I’m happy to say spring is finally here deciding to stay awhile.
Despite my joy, with the exception of a couple layers, I’m still more or less dressed for winter, at least running wise.
I have so many things going on, I’ve yet to address this problem, the biggest being what to do with my stuff: phone, glasses, money, keys that all winter gets stuffed into the worn pockets of my Barbour jacket.
I need a fanny pack as much as I hate them – a modest pouch to strap around my waist or else give up going to Panera. Last year I’d head to Starbucks around 5ish, then come back home before running, but it doesn’t appeal to me anymore being the hardcore Paneraite I’ve become.
I’ve been committing an even worse fashion faux pas…I’ve been carrying a bag – a small Prada, the perfect size, but cumbersome and annoying as you run.
This morning, stretching on what I like to call an Olmstead bridge (Frederick Law Olmstead designed Central Park) placed my purse on the ground beside me, when a golden retriever casually popped by and snatched it.
OMG…STOP THAT DOG.
His owner, busy texting, hadn’t seen what happened.
Clancy, now a good ways away, was proud as can be with his new acquisition.
Who can blame him…IT WAS PRADA.
To my credit, I was very good about the whole thing since he was just doing what retrievers do, but afterwards when Clancy brought it back…good dog…I said wryly to his mistress, “Is Clancy the fashion police by any chance?” She, with great annoyance finally put down her phone and said…