Noticing anything missing from our driveway?
What was that? Speak up.
Oh! A car? Yes! A CAR. Our car. Well if it’s not in our driveway, where on earth is it? Remember when I told you about the four miles I ran Wednesday morning? And the swanky workout facility that is in our school’s basement, approximately a mile away from our house? Right. That’s where I left our poor car Wednesday morning.
A few weeks ago, our car refused to start. At first we thought it was the starter (duh), as there was a CLICK, CLICK, CLICK noise and no engine turn-over. We got a jump and thought all was well. Not the case. The same CLICK-monster attacked again, but this time at 6:15am. And not to get too graphic, but if you know anything about the effects that running can take on a runner’s body, you know that proximity to a restroom relatively soon after a run is critical to maintain one’s dignity.
Picture it: me in my workout duds, trudging back to our house on rocky, dirt roads, trying to maintain a brisk pace, but not so fast that it would rev the engines of an evil process that had already been warming up since mile #2 on the treadmill.
Thankfully I made it, but with the extra commute time, my breakfast was reduced to oatmeal from the microwave, a wicked method of cooking oats.
Making the Best of a Bummer
It came to mind that should I have simply put my camera down, I probably did have enough time to cook my oatmeal on the stove. ::eye roll::