Here’s the scene:  you have been running for fourteen years (with breaks, of course, because you’re no Forrest Gump), but a recent knee injury has upset your running routine.  You are naturally very, verrry sad about this.

(Okay, so obviously this story is about me [did the red hair give it away??], but just put yourself in my shoes for a second, okay?  Besides, they’re pink!  And who doesn’t love pink shoes?!)

But back to the story we are pretending is about you…

…On a sunny Saturday morning you decide you can longer stand the confinement of your house.  You are brave!  You are strong!  You can do this!  Knee injury or no, you are going running (dammit), and your knee is just gonna have to deal with that.

Nerves, excitement, and caffeine jumping through your veins, you lace up your pink shoes (ahhhh they feel good!!) and skip out the door.

You leap like a gazelle up the first hill.  You are free!  You are outside!  You are run-ning!

And then you fall.

You suddenly have serious regrets about the plans you’ve made for your Saturday.  You could be in bed!  Drinking coffee!  Reading a book!  But noooooo.  You had to go running, and now you are lying in the middle of the bike path praying the electric magenta hue of your shoes will fend off any oncoming cyclists.  You are not in bed.  You are not drinking coffee.  This is not a scene from the novel on your bedside table.

You  v e r y  s l o w l y  peel yourself up off the asphalt and start the long limp home.  You were sad before because you couldn’t run.  Now you are sad because you still can’t run, and also you have realized that you are a bit of a dummy.  What kind of idiot thinks to herself, “sooo I’ve got this knee problem, but–psh–that’s NO BIG DEAL”?  Apparently YOU are that idiot.

But–suddenly!–something wonderful happens!  Skies clear!  Tears dry!  Birds sing in magical mellifluous melody!  And it’s all because of–

–the adorable bunny rabbit hopping out of the hedges for the sole purpose of twitching its perfect pink nose at you.

But that’s how it will all start.  From then on, you will see an adorable, sweet, perfect little Peter Cottontail each and every day.  It will become a more important “one-a-day” than any vitamin, and you may or may not question the humor of praying for your daily bunny-I-mean-bread.

Oh, you.

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