There are some days when I'm heading out the door to run when Quin says, “mama, no running.” Those are days I hate having to leave. But most of the time as I leave Quin tells me, “Mama, run fast.”
If you stopped by our house about 7 on most nights, Quin is usually doing his nightly laps through the kitchen and living room. The other night, we must have done 40 laps, enough that I think I should count them into my weekly mileage. Though Jon jokes we should stick a golf club in his hand, I admit I am proud of my little runner.
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