Clear the Track

All that indoor pacing was getting on my nerves, so I slipped out through the back door and headed straight for the garden path. Sitting right in the middle of the crunchy gravel was a heavy slate plant marker, tilted like a roadblock. I charged forward, dropped my shoulder low, and gave the flat stone a solid shove until it flipped clean out of the dirt path. A tiny grey pill bug curled into a tight ball right where the marker had rested, practically rolling away on its own. With the runway cleared of obstacles, my outdoor sprint lane is officially wide open.