I took Molly to Greenlake for a run on Tuesday. My plan was that she would sleep while I ran the lake. Alas, plans at times go to waste. The run was fine. My legs were popsicles for the first mile, mile two was pretty good and right when I got into my groove around mile 2.5, Molly fell out of hers. She began thrashing around in the stroller and tossing her body, like a wild thing. I decided to just let her out since I only had a half mile more of my run to do and it didn't really matter if we slowly walked it.
Molly took the opportunity to dash toward the water with a frenzy, pick up every stick she could find and run toward the trees like a wild thing. She tore off her mittens and hat which made her cold as it was only 37 degrees outside. The cold led to a complete and utter breakdown which led to me holding a squirmy toddler while trying to push the stroller back to the car. I'm sure if she could form proper words, she would have yelled, "I'm a wild thing! Rawr!"
It was a very long half mile. We finally got back to the car where Molly continued to scream and cry as I loaded her up. I got a lot of sympathetic looks from people all around me.
But 5 minutes after I drove away from the lake, Molly was sound asleep in the backseat. Being a wild thing wears a little soul out and rest is the only way to gain back one's wildness.
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