On my drive home from work the other day, I saw a female jogger on the sidewalk. She had on some running shorts and a t-shirt...she was listening to her ipod as she ran. I have tremendous respect for anyone that can get out there and jog. I am not much of a runner. I can walk fast on my treadmill, but running....not so good.
As I came up behind her, and then went past her, I couldn't help but notice more about her. She looked to be in her mid-sixties. Her hair was salt and pepper. There was more. The woman was leaning way to the left. Her head was hanging down as though she were looking at the sidewalk...only not by choice. Her misshapen body made running difficult, but that didn't seem to matter. She ran. She ran and my heart went out to her. What an inspiration.
Each day when it's time for me to head downstairs to walk on the treadmill, I always pout a bit, complain a little bit and drag myself down the stairs. I don't think I'm going to do that anymore.
As I came up behind her, and then went past her, I couldn't help but notice more about her. She looked to be in her mid-sixties. Her hair was salt and pepper. There was more. The woman was leaning way to the left. Her head was hanging down as though she were looking at the sidewalk...only not by choice. Her misshapen body made running difficult, but that didn't seem to matter. She ran. She ran and my heart went out to her. What an inspiration.
Each day when it's time for me to head downstairs to walk on the treadmill, I always pout a bit, complain a little bit and drag myself down the stairs. I don't think I'm going to do that anymore.