fact that there were no other mountain bike tracks on the trail.
It was nice, once again, to be first.