The animal in me

The other day after my race the Niff emailed my family and some friends about my "accomplishment" running in the mean streets of Haverhill. We got various responses but by far the best was from my dad:

hi
brings back memories of quincy.
when danny was young he would chase cars down the street all day long.
he'd come home and there'd be bits of hard black rubber in his teeth.
couldn't figure it out, until, one day, went around back of the house and tucked behind a clump of shrubs i found a giant pile of chrome bumpers all mangled up with teeth marks.
suddenly it all made sense,
why both ends of our street had dead end signs,
why houses that caught fire on our street were left to burn to the ground,
why the school buses stopped picking up the kids on the street,
why in winter we never once saw snow plows and the mailman had a cattle prod.
he's an animal alright, just don't let him near the pace car.
go danny go!
love
dad

I get my sense of humor from my dad mostly, probably because my mother is German and that kind of humor never really translated into my upbringing; but I got plenty of other things from her.

My dad has always been well read, and used to always write all sorts of stuff, and just the way this was written brought back a lot of good memories.

I guess it comes as no surprise that one of my running playlists has Three Days Grace's Animal I Have Become

So what if you can see the dark inside of me
No one will ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal

I have to unleash the beast again on sunday for 4 miles.