I am one of those people who dedicate my long runs to my dad because I want to hear him tell me to keep moving. Oftentimes he lovingly speaks to me via F bombs.
It's been two weeks since my last race for the year. Instead of opting for the marathon distance, I thought out loud one week prior to the race: "Eh, I kinda did a lot this year and I'm mentally tired. Maybe the world won't hate me for dropping down to a half distance." After a bit of research, I swapped some gear out of my suitcase and prepared for my last 2019 adventure -- the Dallas Half Marathon. But before you think this is another race report, it isn't. Instead, this is an ode to one of the people who pushed me through my six years of running and in life, particularly this year: My dad. I'll put up a race report on another date.
Latoya Shauntay Snell
For my pretentious ass bio, check out the about me page but for anyone interested in who I really am, make me a good meal at your house and I'll tell you a dope ass story.
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