IMG_1025.JPGDinner with my dad when mom was at work is, for the most part, an unremembered thing. We ate food flavored food and I really don’t know what it was most of the time.  What I do remember and attribute to him is the meal anchored in one plate and Ritz crackers.

So – what you do is – take a whole roll of Ritz crackers (the long ones, not those rookie “stay fresh” rolls) and rummage around in the fridge and spread out on a plate everything that makes sense to put on a cracker.

Peanut butter

Deli Meat


Liver sausage



Then you sit down and eat it until you are done.

This isn’t that — but it sort of is.  In a new day and age, my son and I wander through our normal grocery store and try cheese “washed in Merlot” with oatcakes, we already have dates at home, they have that strange fruit and nut bread that you bake at home and tastes great with butter if you can get it cooked through and not  burned.  There is left over mince paste from dinner a few days ago that would match.  My dad would eat pretty much anything we put in front of him (a lifetime of smoking pretty much did away with a nuanced palate which worked to my advantage from time to time), but I doubt that he ran into any of these things naturally.  Still, the meal will be mainly sweet and cheesy – he would approve.

As part of the Dad Series of races this year, I was scheduled to run in Cincinnati this weekend but it then life happened and it made more sense to not go.  Still,  I was trained up for a half marathon and desperate to reset my training which has struggled in recent months.  The plus side of running a half marathon is the week before and the week after you basically don’t run much and you eat a lot.  So moving the “race” forward a week seemed like a good plan.

My husband and son “crewed” for me and cheered me on in 7 different places that morning.  I took 12 minutes of my October time.  I’m recovering right now with fancy cheese and bread.

This isn’t that – but it sort of is.  Both in my actions and my husband’s there was a moment of “well, expletive.” and then moving onto new plans and adaptations.  I didn’t run in a race that I assigned to the Dad Series specifically for the words “flying pig” but instead used what I had and did what I could and loved and was loved by my favorite guys.

I’m ok with that.