The finish line is a place of pure exuberance for Chris Hoefer and his daughter Christina.

That place where the race ends and the celebration begins, it’s certainly the joy that comes with a completed journey. But for a daughter whose face lights up more the faster they move along the race path, and a father who lives for those expressions, it's so much more than that. 

The Longview technician has a history as an avid runner and cyclist. Then he got married and started a career. And then they had a daughter, who turns 30 this year. As time moved on, the running shoes began to collect dust in the closet. Chris turned his attention to caring for his daughter, who is disabled, and life carried on as it does for all of us.

But the yearning to get Christina outdoors, experiencing her life in the fullest way possible, never went away. His heart for showing his daughter a greater joy was full. Eventually, his mind, too, was made up: The two of them were lacing up and going running.

“I just always thought, she should be out there on the road with me, the wind in her face,” Chris said. “She doesn’t have to be stuck inside all the time. I wanted to get back in shape. I wanted to do things with my family, with my daughter.”

Christina, who has been given “labels over the years” but never been officially diagnosed, doesn’t walk or speak. She shows her emotions on her face, often through a big smile or a soft glow. Chris sees these expressions most frequently when they’re out for a run.

Focus on the Start

About seven years ago, Chris got hooked up with Ainsley’s Angels, an organization that aims to make endurance events accessible to everyone and build awareness about America’s special needs community. Chris purchased a pushchair for Christina to ride in, and the two set out, small distances at first. The impact on the legs and the pelvic floor are decidedly straining for the one pushing the chair. It takes time and training. 

With the help of Ainsley’s Angels, Chris and Christina entered their first race, the Fresh 15K in Tyler, in 2015.

“That first one was a nightmare, it was hard,” Chris laments.

The unanticipated mammoth hills on the course, paired with the extra 50 pounds of pushing his daughter, was enough for Chris to know more training was in store. But after a few short moments on that course that day, there was no turning back.

“Mainly, the reason I do any of this is I see the joy on her face as we move. She’ll even turn around and smile at me from time to time. That makes my day,” Chris says.

Since that first race, the duo has run the Fresh 15K multiple times, and completed a half marathon in Baton Rouge. A full marathon is in their future, and there's even plans to train for a triathlon later this year.

Focus on the Journey

Like any runner knows, getting started is the hardest part.

“Everyone has the same feeling. You get up, you start that first mile, and you say ‘this is going to suck today.’ You get about 9 miles in, and you’re thinking ‘why in the heck am I doing this?’ And then, at some point, you say to yourself, ‘this ain’t so bad.’”

In running, or cycling, at work, and in life, the journey is synonymous.

"You may not feel good. But you still do your job. It’s about getting up, going out there and finishing what you started. It’s a journey. You have to start, and you have to finish,” Chris says.

There’s also, for him at least, that person three or so feet ahead of him as they move along the roadways.

“When I start picking up, her facial expressions will start changing. She’ll start yelling out and hitting the chair, almost giggling. Then, she’ll turn around and look at you. It’s as if she’s saying ‘we’re going! We’re going!” Chris says.

Focus on the Finish

On Saturday morning long runs, or post-work training sessions, the finish line - the end of the next big race - is always in sight.

When Chris and Christina cross that line after a big race, there are spectators clapping, hugs exchanged and celebration ensued. Every time, Chris reflects on “finishing something I didn’t know we could finish, or something we would have ever done.”

And in a few words, he translates what his heart is saying on every run, with every step.

“This is her race. I’m just her legs.”