One Mile

"Come, on, just a little further and we are done!" I huff and puff as my son and I round the small path surrounding the golf course. We are in the home stretch of a quick morning run. My son, lumbering along, laboring with sweat pouring in his eyes is not a happy camper. He does not want to hear me preach about how it will be easier the more he runs, or how his body can take it. It is only day two of this running thing and we are focusing on the task at hand, making it to the end of this street. "You can do it, you can do it, we are almost there!" I shout to let him know I am by his side, and step by step we will finish. I cross the imaginary finish line and a split second later my son joins me. I hold up my hands for a double high-five which he slowly reciprocates, and we walk back to the house. "We just did a mile, how does it feel?" I quietly say. "Go-od, go-od" my son replies as his breathing begins to level out.

Tomorrow, day three. No far reaching goals, a day at a time, a mile at a time.