Mommy is Locked Out of the Bait

I was reminded last night by my favorite cousin that I needed to update.  It’s been a week or more now since I blogged last, and I know you’re all wondering:  she quit writing, does that mean she quit running?

The short answer is:  NO.

In the last week plus, I was a busy, busy girl.  My best friend moved from UT to Texas, so I spent the weekend with her and her family.  I didn’t run over that weekend, but I picked up over the week.  Nothing too interesting to report except that my ankles/heels/whateveryoucallthem are still bleeding every.time.I.run.  They don’t hurt as much, it’s just gross. 

There’s nothing sexier than your husband finding you at the kitchen sink at 5:30 in the morning.  He asked me what I was doing and when I told him “washing my blood off my shoes” he just pretended the conversation never happened and walked away.  Good choice, sir.  Good choice.

The only slightly eventful thing that happened last week was when I went for my run on Thursday.  I typically go in the mornings, but My Husband had to leave the house before I would be back, so I went when I got home from work.

When you’re standing in my driveway looking across the street, if I go right, it will take me through a gate and around the golf course.  This gate is only open from 7AM to 6PM.  Since it was 5:00 and my jogs only last 30-45 minutes, I just knew I would be able to be back before the gate was locked.

I was wrong.  BOY, was I wrong.

I always take my phone because it’s also my music source and so I called My Husband.  No answer.  I called again.  I mean, I’m looking at my freaking driveway.  I know he’s home.

This time, my daughter answered.  My beautiful, smart, sassy 6-year-old daughter.  My Husband happened to be on his work phone so she answered his personal.  Let me just tell you what a terrible receptionist she would make.

Me:  “Hi, baby!  Tell daddy I’m locked out of the gate and he needs to come and get me.  He’ll know what to do”.
Her:  “WHAT?  You’re locked out of the BAIT”?
Me:  “No.  Tell him mommy is locked out of the gate at the end of the road and that I’m going to start jogging the other way until I see him”.
Her:  “Why don’t you just come home, mommy”?
Me:  “BECAUSE I’M LOCKED OUT OF THE GATE BY THE HOUSE”…
Husband:  “What’s going on?  Are you okay”?
Me:  “Yes, I’m fine, but I’m locked out of the gate.  Come around and get me – I’ll start heading the other direction”.
Husband:  “Give me a minute and I’ll be there”…

The moral of this story is don’t try explaining something like this to your child.  Just wait for daddy to call back.

After I got off the phone, I un-paused my workout and started off in the other direction.  I got about half way to the golf-club before he picked me up.  I still made it home before 6.  You know, the time the gate was supposed to be locked? 

My husband thinks that our grumpy neighbor at the dead-end (where the gate is) is the keeper of the key, but I thought it would be the city.  Either way, I won’t be taking my jogs through the golf course anymore, unless it’s the middle of the day.

I bet some of you want to know why I didn’t just scale the gate.  Well, for two reasons.  First, I’m far to heavy to climb an 8′ gate and make it over the other side unscathed and two, it’s topped with barbed wire.  So yeah, no climbing.