Mile marker 140 on the Central Lakes Trail to mile marker 145 and back again. Ten miles—add ‘em up.
Eat your heart out. I’ve still got it.
Ten miles. Took me three hours, but I did it.
Sixty-one years old. It wasn't pretty.I only took one break the whole time. At mile No. 7, a black dog wanted to be my best friend. I needed a friend about then, so I let it lick my hand and drool dog drool all over me.
I rule.
I may be old, but I can still walk ten miles.
2 to 4 a day--hah! Smashed that record.
I'm pooped.
5 comments:
You're a champ!
You're gonna need a new blog title now!
Sure, Mom.... Had to steal my 30th birthday thunder! I'm glad I could inspire you!)
S: Absolutely right--you WERE my inspiration. I figured if a punk kid of 30 could do it, it should be possible for me, too. As for the thunder part, well--if you'd seen me out on the trail, there wasn't much thunder involved. The pictures are pretty accurate, except I left my cane at home. Feel free to keep inspiring, pushing, and challenging me to get out of my rocking chair!
Way to go!
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