Faster than Running
Last week I had to be a grown-up. Again. Normally I can squeak by in what I lovingly refer to as “pseudo-grown-up” world. That’s where you are technically at a physical age in which you are considered a grown-up, but secretly you are still treating said activity/excursion/event in the same way a much younger version of yourself would. I live on the edge. But last week I had a realization. I would call it an epiphany, but I like to think those refer to something positive and this wasn’t. So I will call it a realization. Months ago, on a high from running the 4 mile Fleet Feet Run in Chapel Hill, I signed up for the 10 miler (at a steep discount, I might add!) KNOWING that if I could run 4 miles with a 10 month old, I could doubtless run 10 miles with a 22 month old! Because 22 months is much easier than 10, right? In my head she would already be a pretty independent being and say something along the lines of “You’re going to run a race, Mama? May I ma