Like many mornings for the past five weeks, I woke up bright and early this morning to go on my run/walk. I was preparing for a doozie - knowing that I was going to have to run for eight minutes straight. One of the things that I love about living in Greenwood is Grand Blvd. It's a beautiful street, lined with old trees and stately homes. It also has sidewalks, which really comes in handy when you exercise at 6 am. You never know when a farmer who had too much scotch the night before might accidentally run you over on the way to the farm.
Anyway. So my exercise route is mapped out on Grand Blvd. This has all been fine and good up until the last week. You see, a little movie called The Help has thrown up in Greenwood. Wait. That was mean. I like The Help being here. Really, I do. It's added some life to our little town and given us something to talk about. Not to mention that my bartender boyfriend has really banked on some tips. And I've met some pretty cool people. So really, The Help, I'm not mad at you.
So I'm making my way down Grand Blvd, it's about 6:15 am. I've already completed my first 8 minutes of running and I'm taking my five minute walking break. I see the "road closed" signs ahead, just as they've been there for the past week. However, at this time of the morning it's never been a problem to run through. They're not filming, testing lighting, or doing whatever it is that they do when shooting a movie. The most action I see is someone cranking up an old car. I see a police officer ahead but he's chatting with a local so I figure I'm in the cool. I also see several other locals doing their own morning exercise thing straight up ahead.
Here's the deal. Yes, I get a little starstruck. Who doesn't? But in reality, I'm so awkward that if I actually encountered, say, Sissy Spacek, I would be so freaked out by her that I wouldn't say anything to her. Was I trying to get up in the filming of The Help? No. Was a being a little nosey? Just maybe.
So right when I pass previously mentioned police officer it's time for me to start my run again. With great confidence - I start to run. I think Justin Timberlake was blaring on the iPod. THANK GOD I, for some reason, look over my shoulder. I am being chased by the police officer like I'd just robbed the freaking County Marketplace. He starts waving his arms and screaming "NOOOOO!! YOU CAN'T GO DOWN THERE!!!" I do a sharp pivot, duck onto a side street, and contemplate crawling up a tree and hiding out for the rest of the day. So embarrassing. This officer was yelling. Not to mention that I was running in the brightest yellow tank you've ever seen. What if he would have tackled me? I. Would. Have. Died.
Thank goodness I escaped my run without trespassing charges or a broken arm. Still a little embarrassed but I think I'll make it.
So my hair appointment is today. What should I do? I always love Reese Witherspoon's hair. I feel like she also has fine hair and therefore feels my pain. Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure that she is armed with a stylist and a truckload of product. What's a girl to do?