Heath In Training

The weekend went by entirely too fast. Fortunately, the rainy weather we woke up to moved on and we were able to get out for an excellent run. Yes. I did get to wear my lovely skirt, and yes, I do believe it made me just a bit faster.

Our new running routine includes letting Heath out of the baby jogger so he can run the last leg of our loop, which amounts to roughly 3/10 of a mile. We say Ready, Set, Go! and he's off like a shot. Mark yells, Go! Go! Go! Stella yells, Go! Go! Go! (or at least something that sounds an awful lot like go, go, go!). And that's exactly what he does, while we trot behind him.

His pace is steady. It's speedy. And it includes only three stops. Two stops are corners of the barely trafficked cul-de-sacked streets we cross over. He stops. He looks both ways. Shouts, No cars! Then digs in his feet, lifts up his knees, Zoom! He is off again. And his last stop is at a neighbor's tree across from our house. This is where he stops to relieve himself.

Usually we give him enough space to feel as though he is free as a bird, but we are actually close enough to prevent any sudden departure from safety, or a possible loss of sanity that may lead to Heath becoming a full-on flight-risk.

Today, he seemed particularly excited to be set free, so I felt it was only wise to stay close on his heels. Apparently, I was a little too close. Not long into his jaunt, he turned on his heels, held out his hands, and said, Mama, please. You need to get off my edge.

I slowed down, gave him some space, and cheered him on. All the way to the pee-tree.