Scott – I saw your girl on my drive home.
Me – Fast skinny girl?
Scott – Yeah. She was running. She always looks like she’s doing a threshold run.
Me – Hmph.
Scott – Her stride’s a little weird, though.
Me – Wait, what? That’s not the same girl. This girl’s got awesome form.
Scott – The blonde one?
Me – That’s not fast skinny girl. That’s the other one.
Scott – But she’s fast.
Me – Yeah, I know, but the other one is tan and has awesome legs and is faster. Trust me.
Scott – There’s no way there’s another girl in this neighborhood who’s faster.
Me – She is!
Scott – Doubtful.
Me – Trust me.
Scott – Is she in college?
Me – Maybe, or just after. The other one is older, in her 30s.
Scott – I’d believe she was faster if she was in college.
I’m a little insulted that he doesn’t believe me. Here’s what I’m going to do — next time fast skinny girl is doing her usual routine of making me look bad…ok, or just running her normal pace…whatever, I’m going to try to hang with her and find out all the important information. You know, how old she is, what her PRs are, and what she’s training for. Then, I’m going to repeat the process for the other fast girl. In no time, my investigative powers should win enough information to convince my husband that I am right.
I like to be right. Now, if only I could be fast, too.