Winning The Human Race

(I am at a half marathon to watch my dad try and beat his PR of 2:25:27. It is around 2:35:00, and we still haven’t seen my dad. My older sister walks down the course to try and find him. She comes jogging back two or so minutes later.)

Sister: “I found him!”

Mom: “Where?”

Sister: “Just wait.”

(Sure enough, a few moments later I see my dad walking to the finish line supporting a woman in her mid-40s on his shoulder with the help of another man. The woman is wobbling and can barely support herself without their help. They cross the finish line at 2:43:02, where she receives immediate medical attention. We walk over to my dad.)

Me: “What happened?”

Dad: “Nothing really, she pretty much collapsed half a mile back. She said she’s a special needs teacher, and she was part of a group that was running for one of her students who was recently hospitalized, and she just wanted to finish for him.”

Mom: “Would you have beaten your record?”

Dad: “Oh, yeah. I was on track for two twenty-two, but that time wasn’t worth not letting her finish the race!”