Slow Running

When I say I run, it is perhaps a slight exaggeration.  My plodding slowness, designed to gradually build up my endurance and my tolerance for the aches and pains of running, is only just barely "running."  The good thing about slow running is the opportunity to notice the world around me.  Here's a road I "ran" down in March (and walked back up on the return leg.)

At the time, I thought I was lost.  Consulting the photo I took of the trail map of our area, I realized I had made a wrong turn and was approaching a different village than I expected.  Okay, fine, I'll plod down to the next fence post, then turn around for my trip back up the hill towards home.

Hello, what's this?

 A field full of fuzziness!  Can you say, "adorable"?

But wait, there's more!

Squeeeeeeeee!  A baby, too!!!!  With a little coat on!!!!  Hi, baby!  You are the cutest!

Look how fuzzy.

We have a saying at our house, thanks to Tory.  "I want a llama!"  (The inflection while saying this line has to be just a teensy bit on the whiny side, but not enough to truly be a whine.)  The line is usually applied to rodents:  "I want a prairie dog!"  "I want a chinchilla!"  "I want a degu!"  We do, however, also love llamas, alpacas, and their relatives, so I was thrilled to see these darlings.

Plus, it gave me an excuse to slow my running even further. Always a good day when that happens.