Tuesday would have been my dad’s 78th birthday. He died 12 years ago, when I was only 25 years old. I had taken his presence in my life for granted. My dad would be around for a while, right? While I was young and naive in these thoughts, I was old enough to recognize the enormity of the almost suffocating loss his death would bring to my life. To say that he would have enjoyed being a part of the running and triathlon community is a gross understatement. An athlete in his younger years, he understood the dedication of working …