I heard the muffled growl from the other room and looked to the sky in prayer. I blew on the imaginary dice and threw them against the velvet bumper inside my head, hoping it was only gas.
As you can see, my run was over. No dry fire on this one. I crapped out. Literally.
On the upside, this outfit had a zipper that ran from neck to foot, which was helpful, because it contained the ‘bulk’ of the spill.
On the downside, I’m no stranger to picking dog crap out of the treads of my running shoes, and we were headed down a very similar road.
I faced a decision.
Spend a few hours picking blowout from the zipper-teeth of this outfit, giving it an overnight bleach marinade OR quietly put this garment out of it’s misery and sit down for a cold beverage. After zero minutes of deliberation, I bagged and tagged this beauty and sent her on her way to the landfill.
Rest in Peace outfit, we’ll miss having you around.