If you can keep your head....

My father was a great man. You hear that kind of statement from bias offspring all the time. However, remove my bias and those who had contact with him have expressed this same notion, without hesitation or doubt. The confirmation that this brings swells your pride in the parent 10 fold. Of course you have idolized this man for decades, but you think it's only you, perhaps. You don't see the man that interacts with others whilst you aren't around. The father a child comes to know is the same man as others see, but you get a little deeper insight. A less vulnerable man, confident in unequivocally being himself around his children. Naturally, when anyone leaves their natural environs of home we put up barriers to ensure we are protected from the outside looking in to ourselves. When this occurs, one does not always get a full picture of a man. Thus, when a parent is continually described as a great man or woman over and above this fact, a child can simply marvel and fill with pride at how their father was seen by those foreign to them.

This was my father, who sadly passed away this Christmas holiday, long before I was ready for him to leave. He never failed to drive me forward in everything I was to do, as he, albeit from afar, continued to be my litmus test for every challenge presented to me. Competitive to the core, he ran along side me in two of my iron distances races in the last few years, spurring me on. He knew when nothing was needed to be said, yet that inherited competitive spirit shone through and forced him to express words of encouragement as he trotted by me on continual loops of Nice or Henley.

It's the knowing look that I will miss the most. The  ability to simply communicate via DNA inheritance. When he was very ill in the last days of his life this was exemplified. He simply looked at me from his bed, unable to verbalize what he wanted to say, using simply a thumbs up and a look that said "everything will be ok". That's all I needed to know that, despite the great sadness I felt, everything would be ok. I even saw him saying "if you can keep your head...." a line from my favorite poem recited to me continually by dad and by his father to him. It's the words I have on all my water bottles when I race. Some smile wrily when they inquire as to what is written when I'm setting up my transition. However, the look he gave me that day, a mixture of reassurance, encouragement and fatigue, will always flash at me now, whenever I find myself in a challenging situation, be it in the water, on the bike, out on the run or walking through my life. That look and poem will be there helping me forward.

The sadness will slowly subside, but the drive to achieve his lofty life standards will drive me until my day comes. Of that I am sure. For that I will be eternally grateful. A great inheritance to bestow on me. I hope I live up to it.

Perhaps during an iron distance race this year I will find out.

Good luck to us all!