Where did I go wrong?
There will be a test at the end, so play close attention!
Saturday morning, I woke up at 6:30 and decided to jet for a run with the dog before the rest of the house stirred (and protested). It was ass-kicking cold – 1. As in one degree above zero. I layered up, loaded up and drove to the Starbucks nearby. Paddi and I make this same trip on the weekends as it accomplishes several things in one outing – exercise for me, exercise for the dog, driving to avoid the 3/4 mile of unshoveled sidewalks between our house and Starbucks, clean bike paths for running for 4 miles, and a return to the car and Starbucks for everyone. Perfect right?
Parked, unloaded the dog, turned on the iPod and snapped my keys to the collar-leash connection (didn’t want to scratch the iPod by tossing keys in that pocket).
Did I mention it was cold? The kind of cold that makes your eyes water. If you don’t brush it away fast enough, it freezes. So, for the first 1/2, I had a little icicle on my eyelash. Funny, eh?
Mile 1 – Hands are freezing in gloves. Wishing for mittens. Know it will pass after mile one.
Mile 2 – Finally release the “hold” button on the iPod allowing me to skip over the drivel I loaded on there in a weak moment.
Mile 3 – Dog poops right next to trash can. Karma loves me today.
End of Mile 3 – A glance at the dogs collar and I’m shouting like a sailor. (Dog cowers, she knows a good cuss word when she hears it.)
THE F-ING KEYS ARE GONE. GONE. GONE…
No choice but to back track and look for keys.
Re-do Mile 2 – no keys.
Re-do Mile 3 – no keys.
Re-do Mile 1 – no keys.
Hands are freezing again. Dog’s whiskers are turning white. Every time we turn to retrace our steps, she pauses and gives me a look like “you’re joking right? my breakfast is THAT way!”
Duck in to Starbucks to inquire about my keys – a popular running route, surely SOMEONE found them and turned them in at the unofficial coffee-laced finish line.
Nope.
No choice but to leave the car and run on home. Uphill. In the 3-6 inches of snow that remains unshoveled on Hanley Road.
We’re home. Thank God, we’re home. But all the doors are locked. Rang the bell – Mike and Kate answer.
“Where’s your car?”
Long story. It takes me a good hour to stop shivering. Another hour before I shower – standing under a scalding shower head. And another hour before we fetch my car.
Still no keys.
So, where did I go wrong?
(a) by being an idiot
(b) by being an idiot with a dog
(c) by being an idiot with my music
(d) by being an idiot with dog, music and POCKETS ON MY PANTS THAT I COULD HAVE USED TO STASH MY KEYS!
One word: bra. Your very own Fort Knox.
How about (e) by being an idiot going for a run in nearly sub-fu**ing zero weather.
Ah, the bra… While a good suggestion, I have found any form of moisture (sweat or – in this case – ice) will introduce its own set of problems. Electronic keys don’t like moisture. Found that out after a wilderness run at Castle Rock State Park. Had a good time breaking into my own car while shooting apologetic, yet innocent looks at the passersby who’s quiet afternoon was shattered by my alarm blasting! Good try Leash!
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