Confession: once we moved to Colorado, I’ve basically given up on running.
I don’t like this. I love the feeling of a good run. I like the feeling of accomplishment that comes with racking up the miles.
I’ve got a slew of excuses (it’s hot, my shower access is spotty, and the elevation was getting me at first) but really, I’ve just been kind of lazy.
During my impromptu trip to Tacoma last weekend, my six-year old nephew totally surprised me: “Aunty, can we go for a run? Like last time you were here with Sprocket?”
The kid is six…and he wanted to go for a run? With me?
Turns out, he wasn’t kidding. I leashed up the dog, handed him over to Drew and away we went, his short legs pumping hard. We ran, and then walked, and ran some more. We stopped to rest. And then ran, and walked, and ran. We did this all the way down to the dead end of the road and back–over a half mile.
As we ran up the steps into my mom’s house, Andrew looked at me proudly and said, “I’m so fast Aunty. I’m going to be able to run the Warrior Dash with you and Daddy.”
Oof. I’m going to have to get running, kid; thanks so much for the reminder of how fun running is.
But yeah, that day will come you are going to be able to run with us.