We’re training for a half-marathon with our girls. Boy, has it been hard to drag ourselves out and log the miles. Thursday it was all we could do to make it out and back again for a total of 3.8 miles. And I can’t call that outing a run; for that matter, it wasn’t even a jog. Part walk/part jog … I believe we went on a “wog.” At any rate, this is our second year training to wog the Indianapolis half-marathon, known locally as the Mini.Last year, we weren’t sure we could pull it off. I’d run the Mini once on my own, and the Belgian Wonder ran a similar race in Belgium in his early 20s. This was different. Could all of us finish 13.1 miles? Or had we aimed too high?Our first time out to train, the girls could barely make it a mile. Could they possibly finish the race? Could they persevere to the end?You can read more about our first family half-marathon experience in “Persevering to the Finish Line Together” at The High Calling. By the way, we didn’t sign up our eight-year-old son for the Mini, but he does join us as we train. While we wog, he bikes. Pedaling alongside us, he encourages each wogger with “You can do it!”, “Keep it up!” or “You’re almost home!” I’m telling you: every walker, runner and cyclist should have her own personal cheerleader along for the ride.All that encouragement might transform a wogger into a full-fledged jogger.