When the going get tough, I like to think that my Grandfather is looking down from heaven, willing me to go on.
I think of him a lot.
He won a gold and bronze medal at the 1912 Olympic Games in Stockholm, Sweden.
I remember reading one of several, old articles my Grandma had clipped that said he was, at the time of that printing, probably the fastest miler in the country.
Old picture. I'm surprised it scanned this well. This is him winning his Bronze medal for the 400-meters. Even though I never knew him all that well, as I was very young, I miss him. And, Grandma.
So, go for a run people!