Giant yellow play dough breasts

Last night I plugged myself in and off I went. I hit about 4 miles of hilly terrain before my dinner of pesto chicken sliced on salad caught up with me and I had to stop. I either need to eat earlier or run before dinner...
A few weeks ago I was in Walmart with my daughter and of course the tacky clothing drew her in like a tractor beam. She ended up with Oscar the Grouch, the Cheshire Cat and a couple of Hannah Montana shirts (though she's never seen the show). I ended up with the tootsie pop shirt (How many licks does it take...), Sorry (the boardgame), Lemonheads and a bright yellow, unmissable, really quite ugly but good to run in Play-Doh shirt. I wore it last night.
So back to the run. I went down the neighbor's driveway into the woods, up the logging road that parallels their driveway, through brush, downed trees, briars and burrs, the D-O-W-N the other side and after a sweeping right turn back on the trail up to the big beech tree. That's the turn around point most days, as I can make a 3-4 mile run out of it from there.
The fun part is back down from the big beech tree, as it is pretty steep in places and there's a bit of ground cover so there's a little hope and pray involved. Celebration had come on the ipod, and I sang, danced and giggled my way down the trail, all the while running quite quickly for me.
When I got to the bottom, where I make another sweeping right turn and go back up,up,up the next trail, there was a truck at the cabin that's there. I can only imagine what that poor sucker thought as he saw this crazy lady in a bright yellow Play Doh shirt gallumping down the trail, singing away, braids in her hair and kind of nearly out of control, the Play Doh boy bouncing away on her chest. If it had been a child, the memory would have scarred so badly no amount of commercialism could ever re-instate Play Doh as a favorite plaything.