This morning when Katie and I went out to do her business I noticed this.

It looked like my husband had spilled a bit of peat while he was planting trees yesterday.  I didn’t think much about it.  But it isn’t peat.  Can you think what else it might be?  Does a closer picture give you a better idea?

I didn’t think so.  I’d need a close up lens on my little point and shoot camera for you to really see what this is.

It’s tiny tiny tiny red ants!  I don’t know what they’re doing, but they seem intent on doing it together.

After Katie finished doing her business I went out for a 4 mile run/walk.  I’m working back from an injury that occurred almost two years ago.  It’s hard.

My rules for this run/walk were simple.  Run a minute, walk a minute.  I allowed myself to run longer than a minute if I felt good, but never less than a minute.  And walks were never ever longer than a minute.  Those of you that have done sits and downs in dog obedience know how long a minute can be.  I have it from a very authoritative source (me) that 38 seconds feels like a minute.  I glanced at my watch at least once every minute for 54 minutes during the run…and often the first glance showed that only 38 seconds had gone by when I thought for sure it had been at least a minute!

Aside from the normal red winged black birds that circled my head when I ran through the swamp I also got to see a swimming muskrat, and munching young groundhog, a couple of chipmunks scurrying across the road, a giant crow jeering (ahem..cheering) me on and a myriad of other birds flitting across the road in front of me.

The morning was misty, cooler than it’s been, gray skies.  Just a touch of rain falling gently on the back of my neck.  So peaceful.  Except for my labored breathing.  Four miles seemed longer than it did years ago.  During mile 3 I began to realize that most of my energy was being expounded moving me up and down rather than efficiently moving me forward.  I tried to lengthen my stride, an attempt to get home sooner rather than never.  But as a car approached and I began to move off the white line of pavement that I’d been running on I realized it was taking me five steps just to get both feet on the shoulder.  Obviously my stride hadn’t lengthened at all!  LOL

Turning into my subdivision, 3/10 of a mile to go to my driveway, I was relieved but also hot and smelly.  My right knee was beginning to twinge, and I was pretty sure I had a blister on my left little toe.   But the mist was cool on my face, and I knew I was going to reach my goal.  Eventually.  I ran the last three minutes home, because it was downhill.

And because I could.