Those of you that know me well know that I often accidentally run 9-10 miles instead of 5 because I like to try out “new routes” that leave me stranded places. Well… Mexico is no different. I grabbed Erin (my iPhone) and set out for a nice run down the beach this morning.

As I neared the end of the three mile beach, I realized that I grossly underestimated the power it takes to propel oneself across sinking sand. I needed to find an alternate route to avoid calves like these:

Yowza

I consulted Erin and she indicated that I could turn up the road and run back on 5th street. This road looked questionable, and by questionable I mean abandoned and overgrown, but I have come to trust what Erin tells me. (I know what you are thinking, Mom. This location is ripe for kidnapping. But I am just fine.) So I headed down this road. It was long, but Erin told me to keep on going and the main street was just up ahead. What she did not share was that the road was just up ahead on the other side of a dead end, guarded with three fences and a dingo.

The "Road"

I had to retrace the extra few miles only to head back and take the beach route after all.

Unfortunately, it was high tide, so there was little hard beach to run on.

Fortunately, I was up against a fence that I could grab onto in order to jump a rogue wave that came in.

Unfortunately, the fence was made of rusty barbed wire.

Fortunately, I get frequent tetanus shots for obvious reasons.

I’ve chosen to forgive Erin, because she did provide the most random but perfect playlist to accompany my run. She knows me so well…

I did notice that people were looking at me strange on my way back. I thought they were in awe of my athletic beauty. When I got home I realized that they were really just watching whether I was about to drop dead. I get a red face when I work out. Really red. It just happens. In third grade cross country I literally won the “red face award.” (You know, the pity awards they give to kids that aren’t any good and don’t win the real awards). Anyway, multiply the red face by about 25 when I am running in Mexico.

Post run red. Not pretty.

So I actually bailed on the Peep Meet last night. I was having too lovely of an evening hanging in the hammock working on my screenplay (oh yes kids, there will be a movie). Tonight I’ll be back at the Dirty and Badboys with Karen and friends though. Watch this space.

I also read more in that stupid brain book. Get this… large breasts are not something that men are instinctively drawn to. They just think they are fun to play with. Hence the term fun-bags. Sigh.

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