Yo, ZJ! It’s race day!
I’m lying in bed watching the snow come down
but jump up quick
when I hear my daddy.
Yo, ZJ! It’s race day!
Throw on my track pants, sneaks and hoodie before I even
brush my teeth.
Used to be me in a jogging stroller, my daddy
pushing me all over Maplewood.
Then me on my scooter, trying to keep up with him.
But now we mostly run together.
And one day a year, we race!
It’s Sunday and this is the year I’ll beat him. I know it.
This is the year, I yell down the stairs to him. You ain’t ready!
Don’t say ain’t, my daddy yells back.
And I already am ready.
You the one up there still getting dressed.
I run down the stairs and he’s standing in the doorway,
bending over to touch his toes,
then stretching his arms up and over.
I stand behind him and do the same thing, bending
left with him
and right with him and
over and up with him.
The two of us, the way we’ve always done.
And then we run!
Down Valley to Baker Street, Baker to Ridgewood Road,
then Cypress with him only a little bit ahead of me and the air leaving my lungs, coming back in cold,
the snow turning to beads
on our faces, mixing in with the sweat.
I can hear my daddy’s own breath coming
hard as we turn at the golf course,
make our way back, and that’s when
I kick a sprint at him, take off
with the air stinging my cheeks,
my smile as wide as anything until I hear him
coming up behind me,
his size fourteen shoes crunching in the snow,
his laughter the soft sound
I’ve always known.
You thought you had me, he says between breaths, and then he’s gone,
kicking dusty snow up and yelling back over his shoulder
One day, ZJ.
But today is not that day!
I keep running, though, because the day feels regular
and regular feels cold and good.
I keep running fast and hard,
just a little bit behind him, already
thinking I’m gonna win this race
next year.