Wogging Musing

Wogging. It's a cross of walking and jogging. It's pathetic and best attempted under a cloak of darkness, in the middle of the night, when most people are too tired to look out their windows and laugh hysterically at the lump lurching past their house in a failed attempt to wog.

I have, if not determined, at least dared to dream to learn to jog. Or run. Or re-learn to love walking. Whatever the final outcome, it's safest if I save my "training" for very late at night, when only the neighborhood fox and a few late-night bar patrons can see me and laugh internally. The fox, I think, doesn't care. The bar patrons, I hope, will forget the frightening sight they saw on their way home.

I didnt' get to wog last night. But I plan to make another attempt tonight.

Please, hold your laughter for later. Like when I try to do a full-fledge attempt at running.