I was cruising down the path this morning keeping a beady eye out for the roadrunner. Around a corner I came across it but it ran right past me in the wrong direction. I slowed down and looked back to see it standing in the path, that look of bewilderment hanging off its beak.
My guess is that the roadrunner doesn't understand the concept of weekends and thought that because it hadn't seen me on the Saturday or Sunday that I'd given up and wasn't coming back to the races.
How very wrong it was and how very easily I beat it today.
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