The Wilderness and Body Shots

I ran in the woods again on Wednesday. Yeah, still hate it. I decided to explore a little more and avoid the steep incline on the previous running trail. Luckily, the trail takes you farther from the "girl's finishing school" and debutantes that will be unleashed to society in a short 2-6 years. I checked the maps on the sign posts as I went, making sure I kept to the marked and maintained trail. Now, as this is winter, I realized the trail might not be in the greatest shape, and I did notice that a few places as I went along needed repair. Log bridges with broken logs, traction areas that needed to be replaced, that sort of thing. I'd been out about an hour, coming around the back side of the trail when I noticed the trail getting fainter. "Hmm, the park system must not have been out here for awhile." Soon, I was fighting my way through Scotch Broom that towered four feet over my head. As it is not my habit to carry a machete when I'm out, this made forward progress a trifle difficult. Not to mention slow, as I had to stop and untangle the dog's leash from the Scotch Broom stems that resembled saplings. But I persevered! Even as the thought that perhaps I was off trail wormed it's way into my frontal lobe, I pushed on. Past the car parts, mattresses, and rusty bedprings (weird. the other parts of the park are so well maintained. oh well), past the power lines (this seems less wooded than the rest of the park) until I reached a construction site with an erosion barrier. Gee, Dorothy, I don't think we're in Kansas any more. I blame oxygen deprivation. I then had to fight my way back through the maze of opportunistic, non native weeds to the trail. Oh, look, the trail marker I must have blazed right past! Back on track, I continued as the trail got steeper and more narrow. Before long, it resembled the donkey track into the belly of the Grand Canyon. Good choice. I am obviously not running by this time, however, I am getting a hell of a lower body workout. Buns and thighs! The dog, meanwhile, is lagging as far as his leash will reach behind me. Apparently, he feared for his life walking beside me on the trail.

After I had recovered from my adventure, I ventured to the mall for a Very Important Errand. Anyone who knows me knows that it must be a Very Important Errand for me to voluntarily enter the mall; the place where my psych instructor in nursing school insisted was the font of all the mental illness in the county. And rightly so, I believe. The fact that I wasn't at knife point stuns me still. Anyhoo....this mall has an American Eagle, a Hollister, and an Ambercrombie and Fitch store. Why they need three meccas of douchebaggery I do not know. But the question I have is do they send Axe or Tag body shots through the ventilation system? Just walking by these stores you are hit with a wave of the most nauseating miasma of funk known to man. I think I tasted the stores for about 20 feet after I passed them. You can't smoke inside buildings in this county, but you can sure as hell fumigate with douche perfume. I'm just sayin'.