Jogging With My Doggy

I fancy a bit of jogging every now and then. I go with my dog Phryne Fisher (please don’t laugh at her name, she is rather sensitive). Phryne is a little bit slower then I am which often boosts my confidence. Sometimes when Phryne Fisher is annoying I leave her behind and go out on my own.

I power my way ahead thinking I am free to go as fast as I want because her tiny little legs aren’t trailing me. The first three hundred metres I display the finest of athleticism, I stride through the bush like a moose running from an overzealous hunter. After this short distance my heart begins to pump excessively, my stomach screams for rest and my legs begin to the feel like they’re treading through water.

I do not pace myself because I am one of the most impatient people in the world. Show me a red light and I’ll find you a different route, give me a chicken to cook and I’ll barely make it safe to eat. I like to do things in a hurry because I find the waiting time to be boring.

I have learnt from these little short cuts that they don’t tend to be short at all. When avoiding red lights I usually hit a traffic jam and when I don’t cook the chicken properly I often become sick which means I have to stay in bed doing nothing.

It’s a whole lot of rushing for a fairly dismal result.

When I take Phryne Fisher down the path, she smells the flowers and takes a dip in the creek, she ain’t wearing no stop watch.

Life shouldn’t be a competition because everyone’s journey is completely different. I just hope I don’t get to the end and realise I’ve been so busy that I’ve left something very important behind.