Damsel in Distress...again.

OK, there was no Snidely Whiplash,
I brought this on myself...

Hey, remember when I got lost in Central Park? Well, apparently this feat isn't limited to other countries, but can just as easily be done in my hometown! For my 8K run last week, I was trying to figure out where I could fit it in. Since we were going to the Flames game and the weather had been fantastic, I joked I should just run to the Dome, but checking the route, I saw our house to the nearby Glencoe (where Bryan was going to be anyways) was 8.2k...PERFECT!

Thinking ahead, I packed a change of clothes (including jersey, of course) in Bryan's car the night before and planned to meet him around 7:15 so I could freshen up and we could get to the game for 8pm puck drop. At home, I packed my cash, ID (and yes, I DID get carded for beer later, HURRAY!), phone and keys into my Coach wristlet, put that into a plastic ziplock (am not going to get lovely bag all stinky, thank you!) and then tucked it into my pocket. My first run with a Coach bag, am so fashionable! I headed off and since the whole way is a gentle incline, the kilometers flew by as gravity helped me on my way.

I was wearing my headlamp, so no fears of slipping on the last remaining bits of ice.  I learned the hard way that sometimes I couldn't tell the difference between "ice" and "6 inches of icy water" so my feet were soaked by the time I got to 14th st. Undaunted, I pressed on, I was nearly there and I knew exactly where I was! I was so proud of myself for being all organized and fun for doing this, and had even added a new song to my running playlist. (Turns out, I REALLY liked running to this song, and maybe ended up listening to it 9 times in a row?) Anyways, I get to the traffic circle as expected right around the 7.5K mark and sped up a bit, excited at how smoothly the run had gone and how very on time I was going to be.

A few minutes later I came to a steep hill with no sidewalk. Hmm...I don't remember a hill around here?  Fearful of being smushed by a car, I sprinted up the hill and turned left into what I thought (and was now really hoping) was the Glencoe...no such luck. I was in a cul-de-sac overlooking...something. Maybe Elbow? I'm not sure. I fire off a quick "I'm not lost" text and backtrack, confident I was only slightly off course. I run another half kilometer and still no Glencoe. I stop to squint at street signs that don't help me.  I run another half kilometer and realize I'm not sure if I should be running to bigger street numbers or smaller. Looking around, I realize I no longer know which direction downtown is, let alone East or West.  I'm so lost, I don't even know which direction to head to figure out where to go. Defeated, I call Bryan. He asks where I am. I walk to the nearest street sign and read them out. He starts laughing and says not to move and he'll be there in 5 minutes.

I take the opportunity to do some post run stretches and feel sheepish...when Bryan does pull up, he is still laughing. He continues laughing as he drives for nearly 5 minutes to get back near the Glencoe, at which point I'm laughing pretty hard myself. Apparently at the traffic circle, instead of going straight, I had made a hard left and been heading due South for over a kilometer...

In case you're wondering, Bryan =2, Felicity =0 and I will always carry a phone on any run I go on by myself from now on. Also, because of this lengthy delay, I had to change in the car on a side street before hoofing it to the Dome. I felt sorry for the people sitting in front of me who had to smell my stinky feet the whole game. But I tell you what, the hot dog and pint of beer I had at the game were great!