It's just beginning to get light when I sit down on the front porch to don my running shoes. As I'm about to get up, I look down to see 12,000 ants having a non-social-distancing party in and around the spot just recently occupied by my butt. My immediate reaction is to do a crazy dance and slap at my shorts and legs. Since it was early, the neighbors probably aren't looking, and that's a good thing. I never actually see any ants on my person, but I keep scratching my butt as I'm running. I eventually wind up with welts there, but I'm not sure whether the cause was ants or just scratching.
Eleven itchy, scratchy miles today.
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