Everyone wants to know what A-100 is like. I use the term "everyone" loosely here, seeing as how nobody has asked me what A-100 is like. But, as someone who once had a passing thought about considering a career in hard-hitting journalism, I answer the unasked questions, just like tarot card readers and schizophrenics. So I'll tell you what A-100 is like. It's fine, thanks.
|Ducks just wanna know what A-100 is like (and have fun).|
We had a field trip to Capitol Hill last week. I emerged from the Union Station metro stop just as the rain-heavy clouds exploded all over Washington DC. I wasn't quite sure which direction was which, and whipping out my phone for directions in the frantic rain would've been akin to throwing it in a goldfish pond. So I struck out in a random direction and hoped I was right, but I wasn't. Ten minutes later I was still meandering aimlessly, my suited and tied self completely drenched. It may be true that not all who wander are lost, but some who wander are lost. I soon bumped into a colleague with an umbrella and I was like, "Wherever you are going, I am going with you. You are my Moses." And my Moses led me to the Senate building, where I holed up in the men's bathroom for 20 minutes with the warm hand dryer so when the congressional staffers came to talk to us I wouldn't look like I just took a bath in my suit.
One of my favorite things about suburban Northern Virginia is the paved running/biking trails. There are so many of them that they need lanes, road signs, and intersections. I went running a couple Saturdays ago at about eight in the morning and I swear there was more traffic on the trails than on Interstate 66. I kept getting passed by guys in spandex on bikes and sweaty runners in expensive running clothes. And I kept passing people with dogs so huge that they'd have a fighting chance in a cage match with a Howitzer.
I confess I felt a bit like a hobo in my thrift store running outfit. My running shirt advertises dental services and has a smiley sunshine on the front beneath the slogan "Wake Up to a Brand New Smile." Maybe I was hyper sensitive, but it sure seemed like people -- and their dogs -- were doing an awful lot of double-taking at my shirt. I think I need to go get myself a respectable running shirt like everyone else, one that siphons moisture away from your body and converts hydrocarbons into nitro that you can use for speed boosts, just like Prefontaine.