I just think it's way too often that my life feels like a sitcom. Sometimes I can't believe the situations I find myself in. I mean, you can't make this stuff up. And, thankfully for all of you that get to hear about it, lunch hour today was no exception.
As my days are numbered here in Santa Monica (I'm not ready to talk about it), I am trying to do as many of the things I love, as much as possible, before I ship out next week. One of my favorites? Taking walks and/or runs along the beach, of course! It's just too easy, with the beach being 6 blocks from my apartment. Today I was feeling particularly ambitious, so I laced up for a legit run (extremely rare for me). I did a little warm-up, stretched out, and then hit the pavement/sand. It felt really good.
Almost too good. What do I mean by that? Oh, just that I got so lost in my run/playlist/beautiful surroundings....that I accidentally ran all the way to Marina del Rey. To some of you that might not seem like a big deal, but to a lame-o non-runner like me? HUGE deal! By my calculation (and MapQuest's best guess) that was a cool 6.4 miles. I usually run 2...maximum. So yes...I found myself in a bit of a pickle.
Just turn around and run back, you say? Yeah, that was my first thought too. However, by the time I realized how far I was from home, I was exhausted and seriously parched (no water bottle, of course). Crap. Now what? I start walking back towards home, feeling dejected and helpless...and apparently it was written all over my face...because lo and behold, a nice gentleman who happened to be walking by on the same path stopped to talk to me. Here's about how the conversation went (to the best of my recollection...I was kind of delirious by this point):
Guy (who I discovered to be named Adam) - "Nice day for a run, huh?"
Me - "Yeah...well, it was. I got a little too ambitious and now I have to get myself back home!"
Adam - "Where's home?"
Me - "Just up in Santa Monica, but at this point it seems really far away - bad planning on my part."
Adam - "I live in SM too! I'm actually heading back there now, if you want a ride? My car is just about 3 or 4 blocks away."
Me (in my head) - "No...bad idea...don't do it."
Me (mouth not listening to brain) - "Yes please!"
Adam - "Cool. That seems like a way better idea than walking or running back."
Me (in my head) - "What the heck is that supposed to mean?! You think I can't hack it?!"
Me (mouth speaking the truth) - "YUP."
So we proceed to walk to his car (a super sweet Jeep Wrangler with the top down) and get in. I don't know how he let me in there...I was a sweaty mess from my run. I suppose it didn't hurt that I had my tank top rolled all the way up and tucked into my sports bra, so he could see those washboard abs I have. NOT.
Anyway, we have a nice little ride back to Santa Monica, chatting the whole way. Turns out he lives just 10 blocks from me here and is in vet school (a-d-o-r-a-b-l-e). And how does he want to be repaid for saving my sorry butt from my ill-fated run? By taking ME out for drinks on Thursday. Seriously?! Am I on TV or something?!
Either way, it's the least I can do for my sweet rescuer, right? Oh yeah, I think so.
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