Exercise, Part One

There’s a 2.1-mile stretch of walking path that Herself frequents on weekends. I have been serving as coach/motivator/sidekick during these excursions, with the ultimate goal of prodding Herself into running instead of walking. She demurs when I exhort her to move faster, however, and mutters something that sounds like “ta-tas don’t jog.” Occasionally she will grunt “ANKLE” as well, as if that single word (referring to a piece of anatomy that I obviously lack) will somehow magically convey a wealth of information and elicit sympathy all at once.