"He was not a runner, my father, but he was quick. I always remember it was very difficult to escape from him when he was angry. If he wanted to beat us he would always catch us. Even me, he could always catch me"

The words convey a vivid childhood memory shaped by the presence of an authoritative and active father. Haile Gebrselassie reflects not merely on physical speed or athletic prowess, but rather on the encompassing reach of his father’s authority and determination within the family. His father was not a trained runner or athlete, but when discipline was at stake, his movement became swift and unstoppable. The reference to running away from an angry parent will resonate with many readers who recall those childlike instincts of flight, of testing boundaries, of playful or genuine attempts to escape consequences.

Yet, the impression isn’t one of unfeeling brutality; the focus is on his father’s sheer relentlessness. No matter how fast or nimble the children tried to be, despite Haile himself eventually becoming one of the world’s greatest distance runners, his father would always catch him. It’s a humbling nod to family dynamics, to the hierarchies and realities of growing up, and to the power parents hold in the shaping of their children’s lives. The phrase also hints at the protective, ever-present nature of a father. He is someone who, fueled by emotion, anger in this case, channels unexpected energy and determination.

Further, the lines speak to the universal experience of children feeling both exasperated and awed by their parents’ abilities, perhaps in ways they only later fully appreciate. It is a memory marked by fear, respect, and a hint of admiration. The recollection infuses humor, humility, and cultural context, where corporal punishment may have been a common disciplinary tool, viewed with nuanced understanding. Ultimately, there’s a recognition that certain forces in life, embodied by his father, seemed unassailable in childhood, forming the backbone of formative lessons and memories. The writer’s remarkable achievements in running contrast poignantly with his inability, as a child, to outrun his father’s intent, encapsulating a universal relationship between youthful rebellion and parental authority.