We arrive at the park, walk to the head of the trail and begin our 3.5 mile run. A quarter of a mile into the run, I start to realize how loose my shorts are...You know, the mesh shorts that you've worn so many times that there is absolutely no elastic left in the waist band! (But they're cozy and still in style, so it's all good.) As I run over large stones, fallen branches and exposed tree roots, I'm pulling up every side of my 20-year-old shorts in an attempt to keep them on. It was becoming SO daunting! I don't know what was wearing me down more?...Heat exhaustion, focusing on not falling, or continuously hiking up my drawers!
Now don't forget, while I'm handling the shorts situation with my left hand, I'm also holding the leash of a hyper Jack Russell with my right hand. Foreshadow. So the run continues, as "Focus. Focus. Focus." is in my mind, while "Squirrel. Squirrel. Squirrel." is, of course, in Biscuit's tiny Beetlejuice head. Twenty minutes into "the situation", as I *should have expected*...a squirrel dashes right out in front of us! @#*!! Needless to say, Biscuit nearly RIPS my arm right out of its socket in pursuit of the ballsy, little trail rodent. I finally regain control of the pup and continue to run, but realize that I've been running with my shorts around my knees, which end up in seconds around my ankles. And, there's an older gentleman behind me with his dog. Of course, there is. Super. You're welcome, Sir, for the free show of my white Joe Boxers.Not as funny as this past Fall when Biscuit jumped out of the window of the *moving* Jeep when I told her to look at the bu-bu-she-she as we passed a farm! ("Bu-bu-she-she" is our word for sheep.) Even so, I wanted to share my lovely experience with all of you.
The End.
And Scene.
Now, back to business, Jodi! Focus. Focus. Focus.
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