Faster, Fastest
Last week I wasn’t feeling well, so my husband went running in the morning without me. When he got home he said he ran so fast that he had to run further than we usually do to make the run last the full twenty minutes. He was so happy to tell me that.
Today just when I was about to give up—running is still very hard for me—I took off like a cheetah and ran very fast for five full minutes. “This is the normal speed I run,” he said, running after me. “You better slow down before you overdo it.”
I kept on running, leaping over puddles like a gazelle. I can run too. I can run fast. I didn’t pass out until we got home.
