Your Shirt is the Color of My Farts

Let me begin by specifying that this blog really is about cross country ski training for the average, citizen, master skier. I should also state that this particular blog's title has relevance to cross country ski training--promise.

I was doing a level 1, plodding run along East River Road this evening, enjoying the wild flowers and cooler temps than earlier in the day. I was wearing a green shirt--that is the color of drought-stricken grass--and enjoying that it was loose and allowing air circulation.

I came upon a group of about 10-15 kids between the ages of 8-10 standing along the curb. They were at a yard party at one of the beautiful, large homes along River Road just after crossing into St. Paul from Minneapolis, and their inflatable jumping box looked like it had sprung a leak as it was partially slumped over and no one was playing on it. Instead, some of the attendees were lined up on the curb, trying to get cars to honk or drivers to wave (I stopped and asked). They would start jumping up and down and cheering as each car approached--and the excitement would end abruptly if they got no response from the driver or continue for a little while if they got their wave or honk. There were points kept.

I obviously disappointed them because I was not a car. I did get a shout out for "saving the environment" by running instead of driving? But I was also told by a bold young woman that, "Your shirt is the color of my farts." Now that's a new one. For the rest of the run, I tried to think of what I could eat that would make my farts smell the color of my shirt. Prunes came to mind. . .I just threw the shirt in the wash, otherwise I would have a photo!

I lifted after my run and am enjoying a beer (carbs) before bed.