This is progress. At least she's running along with me in this picture and not stopped somewhere behind me, sniffing at deer tracks or looking to see who's catching up. I'm running again, if you can call it that. I imagine that it looks more like shuffling in a semi-upright position. I imagine that if you saw me you'd think, "That poor woman looks like she's in a lot of pain. Why doesn't she stop?" I can't stop. I read an article in my local paper about someone who started running when she was in her sixties and was now a champion at age 93. My husband says she's probably just the only one left alive in her age group. So that just means I have to outlast everyone else to win. I can do that.
