Da ba dee, da ba di

I attended the Blue Mile run today. It was, obviously, just a mile long. A run, but you were supposed to wear blue. Well, I can do that in spades. I had a blue zentai outfit, so I thought I could out-blue anyone there.
I only participated in the fun run. And I did it with the hood up. This meant that my visibility was high, but my personal visibility was low. I didn’t have trouble breathing, but I could really only see shapes. I quickly realized how awkward that was when I twisted my ankle a bit in a pothole. I took to following someone in a neon-green shirt, and assumed he would avoid the hazards on the road. If the sun was in my eyes, I was effectively blind.
I got to run on Whyte avenue for awhile, and I was fairly popular there. Better than the walk to the course where I was frequently asked “Did you lose a bet?”
In theory, if you were one of the elites, you could only win the very large prize money if you were wearing blue. Almost none of them were. I didn’t think that was in the spirit, but when they can run a mile in less than five minutes, I’m hardly one to argue.
Afterwards there was a pizza party. And then I went to Feast. All while being completely covered in electric blue.
While driving home, on Whyte avenue, I saw three girls skipping along in their own zentai outfits. I can easily come up with reasons not to go out and meet them; I’m too old for Whyte; I don’t have anything to do with them; I wouldn’t be able to find them after I parked the car; I didn’t want to get harassed by drunk people on Whyte while I’m in a full body-stocking.
I still should have gone out.