I slept for another 5, then dragged my sore and weary self out of the warm comfort of my blankets. I pulled on sweats (I slept in my running stuff to save time and to ensure that I wouldn't accidentally throw on, say, dress pants instead of shorts in my early morning fog), found my flips, and headed out the door.
I picked B up and finally figured out how to turn off the windshield wipers as we pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school we were meeting at. We sleepily made faces at our friends in the car next to us; we wait in there until the last possible second so we don't freeze.
Around 6:55, we started looking around for our coach. Usually he's there about 5 minutes early, which means we have to leave our cars. We were thrilled that he wasn't there.
At 7, we wondered a little.
At 7:05, we were confused. B and I called K and A one car over. A got out and talked to some other poor souls who were waiting outside cars. She came back with bad news:
Practice was, in fact, at 8 am, not 7. And it was at the high school, not here.
Cue mass swearing and cursing our coach for lack of communication.
So we texted him, telling him we were here and were going to run. The main group took off and ran... I dunno, 7? 8? A and I went our own way, being injured, and ran a whopping 3 miles to the bakery, where we split a glazed donut. After we got back, our coach showed up with 3 boxes of donuts. We helped ourselves (after carefully wiping away any telltale leftover glaze bits).
And oh, around 8:30 the rest of the team showed up.
Ah, cross country, a wonderful thing.
A couple days ago I decided to play Parisienne in the cliche stripes + beret + skinnies. Donc... voici...
beret – target
stripes – ON
jean – JCP
bottes – payless
cardi – F21
colliers – vint
stripes – ON
jean – JCP
bottes – payless
cardi – F21
colliers – vint
Avez un bon jour!
~ r
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