Always set the pace first, that’s what my dad would say. It is 5am on a cold February morning. He is in running pants and a sweatshirt, I’m in 6 layers of clothing, trying to trick the cold into skipping over me and sinking into someone else’s skin. We leave the house, walk the first hill. I am shaking my hands by my side, puffing rings of frozen air out of my lungs. My dad is laughing, telling me to keep up. What I remember most that morning before school, when my dad