A Good Run
July 1st, 2005I spent approximately 90 minutes running 8 miles this morning. It was warm and humid, and I found myself high-fiving leafy branches. The resulting droplets of water felt good on my face.
Somewhere around mile five I realized that the faint jangling sound behind me was not my keys after all. There was a black puppy following me.
I stopped my watch and turned around. He stopped, too. He stood with his front legs braced, head up, alert, ready to race off in any direction. We faced each other, trying to decide whether or not to play.
A moment of silence, and his decision was made. He sprang into the air, bounded around a stand of trees, and was lost to view.
I started my watch again and jogged on.