Not Just a Medal

**Hi! This post is long and has a lot of detail about my life in the last few years.. But there is a point i'm trying to make that makes sense in the end, trust me**

In my room, hanging on a nail next to my closet is a picture of Baymax (from Big Hero 6) I drew when I went to Disneyland in May. (this isn't relevant).

Hanging in front of that picture is a 3 month old crumpled race number from July. On top of THAT is a medal from that same race, dangling freely. (this is very relevant)

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I want you guys to see something I noticed this morning that got me thinking.

Here is a picture of my dad and I when I was in 9th grade at a random school lunch:

And here is a picture from three months ago, after a triathlon my dad and I did together:

Notice any differences? (Other than that I got better hair and slightly less awkward?) I sure do. And it requires that you know the backstory..

Around the time of the first picture, everything for me was different than it is now. My parents were going through the stages of getting divorced, and I didn't really have perspective on anything In my life. I just played basketball with my friends and that's all I thought I needed..

Somewhere along the way during the divorce, I decided to grow a personal grudge against my dad. In my 14/15 year old eyes, everything was ruined. My life would be miserable blah blah (divorce stereotypes).. 

Because of this vendetta I held, I didn't realize that NOTHING had changed other than the fact that I didn't see my dad as much. I lived in the same house, had the same friends, went to the same school. 

For a couple years this anger just sat inside me. Divorce is hard, and people handle it differently, my way just happened to be destroying the relationship I had with my dad. Which sucked. 

The first picture above happened during the split. My dad came to visit with my friends and I at a random school lunch... and if I remember right, during this lunch I treated him like he was that kid who sat anywhere he could because he didn't know anyone.

This was just a microcosm of my life during that time. I was rude, I was petty and was always on edge. 

Over the years things started changing. I moved to Boise for my junior year of high school, where I ended up being that kid who sat anywhere he could because he didn't know anyone (what goes around comes around I guess)

Without any friends up there, I learned to love my family and now they're all my best friends. I slowly but surely learned that my dad wasn't a bad guy. He gave me work with him so I didn't have to find a "real" job there. He was always around if I needed anything. 

The extreme nature of the feelings I had dulled as time went on, and I started to realize how childish it was to hold on to the emotions I felt. And let me tell you, it was nice to get that baggage off of my back. 

The next few years (to now basically) I've just made sure to work on building that relationship however I could. 

At the end of July, my dad told me he was participating in a triathlon in Burley Idaho, and he asked if I would run for him after he swam and biked. 

Now let me tell you, I play basketball regularly, and run in the mornings before work often, but I'm FAR from a physical specimen. So when he asked me a week before if I would run 6.2 miles for him, I got nervous. 

Of course I said yes, because I'm way too competitive and confident in myself (in some areas), but I questioned how I would do. 

After two practice runs of that distance, I figured I was fine... I got to the race, camped out the night before with my dad and brothers, and ran the race. 

My performance aside, it was one of the best experiences I've had in a while. The time spent together was better than anything else.  

This race is where the second picture above comes from, after I had finished and we were trying to not pass out in the river behind us. 

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Trust me, there is a point I'm trying to make hidden in that long story. A lesson I didn't even realize that I had learned and ignored along the way.

Looking back on that time in my life where I was miserable, I always ask myself if it was worth it. If it was worth those two and a half years of built up sadness and anger.. And in a way, it was worth it because of what I saw along the way.

Life is WAY too short to mess around.

Thinking back on what I missed out on with my dad makes me sad. Those years I could have gotten even closer to him, when really I tore the relationship down.

Looking back at the two pictures I showed you above is when I noticed how much had changed. I wasn't bitter. I wasn't bothered around my dad.. I was happy just to be able to spend time with him, no matter what it was.

Don't miss any opportunities to live life to the fullest extent. Find what makes you happy and milk those things for all that they're worth. 

Let things go. Forgive and forget so that you don't miss chances that might not show up again. I'm blessed that I had the opportunity to mend my burned bridge, and got a second chance to have a real relationship with my dad.

Tell people how you feel! Put your nervousness and pride aside and let them know, no matter how big or small. If that girl you've known since high school gets a haircut, make sure she knows she looks gorgeous no matter if 1 or 20 other people told her the same thing. That random coworker who makes work a little easier every day? Make sure they know how grateful you are.

I'm not perfect, and I'm still learning to do this myself. It's scary! You never know what'll happen. But 99% of people won't be able to react negatively to a positive comment.

 

We've all heard it a million times, but life really is too short to wait for anything. Take leaps of faith, go out on a limb once in a while and who knows, maybe once in while stepping out of your comfort zone will get you things you didn't know you needed.

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In my room, in front of a Baymax drawing, there is a medal from a race I ran hanging by a crumpled up race number. 

I have to walk past this every single day to go out of my room, and I put it there on purpose. Every day when I leave my room I make sure to pat it (touch it, high five it, whatever) to remind myself of what it represents to me personally.

That's probably super cheesy, and I totally understand that.. But I look at the medal as a representation of what my dad and I accomplished. Everything we went through and how far we came together. (it's a lot longer than 6.2 miles I'll tell you that much)

I love my dad more than I could express. He's my hero, and he's been the biggest teacher I've had in my short life. I'm blessed that I have had the chance to grow up with him around, whether I wanted him there or not. I always had everything I needed and I could never show enough gratitude for that.

My relationship with him just shows that anything can happen. When you live life as full as can, miracles can happen. 

Things can change for you in an instant. It can be something as huge as finally telling that important person what they mean to you, or maybe just something as simple as a medal.