We burst through the front door on this mild Monday morning. Pavement wet, we begin the mile walk to school. We are running late for 5K training, but neither of us seems to think that much about it as the conversation begins to flow.
The birds seem to be everywhere filling the air with happy and joyful chirps. We even hear our first “thack” as stated by the bird we have lovingly nicknamed the mad bird.

We laugh and chat as we cross the street and make our way across the creek into the next neighborhood. Gone is the “thack” of our mad bird friend to be replaced by the “knock, knock, knock” of the woodpeckers.
“I am a running machine!” my daughter informs me. “You know that.” She explains the training philosophy she is using with her best friend who has joined her in 5K training for the spring race. “My legs hurt last night because they just need to get up and move.” She does a few jumps to illustrate her point.
Half way through the walk, “Want to try that tricky multiplication fact now?”
“Yes,” she had trouble with this one on Friday.
“9 X 7”
“64”
“Is that your final answer?”
“63”
“Yes. Good job. So 1/7 of 63 would be?”
No hesitation, “9!”
“And 25 is ¼ of what number?”
She thinks as she walks. Having misunderstood the question, she is attempting to work out the number that, when multiplied by 4 would equal 25. I restate the question and a light bulb shines brightly from above her head. “100!”
The conversation turns to the very well loved state of her stuffed dog, more running theories, and muffins. We round the corner to the school to find, via a quick time check, that we are 10 minutes late. At the front stairs she runs in…”Bye Mamma.”
“Have a good run sweetie. See you at the bus stop.” I wait until the front doors close behind her before turning for the rest of my journey to work. 1 mile down, 1 mile to go.