I received a sign from my deity today.
You know how some people see Jesus or Mary in grilled-cheese sandwitches and other random patterns? This isn't like that. At all. This is real.
My deity formed from a waterbottle I poured out. The Nuun inexplicably formed a solid on the ground that remained for 2 days, and then miraculously disappeared and left this image on my driveway.
I enhanced the photo so that you can see his wonderousness clearly.
It is clearly a sign. With His noodly appendages, he is sending me a message, quite clearly: Get off your butt and run, girl.
It's finally above 40 degrees outside, perfect running weather. I've got my route all mapped out.
And yet I continue to seek out all things fleece (they have made wonderous advances in fleece now, haven't they? Like my huge pink fleece robe from Costco. It feels like rabbit fur.) and stare outside.
I've been surprisingly lazy this week, considering that my next marathon is less than a week away. That's right, the Mississippi Blues Marathon is the 5th, Saturday, and I've been laying around all week like a hybernating sloth.
(Hey, Do sloths hybernate? I mean, how would we know?)
I've been too lazy to go outside and run, and as a result, I have no energy to go outside and run. I would have more energy if I went outside and ran.
And there you have it, the big-butted lazy runner's paradox. Right up there with, "If I had my glasses on, I could see better and find my missing glasses."
Sigh. I've got all my stuff laid out. My new pink Nike hat with the built-in earphones is the same shade of pink as my sexy pink Injinji toe socks. Niiiiiiicccccce. If only I could find my Garmin. Where the hell is it?
Alright, alright. I'm going.