06/09/2026
At the risk of embarrassing myself, I'm going to share something a little vulnerable.
Lately I've started jogging again. Well... "jogging" might be generous. Let's call it wogging (an uncoordinated combination of walking and jogging).
Before I moved back to Iowa, I used to do it almost every day after work and it felt so good Then farm life happened. Chores, projects, goats, chickens, more goats... and somehow exercise got replaced with "I wrestled goats, moved hay and hauled water, that counts, right?"
Apparently that logic has finally run its course.
One of the perks of living on a farm is having plenty of space to get outside and move. And unlike a gym, my workout buddies don't judge.
What I wasn't prepared for was the goats' reaction.
The only conclusion I can come to is that they have never seen me voluntarily run anywhere and immediately assumed something was terribly wrong. Every time I started jogging down the driveway, they ran alongside the fence keeping pace with me like a furry emergency response team.
I can only imagine what they were thinking:
"The farmer is running. We don't know why she's running, but we should probably be running too."
Thankfully there was no danger. Just me, attempting fitness, while a herd of concerned goats supervised the entire process. 😂🐐
Stay tuned for a video of my very slow wog and a group of concerned goats following behind.
