Albeit a crazy one. Some of my friends call your dad Captain Awesome, and it's not hard to see why.
He wakes up at 4:30 in the morning to do his 100-miler training. Short runs, he says. They're around 8 kilometers long. He comes back home in time to see you wake up. You somehow know that mornings are meant for playing with daddy. So you smile and let him pick you up. He changes you from your frogsuit pajamas and into your onesie. Changes your diaper too. You don't mind at all that mommy is still asleep.
Your daddy then dives into the morning rush traffic to clock in at 8:30am. By the afternoon, I'm sure he just couldn't wait to come home. And it's back onto the traffic to see you just after you've had your dinner. Before we had you, we'd have late meals. But now we're done eating by 7:30 just so he could have a little over an hour of play before you get cranky and sleepy.
He plays with you, makes silly voices to make your toys "talk" to you. He crawls on the floor with you. Concocts adventures with pillows and blankets for you. It amazes me how he can still manage to. While I stand already weary and I work at home.
On weekends he'll do his longer training runs. Up to 38 kilometers, I think (and I think on some days he has to do more). It's insane, isn't it? It's almost doing a self-imposed marathon. He makes it home late morning and you're already awake, playing or just come from your bath. And he'll still play with you before he goes to take a rest. You don't even care if he's sweaty and kick your little legs in the air, begging to be carried. Sometimes you even cry when he doesn't.
Then there are days when he doesn't get to rest at all (or barely). Because then he'll be helping mommy with her workshops. He'll carry the things, arrange the seats, take the photos and pack it all up again. Sometimes during the lessons he'll even remind mommy to teach or do things she'd otherwise forget. And after all that, he drives hurriedly home so we could play with you and cuddle with you (even if you don't really like cuddling).
He's super. And you're lucky. And I've got a feeling you'll be running around and doing amazing things, just like your daddy.