We Made It!

No, not to Kazakhstan. Not yet. (I’m still ignoring that looming reality.) This morning at 6:30, my dad and I walked in the driveway, with a 9-mile jog under our belts. That’s an hour earlier than I would have woken up on a typical day. My body would have much preferred the sleep to a grueling workout. It keeps reminding me of that each time I move, as I hobble around looking centuries older. Maybe there’s wisdom in a gradual mileage increase? Hey – at least I got to see a falling star and a sunrise, in addition to hearing an antelope. Ah – and how could I forget the friendly neighbors who restrain their barking dog, greet us, and ask how many miles we’re running? The wonders of rural Western Nebraska.