Special delivery

Running is running - and it makes me happy even if I'm mindlessly looping a track. Still, it's nice to have somewhere particular in mind when you set out - a run with a goal is definitely the best kind. But be careful what you wish for. Because today, my dear runners, I boldy went where few have gone before: on a run. To the vet. With a vial of poo in my pocket.

Don't look again, you read that right. Perhaps I had better explain!

One of the joys of having a dog is having him get sick, which inevitably happens from time to time. Quincy, the canine in question, visited the vet yesterday with my mum, coming home with $125 worth of medication and an empty sterile vial. What to put in it? You guessed it.

Mum did the really dirty work (sample collection... eeew!), but SOMEONE had to be responsible for turning in the foul specimen. And SOMEONE just happened to want to go for a run today. SOMEONE's evil, lazy brother put two and two together - and thus yours truly became a messenger of stool.

Really, in practice, it wasn't so bad - the sample was hermetically sealed, and I put it in a brand new ziploc for good measure. And in my torso pack it travelled, from point A to B. The heroic delivery was made. The vet's aides probably got a good laugh.

I had a great run - an easy four miles in the rain. It felt great after all the heat we've been getting lately. It felt good to run AND be useful.

All the same, I'm going to wash out that torso pack before I put anything edible in it again. You know. Just for good measure.