Nearly every time I walk in the park, no matter what time it is, I see the same older lady.
I walk on, and the next time I see her, she's one or two benches further along. And since I see her every time I'm there, I can only guess that she does this every day.
She does it in feet at a time, slowly, leaning heavily on her walker, but she does it.
I was somewhere around 5.5 miles today when I hit the park; there she was, inching along. If ever there was inspiration to just keep plugging on, that was it. A seemingly fragile old woman, determined to walk around that park, no matter how long it takes, how much she needs the walker, how many reasons she probably has to just not do it.
So I kept walking. I was going at a pretty decent pace today, and held onto it almost the entire way.
I trimmed 20 minutes off my time from last week's 12 miles, so I'm a little stoked about that. My feet aren't quite as happy; I had to swap socks at 7.5 miles (eat the burger!) and slapped some moleskin on the balls of my feet, which helped a little, but by the time I hit the door it was like walking on slabs of pounded meat.
And I hate to think what I smell like right now.
C'mon, sit by me...you'll enjoy it ;)