Yesterday, my husband and I were charged with watching a friend's dog overnight, so we figured we would just stay at their house and bring Scooter with us (friends have the bigger house and a nice yard for the dogs to play in and wear themselves out). This morning, I decided I would get up early and run home (5.3 miles) and my husband would drive home with Scooter a little later when they were ready.
So, I got up at 6 am and headed out the door, but was wise to not forget to detach my house key and stick it in the little pocket of my running shorts. I set out on my run, which was very nice; it was a beautiful morning, humid but nice, and I had a good run. As I reached home, I stuck my finger into that shallow pocket and felt -- nothing. It was gone; the key was gone. I turned the little pocket inside out and searched the ground before me. Where had it fallen out? Clearly, it could have fallen out a block before home or it could have fallen out a block from my friend's house.
For a moment I thought about re-tracing my steps back to their house in the hopes of finding it, and if I didn't find it at least ending up back where my husband was with his keys. But I was tired after my run and reluctant to walk back the same distance, so I figured I would just wait for my husband. I checked the front door of our condo just to see if it was locked, and indeed it was, so I went out by the pool where I could at least sit down for, what could be, a long wait. But then I decided to double check my shorts. You see they're the sort of shorts with the built-in underwear lining, and even though I had briefly looked in there when I first noticed the missing key, I thought I should give it another look. And there, glimmering in the elastic was the shiny house key! It was glorious!
Internally, I did a little victory dance and then let myself in the house. And even though I did manage to get in the house this time without having to wake a neighbor, it has me thinking about stashing a spare key somewhere outside the house. It's just so risky -- every time I leave the house for a run, there's a chance I won't be able to get back in.