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Beyond Two Miles

I am still plodding along towards my goal of running the 5k (3.1 mile) Turkey Trot in November on Thanksgiving morning. At the end of June, I was feeling good and had worked my way up to two miles.

Then the summer heat and my inherent laziness dealt me a blow. The temperature repeatedly rose above 90 degrees and with high humidity, even at 0800, I lacked all energy to run very far. My runs shortened to a mile or a mile and a half. When I finished running, I would be dripping with sweat.

One morning, in a heat daze, I found myself walking along and it slowly dawned on me that I was no longer running. “When did I stop running?” I wondered, but had no answer. Thankfully, I arrived home safely. I drank a lot of water that day, for I recalled the dazed man I saw almost collapse within sight of the finish line at Dale’s last race. The man had no idea where he was or what he was doing. A kind bystander, who he almost collapsed on, helped him across the finish line and into an ambulance.

In my dazed state, I thought I could hear past drill instructors yelling at me from my memories, “Drink Water!”

Blaze wasn’t too keen on these summer runs either. At the end of each run, he would be panting heavily, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Trust me, this wasn’t a result of my rate of speed. To get back at me for this torture, Blaze would take an inconvenient nature break that forced me to carry a smelly bag as we plodded towards home.

During the summer, I was the one taking Blaze out of his kennel in the morning, so he couldn’t escape the leash that forced him to run. Now that school has started, Gabe feeds him and puts him out in the backyard first thing. The other morning when I opened the back door, leash in hand, ready for the run, Blaze high tailed it down the steps and under the porch before I could grab him. Not wanting to crawl under the porch to drag him out and not wanting to play “Catch me if you can!” (which I can’t), I just went running by myself. As I left, he sat at the gate and watched me go.

Last week, the oppressive heat finally broke and I began to consider reaching the two mile mark again. I set before Dale the task of finding me a two mile route. While it is true that Dale already has a two mile route starting at our house, plotted out for Josiah. It is also true that I don’t like that route, because it involves hills.

Be warned: If Dale has plotted out a route, it is best not to disparage it in any way.

I asked him to plot out my new route along a flat stretch of road in distances of 2 miles, 2 1/4 miles, 2 1/2 miles, 2 3/4 miles, 3 miles, and 3.1 miles. While Dale was attempting to do this, I interrupted him and asked him to do something else.

Be warned: This annoying habit of asking someone to do one thing and while they are in the middle of it, asking them to do another thing, is my best effort to drive family members, relatives, and friends crazy. When I do this to you, consider yourself one of the family.

Because of the second thing I asked Dale to do, he was never able to finish my new routes. However, he did tell me where exactly the one mile mark would be.

A few days later, I ran the route Dale originally plotted for Josiah.

Be warned: I do some things just out of spite.