It Happened

I did some running. Not the kind where you put on stretchy shorts and a head band but a little bit of running. And it wasn't easy. I helped clean the church I go to yesterday morning. I went to take out the garbage from the kitchen and as I stepped outside, I realized I had no idea where to take this sack of refuse. How is that possible? I have gone to this same particular building at least once a week for four and a half years. How do I not know where the dumpster is? I looked around because it would make sense to have it near the kitchen. I couldn't find it. Sometimes they get tricky and put it inside a fenced off area so I played a game similar to those Where's Waldo books. I was searching all over that parking lot. Where is that dumpster? I started looking further and further out. Maybe it shares a dumpster with the religion building next door to save on money. I still didn't see it. As I brought my sight back to the church I was standing stupidly outside of and thinking I'd just load it in my car and take it home because I know where the outside garbage can is there -- but not actually considering it because, well, ew. I don't want that in my car - or in my hand for that matter (I needed to find that dumpster quickly.) I saw one. It was on the very tippetiest edge of the parking lot out by the street. No, that can't be it. Why would they put it so far away from the building? My friend was washing windows to the entrance of the church and I asked her (with disbelief in my voice) "Is that the dumpster for the church over there?!" Indeed it was. Apparently, she actually knows. (And has only been coming to this particular building for maybe two years) I was no longer thinking about taking this sack home but I was thinking I could load it in the back of my car to drive it over there. It was really that far away. But then, again, I don't want that thing in my car. I carted it across the parking lot and tossed the big black old bacon smelling bag in. As I tossed it and the brief flash of the possibility of someone sleeping in there and me not wanting to see their dirty, surprised (and hopefully not angry) face ran through my mind, I began to run the distance back to the sanctuary of the church kitchen. My friend saw me high-tailing it across the parking lot and, lucky for me and my unrevealed childish fears (I always did this at home as a child because I always envisioned a bomb placed inside the can that would trip the timer when a sack was placed inside so I had only a few precious seconds to get into the top driveway before that bomb would explode. Hmmm. I may, or may not, have watched a little too much MacGyver growing up.) My friend, who may or may not think I'm normal, called "Hey, you're getting a little exercise!" I thought "Hey, yeah, I am. I'm running. Hey! I am running! I might be able to count this as starting to run!" Then I had to quit talking to her because I thought my lungs were going to explode. Seriously?! I was just running from a pretend scary man across the parking lot! My legs were beginning to burn as I pushed myself to finish my run to the door. Whew! It's a good thing I decided to start my training out slow and work into this.