The Little Fellow takes the lead

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The Little Fellow

takes the lead

The other day, a friend texted me after returning from a run with his 9-year-old son. I could almost hear the dad’s shortness of breath and see his smile in the electronic message.

I know it made me smile for it reminded me of a poem that hangs near my writing desk. It is titled, “A Little Fellow Follows Me,” author unknown, and seems especially worth sharing before Father’s Day. It begins:

A careful man I want to be, / A little fellow follows me; / I dare not to go astray, / For fear he’ll go the self-same way.

My Little Fellow then…

Growing up, my little fellow’s bedroom walls were plastered with posters of Olympic runners. As a second-grader he wrote a poem that also hangs in my office, titled: “I Am A Boy Who Loves To Run.”

That little boy grew up to be a six-foot-three young man who still loves to run. A former collegiate racer and more recently Boston Marathon finisher, he is far too fast for me to keep pace. But in my mind’s eye, I still see our side-by-side runs from long ago.

I cannot once escape his eyes, / Whatever he sees me do, he tries; / Like me he says he’s going to be, / The little chap who follows me.

We talked a lot on those runs together. He would tell me about his friends, about school, about his beloved Lakers. Often he made me laugh: “Was Gramps really a kid once?”

And: “Is Mom growing shorter?”

Me: “What?”

“Dad, I think she’s shrinking!”

…My Little Fellow now.

Me (suppressing a laugh): “No, I think you’re just growing taller.”

You can see why I loved running with The Little Fellow Who Follows Me, even when I had to go slower than I would have preferred in order to keep him from actually following me. Admittedly, I knew that would not last long. Indeed, like his shrinking mother, his dad was growing slower.

More than that, The Little Fellow was growing into a faster fellow.

He thinks that I am good and fine, / Believes in every word of mine; / The base in me he must not see, / The little chap who follows me.

I fondly remember one magical day 19 years ago – I know the date for it is in my running diary – when my 11-year-old Little Chap Who Follows Me and I went on a three-mile run together. Reaching the turnaround point, I was struggling not to be The Old Man Who Follows Him.

Shortly thereafter, sensing I had fallen slightly behind, he turned around and came back for me. I urged him to go on ahead, but he ignored every word of mine and ran alongside me at my pace the rest of the way. I had known this watershed day would arrive, but had thought it was further down the road of life.

I thought wrong. The future had arrived. A couple days later, midway up “The Long Monster Hill That Makes Your Legs Burn” – as he nicknamed this stretch of heartbreaking asphalt – I breathlessly insisted that The Little Fellow Who Follows Me go on ahead to the top. He flew off like Hermes.

I must remember as I go, / Through summer’s sun and winter’s snow; / I am building for the years to be / That little chap who follows me.

With summer’s sun setting, I crested the hill well after The Little Chap Who Follows Me. Seeing me, he waved and grinned a big toothy smile. Truth be told, I was even happier than he.

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …