Platforms and The Ripple Effect

I don't have a platform (or platform shoes because I tend to fall over and break things and it's not 1975, but anyway).

I don't have a gigantic readership. I don't have a gazillion fans on Facebook. I don't tweet to thousands of people.

I don't have a great big booming voice that echoes across the wild wilderness of the Internet. Maybe I will
someday. Most likely I won't. I can't try to convince people that Cheetos Puffs are really packing peanuts coated in powdered cheese sauce (although somehow they're still delicious) or make a difference for a cause I believe in.

Or can I?

Trying Not to Die

So. I've been running. And slacking off on blogging. And stuffing my face with chocolatey things. And reading. And keeping children alive. And other stuff.

But back to running.

In this case, the term "running" refers to the act of puffing along on stubby little legs whilst worrying about being eaten by mountain lions (we live in the boonies and it's a totally rational irrational fear). It's my first foray into the sport since a brief stint in high school cross country. Ah, those were the days ...

*insert weird harp reminiscence-y music*

The year was 2006. I have no idea what was actually cool back then because I was homeschooled, but I thought blue eye shadow and tie-dye tunic tops and playing with dead bugs rocked. One (or perhaps all) of these quirks set off alarm bells for my mom, and she was like, "Uhhh, maybe you should find a hobby, honey".