I can't even remember the last time I used that word in a sentence, but the verb tense came rushing back as Maggie taught us new series of exercises at the lake this week. It seems like a bad dream. I just remember Maggie yelling, "Bound!" and everyone leaping across the grass before sunrise. For the record, I am anti-jumping in almost all instances. Maybe it is a height thing.
Speaking of definitions, the meaning of the word "sixteen" is going to be abundantly clear tomorrow morning at 5:00 a.m. SIXTEEN. Yeah, you read that right. For those counting at home, that's six more miles than I ran last week. How is that possible? I have no idea. If I survive the run and the ridiculously long nap I plan to take in the pool afterwards, I'll let you know.
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