My dad is really awesome. His name is Terry Holum but prefers the name T-Hol, to which we all oblige. I inherited a lot of great traits from him like my addiction to chocolate, excessive competitiveness, and an over all laid back sense of life and humor. I love my dad more than anything as he has supported me without fail in every aspect of my life, with the exception of when I once dyed my hair hot pink. Literally it was neon and I was 16, but we've moved on.
He taught me to play baseball, which turned out to be the first love of my life. Taught me to ride a bike. He had innovative ways of making me a better softball player such as teaching me to catch and judge fly balls by launching potatoes out of a "spud gun" in the backyard much to my mom's delight.
He taught me to fight my own battles, when I felt life was unfair, and let me challenge my teachers and coaches on my own. I thus survived AP calculus even though to this day I know Mrs. Wilson hated me and graded my tests on an extreme curve.
In college when softball for the first time in my life was challenging for me, he never let me show an ounce of wavering, and came to every game my freshmen year just to watch me sit on the bench. He told me to prove to the coaches why I should play everyday at practice and be the best cheerleader on the bench. I am not a cheerleader, and this one was tough to hear, but I played the next year and he was right.
When I faced a bout with cancer and had a softball worth of tissue removed from my inner thigh and had to be on crutches for 6 weeks, he made sure I had the top of the line ergonomic crutches that actually had shocks on them and I was able bounce around like "Tigger".
Since I began my career with lululemon I have realized that my dad's love reaches beyond a classroom or baseball diamond, it has surprisingly made its way to a yoga mat. My dad has worked in construction for the past 30 years, built our home from scratch, plays every sport known to man, will only drink Coors Light, which is referred to as "God's Brew" in our house, and is not exactly the portrait of a yogi. Think of Paul Bunyan practicing tree pose, and you can imagine my dad in his first yoga session. Nonetheless every Saturday morning you will find him and my mom tucked in the corner of our La Jolla store practicing yoga with the other guests in our community.
He now brags to the rest of his "God's Brew" drinking crew after slo-pitch softball games of his pain free joints thanks to yoga, which at most times he is met with a lot of laughter and banter. But he proudly shows them the inside of his Metal Vent Tech shirt that says "And make sure to drink a beer or two along the way", and he is right back in there with the studs at Hooley's Pub.
He has found a way to be a part of my life by exploring an area he would never even consider beforehand. He is a man who is comfortable in his ways, and hates the idea of the unknown and change. For him to practice yoga and to say the words "hey get me one of those mandukas so I can get into crow's pose" gives me goose-bumps and truly reminds me how lucky I am to have him as a father. From the softball diamond to the yoga mat, he has been there so hopefully he will be happy at father's day brunch with his new manduka mat instead of golf clubs this year. I am literally getting married in a week from Father's Day, and cannot think of a luckier girl to walk down the aisle on the arm of my daddy. Who by the way requested a yoga session the morning of the wedding to stay calm and centered…gotta love him.
Happy Father’s Day T-Hol, I love you! Namaste.
