"What an adorable running partner," said the lady. "Aw, you're so nice to say so, but she's really only a 5," I said. "Thanks, I think so too," said the 5. "Ooooooh. She was talking to you," said the 10.
We ran 5 miles up and down the dooms. Then we ran through trees that grew right out of deep sand. Then we ran on the beach. And when we left the beach we ran through the grass, which only lives in deep, deep sand. Everywhere we ran it was sand, sand, sand! Have you ever run in sand before?
I understood why a runner would want a buddy if they couldn't smell their way around a marathong course, but I didn't understand why there weren't a ton of other people fighting over who got to visit Michigan.
It is a tradition for four-legged runners to wear face socks in the start and finish area. Mom says it's not nice to criticize other cultures, but I don't think it's nice to humiliate anyone or hold their mouths shut. How are you supposed to do fun things like bark, eat the chips that Mom is sharing for breakfast, or lick the legs of strangers when you're wearing a face sock? Everywhere I looked there were four-legged runners smooshing their faces on the ground or punching themselves in the nose trying to get the face socks off.