Pocket full of sunshine.

Lesson for the day: If it isn't raining, go run. Because if you wait 15 minutes to go run, it will rain.

Then you have to wait 15 more minutes for it to stop raining. Thirty minutes later, I was on a lovely little wet jog, taking pictures of waves to make up for the utter lack of them that I have saved on my computer, 78 from yesterday simply won't suffice. I was really feeling great, fifth day running, not sore, not tight, knees not screaming about suicidal thoughts and depression, and a new mix on my iPod. Not to mention the new headphones from Mom. I was on a roll. The drizzle was kind of nice and refreshing and I got really adventurous and scandalous and took off my hat and let my half straight half curly pony tail flop around like a little bunny. Ben, my old ski coach, used to make fun of me because when we filmed a practice, you could always tell which one was me because my pony tail was hopping away merrily, living it's own life of joy while I died miserably in the cold, panting away and not nearly as happy as my hair.

One hazard to running in the rain and trying to take your hat off increases greatly when you also live near a driving school, which seems to be open 24/7. Somewhere between almost getting hit by a car and managing to get my hat stuffed down the back of my pants since it kept falling out of my jacket (add bunny tail to my list of bunnyish characteristics) it started pissing rain. That's really a huge understatement. I didn't ever value that term until I came here. It litereally feels like Mother Nature is bawling her eyes out because Father Time stood her up. Or Zeus or something. Some Big Man in the Sky. Maybe Jesus had another date.

And then, irony or ironies, Pocket Full of Sunshine by Natasha Beddingfield came on. At the same moment that the C2 bus ran right through a puddle, further ensuring that any part of my body not already dripping received another shower. Just to make sure I was squeaky clean.

Feeling like I deserved some kind of award (as I always do when I work out, let alone get peed on by MN) I went to the famous Lupa. I am proud to say that I didn't buy three donuts. The fact that there were six people in line had nothing to do with it. Instead I bought a bag of Salt and Vinegar potatoe chips. I think, based on my sprint from Lupa to my house, that I would have made a fabulous football player. If I have kids, I will be pro at carrying them under my arm and running. But today, it was just the blue bag. I'll keep you updated if I get drafted for the NFL. It's pretty likely to happen.