On one of my recent long Saturday morning runs, I found God.
Some background: I was running a 16-miler and it was hot, and when it's hot, it's important to hydrate often. However, hydrating often also means having to go to the bathroom. (I mean, not for delicate little flowers like myself, but for, you know, other people.) Anyway, this 16-miler was not going as well as I had hoped. My GPS watch decided to roll over and die around mile seven and I was forced to do mental gymnastics to figure out when I should take my next Gu, and, most importantly, figure out how far it would be until I reached a public restroom. It was remarkably humid and the sun beat down on me, my legs were tired, my skin was caked in salt, my stomach growled, my watch was dead, and my bladder was full. I was growing impatient.
At what I think was between miles nine and ten, I saw a wonderful sight: an Arco gas station. The restroom itself was locked. I pushed open the door to the station's convenience store and stepped into air conditioning so cold it immediately made me shiver. The man working the gas station stood looking at me. His name tag read "Fouad."
"Yooouuu," he said to me, drawing out the word. In his hand, he held a key. HE WAS HOLDING THE RESTROOM KEY. Now, I know running high miles in the heat can make you a little mentally fuzzy, but I know what I heard. Fouad seemed to be expecting me. He unlocked the restroom, and I was grateful. I still had a long way to run, but I felt a thousand times better.
I conclude that my new BFF Fouad is either a) exceptionally skilled at anticipating customers' needs, or b) God. (Now, I'm not religious, but if God cares about stuff like football and the Grammys, then surely He can make time for a gal out on a long training run?)