Unicorn Run

It Happens When You Least Expect It.

- Lisa Abdellah

“HAVE ANOTHER TEQUILA,” encouraged my mate Zade, sending two shots of guaranteed memory loss in our direction.

My husband Alex refused, politely. And looked at me disapprovingly.

The bar had hazy purple lighting, our shoes were sticking to the carpet, and we were dancing with foolish grins on our faces. At that moment, I felt my sole purpose in life was to down that shot.

Besides, Alex had declared he wasn’t having one; which, in my merry state, I assumed was a gallant offer to be the designated sensible (i.e. boring) one for the evening. (Possibly involving giving me a piggyback home, should I not be able to get there of my own accord later in the evening-slash-early-hours-of-the-morning.)

Burning the candle at both ends is usually a no-no for runners. Fortunately for me, our run together the following morning failed to give Alex any opportunity to gloat. I felt surprisingly light on my feet, my muscles fired as they should, and the colours all around us were brilliant.

Alex, on the other hand, confessed he felt like a lead balloon.