My son wasn’t always athletically gifted, but he owes a lot to his grandfather. A man that’s not even his blood, spent years teaching him how to play football and how to keep going when your body tells you no.
Today he climbed the Santa Cruz Mountains via highway 9. He’s been practicing climbing at Alma Bridge Road on the far side of Lexington Reservoir. Downhills on San Jose Soquel Road. He’s starting to build up a pretty decent race history after only a single season of racing, and this will be his breakout season.
I’m not aware of another 13 year old doing this.
While his granddad Al Nolan has done a great job, I suppose there is no shortage of inspiration he got from me. He knows I had it rough growing up, with just a handful of people outside of my family believing in me.
Not to steer too far from his accomplishments, but I wonder where life might have taken me with different parents.
The good thing to come out of all of this though is my son is a good son. He’s smart. He’s loyal and leads his friends. He has confidence like a bear.
And he’ll be coming for what’s his someday. Even if he has to climb mountains to get it.